Theological Truth: To follow Jesus means to follow the way, the truth, and the life of Love.
You may not know this, but you’re looking at the Defensive MVP of the Jefferson Parish Youth Football League Turkey Bowl. That’s right … the pinnacle of my football career. And yet to this day, at least in my mind, the award is tainted by suspicion; potentially corrupted by treachery! Here’s what happened.
Our little playground team was invited to play in the Turkey Bowl, so we traveled (about ten minutes by car) to another bigger and nicer field — with a
little press box and PA system. After the first defensive play, I heard a voice say, “Tackle on the play by Heine.” What!? Did I even make the tackle? It seemed like a big pile of little bodies to me. Maybe I did … or maybe I was just the last one to stand up. I decided to test my theory. The next play, I stood up last and once again: “Tackle on the play by Heine.” From that point on, Heine made a lot of tackles, or at least heard his name called repeatedly, eventually securing the MVP trophy for the Turkey Bowl.
We like to hear our name called. It feels good to be seen and known. In a
world where we can feel either alone or insignificant, when someone speaks our name, recognizes our existence, and validates our worth, we can’t help but
stand up proudly … even last, if necessary : )
Our readings today remind us that God knows our names. Samuel, Samuel.
Philip. Andrew. Peter. Nathanael. God the Father and God the Son speak each
of their names. He speaks their names because he knows them. The psalmist
proclaims this Divine truth: “Lord, you have searched me out and known me;
you know my sitting down and my rising up; you discern my thoughts from
afar. You trace my journeys and my resting-places and are acquainted with all
my ways. Indeed, there is not a word on my lips, but you, O Lord, know it
altogether.” (Ps. 139:1-3).
But there’s a difference between knowledge of our name and knowing us. If I
saw Taylor Swift, I would know her name, but I obviously don’t know her.
God’s knowledge is different. God not only knows our names, but God is
intimately connected to us. “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so
high that I cannot attain to it.” For despite discerning my thoughts from afar,
despite being acquainted with all my ways, even though God knows every word
on my lips (and not just the ones I say in church), God continues to love me,
desire connection with me, and call me by name.
Even more amazing, this deep knowing and endless calling holds true for each
and every one of God’s people. We are all known, named, and called into
relationship and life with God. Samuel. Philip. Andrew. Peter. Nathanael. You.
Me. Us. Them.
Oh yeah. Them too. This is where the message of God’s indiscriminate,
unconditional love becomes dangerous as well as delightful. Because while
God’s knowing, naming, and calling us is good news, it is also infuriating when
God also loves those we deem unlovable. No matter how badly we try to
convince ourselves, God doesn’t hate the same people we hate. Reminding
ourselves and others of this message of God’s love — as we are called to do — is
rarely welcomed. Walking this way of Love is risky. Consider Martin Luther
King, Jr.
Author Jack Hitt tells the story of his four-year-old daughter’s growing
awareness of this good yet risky news. He says that after hearing about Jesus at
Christmas, she wanted to know more about him, so they bought a children’s
Bible and they read about his life and teachings. She couldn’t get enough of
Jesus. She was particularly captivated by his teaching to do unto others as you
would have them to do to you.
Shortly thereafter, they drove by a church with a crucifix outside and she says,
“Who is that!?” Jack Hitt realizes he hasn’t told her the full story, so he
carefully explains that Jesus’ message of God’s love for all people was so
radical and unnerving that the prevailing authorities of his day couldn’t handle
it, so they killed him. His message was so disturbing that he had to die
He goes on to say that a couple of weeks later, her preschool was out for MLK
day, so he took off work. They played in the morning and then went out for
lunch. There was a newspaper at their table with a drawing by a local student
of Martin Luther King, and his daughter asked, “Who’s that?” He said, “Well, as it turns out, that’s why you’re out of school today. We celebrate his
birthday.” She asked, “Why? What was he famous for?”
So he says, “Well, he was a preacher.” To which she excitedly interjects, “For
Jesus?!” And he says, “Yes … but there was another thing he was famous for.
… He had a particular message. He said you should treat people the same no
matter what they looked like.” She thought about that for a second and then
says, “That sounds a lot like what Jesus said.” And her dad realizes, “Yes, I
hadn’t thought of that, but it is a lot like ‘Do unto others as you would have
them do to you.” After a short silence, the girl then asked quietly, “Did they
kill him too?”
We are known. We are named. We are called. The good news of God’s love
is for us, but it’s by no means limited to us. The challenge is to accept it and
then share it — share it as freely and generously as we have received it. In a
time when the temptation to use God for our small and self-serving purposes is
great, can we allow God to use us for God’s larger and life-giving purposes.
Will we wield God like a weapon, or walk with Christ in the way of love?
The answer for Samuel, Philip, Andrew, Peter, and Nathanael, was to accept
the invitation to “come and see.” They didn’t get it at first. They didn’t always
get it right. And we certainly don’t either. And so we keep walking this way of
love. Don’t get too far ahead. Don’t give up and get left behind. Trust that the
One knows us is faithful. The One who named us is loving. The One who calls us is near. Come and see. We are all known. We are all named. We are all
called. And nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus, not
even death. This is the way of Love, the way of Life. For all of us. For all.
— Fr. AJ Heine, Rector, Trinity Episcopal Church of Staunton
Second Sunday after Epiphany, January 14, 2024 Readings: 1 Samuel 1:1-10; Ps. 139:1-5, 12-17; 1 Corinthians 6:12-20; John 1:43-51
