“Hineni: Here I Am” (I Samuel 3:1-20)

This is what we know about Samuel: His mother was Hannah and his father was Elkanah who have no children due to the fact that Hannah had a difficult time conceiving.  In her barren state Hannah prays to God for a child outside the sanctuary in Shiloh.  Eli, the priest of Shiloh, hears the mumbling prayers of Hannah and thinks that she is drunk; but upon discovering that she is not drunk and only hoping that God will grant her a child . . . Eli blesses her after she promises the child to God.  Subsequently Hannah becomes pregnant and gives birth to a child that is named Samuel.  The name Samuel can have two meanings—“name of God” or “God has heard” . . . I will let you decide which meaning you prefer on your own. Upon weaning the child, Hannah takes Samuel to the priest Eli to raise. Samuel would be a transition point in the story between two eras . . . between the time of the judges and the prophets.  In rabbinical literature he is the last of the Hebrew judges and the first of the major prophets.  And, we know that God spoke directly to him.

Our story this morning begins in Samuel’s youth.  The writer tells us that it was a time in the history of the people in which God rarely spoke to them . . . a time when “there were not many visions.”  It is night and Samuel is asleep in the temple when he is woke up by a voice calling his name.  Thinking that it is Eli, now old and going blind, he runs to the priest and declares, “Here I am.”  But the priest tells the boy that he did not call him and tells him to go back to bed.  A second time, the voice calls out Samuel’s name . . . a second time he runs to the old priest only to be sent back to bed.

The third time that this happens, Eli begins to suspect that something is going on . . . that maybe, just maybe, the voice calling Samuel’s name is none other than God’s voice.  Eli directs Samuel to return to bed and that if he hears the voice again he is to tell the voice: “Speak, for your servant is listening.”  And, sure enough, the voice calls his name a fourth time and the boy does as he is instructed. 

And, God does speak to Samuel . . . brings judgment against Eli and his family for the sins that they had committed against God and the people.  Not the sort of thing that one wants to hear.  The words of God troubled Samuel and left him sleepless the rest of the night.  He was scared to tell Eli what God had told him . . . scared to share the vision.  Come morning, though, Eli wanted to know what God had told Samuel.

Eli called for the boy.  Samuel responded: “Here I am.”  Samuel then proceeded to tell the old priest everything . . . everything!  In the end, Eli could only respond: “He is the Lord; let him do what is good in his eyes.”  The shift in the story had begun.

“Hineni” is the Hebrew word that translates to “Here I am.”  In the story of Abraham preparing to sacrifice his son, Isaac, we hear it uttered.  In the story of Moses at the burning bush, Moses responds with the phrase.  And, in our reading this morning, Samuel responds: “Hineni . . . here I am.”

Hineni’s literal meaning is an unequivocal acceptance of what is asked.  The phrase in not meant to be an acknowledgement of one’s presence to another, but something deeper and more profound . . . more spiritual . . . it is an acceptance . . . a vulnerability to let go of everything one knows and to allow another to guide your actions.  In the examples I shared, it was to let go and allow God to lead the way.  Not an easy task.

Not an easy task for a boy to bring judgment against the man who raised him . . . against a priest.  Yet, Samuel does what he is told.  It was not an easy task for Abraham to do as God told him . . . to sacrifice his son, but Abraham goes the distance.  It was not easy for Moses to drop everything, leave behind security, and follow God’s directions. 

”Hineni” is more than acknowledging one’s presence in the presence of another . . . it is a vulnerability, a willingness, to do what is asked.

It is not easy, yet that is what God does.

The gospel reading for this morning, John 1:43 through 51, tells about Jesus’ invitation to the Philip and Nathanael to follow him.  Philip apparently had no qualms about following Jesus, but Nathanael was a little more leery.  To Philip’s statement of the Messiah being found in Jesus, Nathanael remarks, “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”  Pretty typical of the half-heartedness that began the relationship between the disciples and Jesus . . . they wanted to believe, but they were going to throw in the whole shebang just in case it didn’t work out.  Yes, they announced their presence, but they did not fully embrace and accept.  It is not easy to let go and let God have control.

It is not easy being fully present to God’s will.  Yet, it seems that those who are and are fully engaging to that presence, there comes great blessing.  Please note that I do not say that life is going to be easy, but that there will be great blessing.  So it was for Abraham as God spared the life of Isaac.  So it was for Moses as he led God’s people out of captivity into a land of their own.  So it was for Samuel.  And, it would be for those who would choose to follow Jesus.

For it to happen we have to make ourselves vulnerable.  We have to lay it on the line . . . risk it all . . . and have the trust and faith that it will all work out in the end.  And, it will.  That is what Jesus told Nathanael: “You will see greater things than these.”

Remember those Verizon commercials in which some guy was wandering around the United States, holding up his cell phone, and yelling, “Can you hear me now?”  Samuel played his own sort of that game with God when he kept mistaking God’s voice for Eli’s.  He was hearing it, but he hadn’t yet fully embraced it.  How often do we miss the opportunity to proclaim “Hineni” when we hear the voice of God in our own lives?  What?  You say that you don’t hear the voice of God in your lives?  That is impossible . . . God speaks to us all the time.  The problem is that we don’t want to move into the realm of “Hineni”.

God speaks to us globally.  In the reign of terror sweeping across the world . . . God speaks to us.  In growing cold war with North Korea . . . God speaks to us.  In the murder and violence in Africa . . . God speaks to us.  In the poverty and famine of third world nations . . . God speaks to us.  Can you hear the voice of God?

Regionally, God speaks to us.  In the booming sex trade and trafficking market of the Balkens area . . . God is speaking.  In the growing population of the homeless that are wandering the streets of Billings . . . God is speaking.  Looking at the things that Montana ranks in the top ten in the nation . . . suicide, DUIs, and poor education rates—to name a few . . . God is speaking.  Can you hear the voice of God?

Even within our community, God is speaking.  If I asked you to take five minutes and write down on a piece of paper all the things that our community needs to address to make it a better and more accepting community for a diverse population to call home . . . how many things would you write down?  How many problems would you come up with that need to be fixed?  God is speaking . . . can you hear the voice of God?

And, lastly, God speaks to us individually . . . personally.  Try the same exercise that I asked you to consider for the community . . . in your own life, how many things can you come up with?  God speaks to us.

Still think that God does not speak to us? 

God speaks to us all the time . . . but, it is not so much a matter of whether or not we want to listen, it is a matter of vulnerability . . . a willingness to trust God with our lives . . . a sense of courage to step up and proclaim, “Hineni—I am here!”

We are here today because there were those who came before us willing to be vulnerable in the presence of God . . . willing to step up and proclaim, “Hineni!”  We live in a time, much like Samuel, in which people do not believe that God is speaking . . . but, the truth is, God is speaking.  God is calling us into a new relationship . . . a new direction . . . calling us towards the Kingdom.  Constantly calling . . . and, the time is now ours to respond.  God wants more than our heads, God wants our hearts.  “Hineni” is a response of the heart.

God is speaking . . . how shall we respond? 

“Hineni” is also a simple prayer . . . I am here.  May it be so.  Amen.    

“Drawing With Light” (Genesis 1:1-5)

“Through him all things were made;

without him nothing was made that has been made. 

In him was life, and that life was the light of men. 

The light shines in the darkness,

but the darkness has not understood it.”

(John 1:3-5, NIV)

“This is the verdict: Light has come into the world,

but men loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil.  Everyone who does evil hates the light,

and will not come into the light for fear that his deeds will be exposed.  But whoever lives by the truth comes into the light,

so that it may be seen plainly that what he has done

has been done through God.”

(John 319-21, NIV)

“And God said, ‘Let there be light,’ and there was light.  God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from darkness.”

(Genesis 1:3-4, NIV)

I enjoy photography.  In the January 3^rd edition of the Billings Gazette there was an article about Paul Whiting who happens to be a photographer from Billings.  The article served two purposes . . . one, to announce that he was the feature speaker at this year’s “Art in Sacred Space” seminar at Saint Andrew Presbyterian Church . . . and the other, to let people know that he considers light to be a key element in his art.  The seminar is about combining art and faith, and for Paul Whiting the two cannot be separated . . . especially when it comes to light.

Paul Whiting is a Quaker.  According to him, Quakers talk a lot about light . . . as do many other religions.  Light is critical in his “art” . . . which happens to be photography.  He explains that when it comes to his photography . . . to his “art” . . . that the subject doesn’t really matter that much, but that “it’s the light and shadow that makes it work.”  He goes on to say that the root word of photo is “light,” and graph is “to draw,” and the two together—photograph—make pictures of light.  In the same way, photography and spirituality go together.

I really appreciated the article and what Paul Whiting had to say because I have believed this for a long, long time when it comes to photography . . . it is all about the light . . . learning how to capture the light . . . how to use the light to reveal the “message” of the picture.  I love how photography is “light drawing” or “drawing with light”.  I love that because it conveys such a powerful image and message . . . not only for those who are photographers and artists, but also for those who are among the followers of Jesus—the faithful.

Light is a pretty powerful metaphor in religion.  It is through light that people can see . . . it is through light that people can maneuver through life and find the way  . . .  it is through light that the darkness is driven away . . . it is through light that the Holy is exposed.  In the Gospel of John we have heard the writer equate Jesus as being “the light” . . . the light that pierces the darkness of the world and reveals the Holy into the lives of all who choose to see.  We refer to Jesus as being “the light of the world”.  In Genesis we hear how the first thing that God created was the “light” and that the light was separated from the darkness . . . and, that the light was good.

In the metaphor of light we equate goodness and holiness . . . in the darkness we equate that which is scary and unknown . . . and, even bad.  In religious paintings of Jesus and all the others of the early Christian faith there is always a field of light . . . a glow . . . that surrounds them . . . an aura that we equate with holiness.  In the writings of the mystics we read about how the sojourner must endure the darkness of the night to get to the light of the day . . . that the journey is always towards the light.  And, we have heard and read countless stories of those who have had near-death experiences state that they were drawn towards the light. 

Light is a powerful and wonderful metaphor for the Holy . . . and, even God declares light to be good.  As God created with light, we—the followers of Jesus—are called into this drawing with light.  That was the challenge we were given in the charge and benediction of our Christmas Eve worship service . . . to go out into the world and share the “light” wherever we might be.  We symbolized that challenge as a candle was lit from the Christ Candle and then passed through the sanctuary . . . one by one . . . as we sang Silent Night, Holy Night.  As each candle was lit a little more light broke through the darkness of the sanctuary . . . broke through the darkness of the world.  We were beginning the process of “drawing with light”.

I stand in awe that the Christmas story . . . the nativity story . . . come smack dab in the darkest time of the year—winter.  The story of light piercing the darkness of the world . . . literally and figuratively.  Singer/songwriter Leonard Cohen  writes: “There is a crack in everything.  That’s how the light gets in.”  I think that it is so cool that the light comes to us in the time of darkness and calls us out.  Calls us out to bask in it warmth . . . to dance in its brilliance . . . and to discover the Holy.  And, I stand in awe of the challenge to draw with the light.

Drawing with light is not easy.  I can attest to that as I have been taking photographs since I was in my early teens and I am still working at learning how to do it well.  The pictures I took in my earlier years are a far cry from the ones I take today . . . but, there is still a long ways to go before I become really good with this drawing with light.  It takes a lot of practice . . . a lot of work.  I have always told anyone who listens that it is me taking a lot . . . and, I mean, a lot . . . of pictures to get one good picture.  For that I am thankful that photography entered the digital age.  Because it takes practice and constantly taking pictures, I continue to do so in the hope that someday I will master that gift of drawing in the light.

So it is with the light of faith.  We are called to pass the “light” on into the darkness of the world around.  Yet, when we look around it seems as all we see is darkness . . . and, we wonder, how in the world will one little candle, one little light, ever pierce the darkness and make a difference?  It seems so hopeless.

Thus it is that I remind you of that Christmas Eve service.  One candle was lit . . . then another . . . and another.  Slowly, but surely with each candle being lit, the darkness was driven back and the light shined for all to see.  In order for this to happen a candle had to be lit—one candle, and it had to be shared . . . one at a time.  So it is with the sharing of the light of faith . . . it begins with a willingness to share the light with another person . . . just one person.

Author Kate DiCamillo, in her book The Tale of Despereaux, wrote this in an exchange between two of the characters in her book: “Stories are light.  Light is precious in a world so dark.  Begin at the beginning.  Tell Gregory a story.  Make some light.”

To draw with light we must begin at the beginning . . . just as God did.  We begin where the story begins and we share that story with others . . . one on one.  We tell the story as we know it . . . as we have experienced . . . and, we allow the light to shine.  That is all that we can do . . . we shine our light into the lives of others . . . and, it is up to them whether or not they will step into the light, light a candle, and brighten not only their world, but the world around them.  We draw with the light . . . we tell the story.

God began with the light and so should we.

Drawing with light . . . remember the camp song, Pass It On, where it begins: “It only takes a spark to get a fire going, and soon all those around can warm up in its glowing; that’s how it is with God’s love, once you’ve experienced it: you spread God’s love to everyone, you want to pass it on.”

Our Advent hymn was One Candle is Lit.  We have received the “light” . . . as God as drawn with the light in our lives, let us do likewise in the lives around us.  Anne Frank said: “Look at how a single candle can both defy and define the darkness.”  And, from another quote attributed to many others: “A thousand candles can be lighted from the flame of one candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.  Happiness never decreases by being shared.”

We have received the gift of “light” . . . and, it is good.   What are we waiting for . . . let us go forth and draw with the light.  Amen.

“To Walk Among the People” (John 1:1-18)

If God had a name what would it be?

And would you call it to His face?

If you were faced with Him in all His glory

What would you ask if you had just one question?

What if God was one of us?

Just a slob like one of us

Just a stranger on the bus

Trying to make Its way home

If God had a face

What would it look like?

And would you want  see

If seeing meant that you would have to believe

In things like Heaven and Jesus and the Saints

And all the Prophets

(What if God Were One of Us by Eric Bazilian)

In 1995 Joan Osborne had her biggest hit as a singer . . . What If God Were One of Us . . . in which she asks the listeners to consider the musical question of what they would do if they encountered God and it turned out that God was just like them.  At first that sounds like a ridiculous proposition, but consider the words of our reading this morning: “He was in the world, and though the world was made through him, the world did not recognize him.  He came to that which was his own, but his own did not receive him . . . The Word became flesh and lived for a while among us.”

According to the Gospel of John, God was one of us.  For a short time, God came down and walked among the people as “the Word became flesh and lived for a while among us.”  That is what the writer of John’s gospel is telling us . . . that is what the four gospels in their totality affirm and confirm . . . God was one of us.  God was one of us in the form and life of Jesus . . . God walked among the people. 

So, as Ms. Osborne asks, if God were one of us what would we do?

That is a big question for Sunday morning . . . actually a big question for any day of the week.  Yet, the author of John’s gospel tells us that we probably wouldn’t do a whole lot as we are no different than our forbearers of the faith . . . we wouldn’t recognize God. 

The Christmas story is about “God coming among us” . . . God becoming one of us and showing us “the way” . . . the way back to the re-establishing that original relationship between us and God . . . of re-establishing the Kingdom.  God became one of us, walked among us, and showed us a better way through loving God and one another.  God was among us . . . and, I would argue, is still among us.  Because of that I cannot buy into the notion that those before us and us today do not recognize the presence of God among us.  I think that we do.  I think that our problem is that we do not accept or acknowledge that presence in our world or our lives.

Over in the Gospel of Matthew, Jesus tells the story of the “sheep and goats”.  You know the story . . . it is the end times . . . the people have been divided into groups of sheep and goats . . . the sheep are awarded entrance into the gates of heaven, while the goats are banished to eternal punishment . . . all based on whether or not they helped Jesus during their lifetimes.  Of course the question that the people on both sides ask is, “When did we see you?”

Remember what Jesus told them?  “Truly I tell you, whatever you did (or did not) do for one of the least of these, you did (or did not) for me.”  Sounds like God is among us . . . it is a matter of whether or not we are willing to accept or acknowledge that presence among us.  As the writer of John’s gospel states: “We have seen his glory, the glory of the one and only Son, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.”

God walks among the people as one of us . . . that is what the writer is telling us.  The Christmas story brings to us the presence of God among us and shows us the way through Jesus . . . the way to get back home.  God is one of us, “Just a stranger on the bus, trying to make Its way home.”  And, for it to work we have to believe in the story . . . acknowledge the gift of presence . . . and, accept it.  We need to embrace it.  If we can embrace the gift of presence, we will see the presence of God around us in the world in which we live.

Now, I do not know about you, but I find great comfort in knowing that God is among us as one of us . . . that God is like us—or at least experiences life like us as a human being.  This is comforting because God understands through Jesus how tough and difficult life can be . . . understands the struggles and hardships . . . understands the weaknesses . . . understands where we are coming from.  God can identify with us and know us . . . all because God came to dwell among us through Jesus.  Just knowing that God understands where I am coming from makes it easier to embrace this gift of life.  I think that all of us would rather be in a relationship with someone who understand us than with someone who has no idea where we are coming from . . . God knows us because God is one of us . . . one of us in Jesus.

Now, back to that original question: If God were one of us what would we do?  What would you do?

Well, I hope that we would do what Jesus did . . . that we would live our lives in such a way that it reflected a relationship with God that is intimate and wholly or holy encompassing all that we are created to be . . . that we would live our lives in such a way that it reflected a relationship of diversity that embraces our fellow human beings in such a way that it emanates the love and grace we receive from our relationship with God.  I would hope that we embody the love and grace and witness of Jesus.

Yet, at the same time, that is a pretty tough question no matter when it is asked.  We can answer it with our minds, but it is with our hearts that we must really answer the question.  Our hearts will reveal the truth to us and the world around us. 

Thus the writer of John’s gospel throws it right into our faces . . . God is among us . . . what you going to do?  It is a matter of the heart . . .

The chorus of the song is one we can easily echo with our minds:

Yeah, yeah God is great

Yeah, yeah God is good

Yeah, yeah, yeah yeah

In our minds we all agree . . . God is great, God is good . . . but is that truly reflected in our hearts and lives?  As the song concludes at the very end:

Back up in Heaven all alone

Just trying to make His way home

Nobody callin’ on the phone

‘Cept for the Pope maybe in Rome

God is waiting.  Amen.