January 12, 2006

Guileless

Epiphany 2B (1 Sam 3.1-20; Jn 1.43-51)

Whenever I drive by one of those churches with a big marquee or standing sign out front and see somebody’s name on it in four-inch letters followed by the word “Minister,” I cringe a little (maybe with a touch of envy, as well!). There’s a lot of theology in such a billboard. There’s theology about leadership, theology about vocation, theology about servanthood, not to mention expectations about who does what in that place the sign is telling about, maybe even who’s in charge. Or who’s not in charge.

“Minister.” It’s a common mistake we make all the time. To call the leader of a congregation its minister as if he or she is not only the only one and there are no others, but is also to relegate that great vocation to one person whom for all intents and purposes contains, represents, and includes the ministry in that place.

Now, I’m pretty sure that’s not what is meant by such a sign. The folk there in that church might be quite surprised to discover that anybody would interpret it that way. Yet, there it is for all to see. And there it is maybe even for that congregation to explain and in the explanation to discover all the richness in why they are there at all on that corner with those big buildings and all that choice, tax-free real estate.

The story of Samuel and Eli we read this morning is about ministry. It’s one of the more charming bits of Old Testament lore (1 Sam 3.1-20). Eli’s practically blind, staying pretty much to himself, leaving Samuel to keep watch in the temple over by the ark of God, maybe the same one Indiana Jones went looking for a few centuries later. It’s a story about ministry, about Samuel’s wondering whose calling him and then finding that God is calling him to be a priest and a prophet and subsequently one day to take Eli’s place in the succession and have the dubious honor of naming Israel’s first king.

And then over in today’s gospel, there’s that story about Jesus and Nathaniel which is also a story about ministry (Jn 1.43-51). Philip brings Nathaniel to meet Jesus and tells him along the way that Jesus is the real thing, the Messiah they’ve been waiting for all these centuries. Then he adds, almost as if to apologize, that Jesus is from Nazareth, of all places. Hearing this, Nathaniel blurts out the question we’ve all used at one time or another about somebody we think of not much worth. “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?”

Well, yes and no. We get the answer to that later as the Jesus narrative unfolds. But for now, it’s something of an exchange between the two. Jesus overhears Nathaniel, of course, just like he seems to overhear everything whether we like it or not. And Jesus says, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” Nathaniel finally comes to his senses, realizes in whose presence he stands, and the story moves on. His name doesn’t appear in any of the lists of the twelve apostles. Some say he was also called Bartholomew, and as you know, that name does show up. At any rate, he probably never forgot his gaffe about Nazareth and may never have known what a memorable phrase he left for our continued use.

We’d like to think that ministry hasn’t got a lot to do with where one comes from, though there seem to be exceptions now and then. But it is useful in its practice to have little or no guile, no deceit, though from the looks of things, some would probably argue that point.

“Who are the ministers of the Church?” our Catechism asks, then answers just as forthrightly: “The ministers of the Church are lay persons, bishops, priests, and deacons.” Then as the query goes on asking what is the ministry of each of these, the answers all begin with the same definition before moving into particulars: “The ministry of (fill in the whomever) is to represent Christ and his Church.” (BCP p 855)

We’d do well in the church to set aside for a time the notion that deacons, priests, and bishops are “holy orders,” somehow to be taken as more blessed and sanctified than the laity. And we’d do well to remember that no order nor ordination vow is holier than that by which we are commissioned and will to embrace and follow in our Baptismal Covenant. All Christians share that holiest of orders, and any subsequent “refining” of it is quite another matter.

As Nathaniel came toward Jesus in all earnestness, maybe with his yarmulke on crooked and his dog-eared Torah under his arm, Jesus said, “Behold, an Israelite indeed, in whom is no guile.” One could look far afield to find any better qualifications to meet the Prayer Book Catechism’s notions about ministry — “to represent Christ and his Church.” — than a commitment to one’s Bible and tradition and a life without deceit and, as Nathaniel reminds us, realizing that not every vision is what it seems.

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