Vocation Nitty Gritty

Last week’s old testament reading was from Jeremiah 1, which was Jeremiah’s call.  This week we have Isaiah 6, which is Isaiah’s call. That is paired up with the gospel reading which is Luke’s telling of the call of Peter, which is slightly different than the Matthew and Mark versions.  Not different in any “that one has to be false’ way, Luke is just more expansive of what lead up to the call itself.  Matthew and Mark simple have, “Peter, follow me…and he dropped his nets.”  Which always makes you wonder at the immediacy. Luke tells you what happened before that.

I’m usually one who is arguing for leaving room for the mystical.  As Shakespeare wrote, “There are more things on earth than are dreamt of in your philosophy.” But if there is one place where I tend to think we don’t ground things enough it is when we are talking about calls.  The fancier and more expansive word is vocation.  And unlike the Roman Catholic tradition that reserves that word for specifically religious vocations, the Lutheran understanding of vocation covers both the kingdom of the law and of the gospel.

We all have vocations.  We probably have multiple overlapping vocations. In Luther’s Small Catechism he introduces this idea in a section that gets skipped in many of our catechism classes.  (Why? I don’t know.) That section is called the Table of Duties. The vocations that Luther works through in outline there are: Bishops, Pastors, Laity, Civil Magistrates, Citizens, Husbands, Wives, Parents, Children, Workers, Employers, Youth and Widows. He ends with “everyone” so that you can grasp the basic idea that the number of vocations is practically limitless. Everyone of us can apply the rule “love you neighbor as yourself” to our specific place in life.  And that is the Lutheran idea of vocation at its simplest.

As we move through life there are many roles in which we have the duty or responsibility of love. Vocation is primarily how God tends for his creation.  Adam and Eve were created to care for the Garden.  God could do lots of things directly.  He could speak and it would be done.  He could snap his fingers and things would happen.  But in his wisdom God typically does things like say to someone “follow me” or “take care of this one.” When you have a child that is God saying “take care of this one.” When you have a job that is God saying “take care of those who need this good or service.” These same vocations are how God takes care of us. None of us are completely self-reliant, as much as that might be the American ideal.  We are bound to each other by our vocations which should be and are bonds of love. 

Some of the complexity is that our vocations sometimes contradict each other. The most simple form of that contradiction is when we just don’t have the time/money/energy to meet everything those bonds of love demand from us. Take it to God in prayer. Part of his promise is providence.  That we shall have what we need for this body and life. If we don’t have it, there is someone who does.

The tougher complexities come from our sinful nature and a fallen world. Many of our vocations have turned inward on themselves.  Instead of being opportunities to love those given to us, those vocations become honors or means of extracting from others. We desire the trappings of the call, but not the duties. We might know we have a call but run from it.  We might also just neglect it growing weary in love. Because love is costly.

When Jesus called Peter to be a fisher of men, it was a call to the cross.  In Peter’s case a literal cross.  All vocations in this world, being calls to love, are calls to the cross. But it is through these that the love of God is made manifest in this world. It is through your vocations that God’s love is made known to call creation.

Courage and Duty

On the American Calendar June 6th was D-Day and there were plenty of appropriate recognitions of the 80th anniversary of that day.  I read that the last of the Medal of Honor winners passed.  Not many years and it will be that last of the veterans of that war. But on the Church calendar June 5th was a celebration of another guy who must have had the same courage as those who stormed the beaches. Years later, after the eyewitness are gone, it becomes harder to believe in such acts of bravery.  The cynics voice shows up and starts wondering which parts are real and which parts are hagiographic myth. And the story of Boniface of Mainz, Missionary to the Germans fits that.  It also reminds us just how strange the path of the Gospel to the ends of the earth is.

Boniface was born in England, well, not really England, because England didn’t exist yet.  He was born in Wessex around 675 AD.  And in an often repeating story the young man, contrary to his Father’s wishes, became a monk.  When he was roughly 35, about the same age that Luther nails the 95 Theses – old enough to know better, but still too young to care – Boniface sets out with another monk named Willibrord to Frisia, which is far Northern German near the border with the Netherlands. The mission to Frisia was not a success and they returned home. Boniface then goes to Rome, and while in Rome the Pope creates a new diocese, Germania, and appoints Boniface the bishop. 

Now these were the days where Bishops might never even see their own diocese.  But Boniface does the unthinkable, He strikes out to his diocese. Not Frisia, not yet, but to Hesse, which is Mainz and Frankfurt today.   And this is the place of the great Boniface story – felling the Donar Oak or Thor’s Oak, the sacred symbol and worship space of the local pagans. Boniface took a hatchet to the ancient oak.  He used its wood to build his first church.  The region heard the story, was amazed that Thor did nothing to the short monk, and apparently converted in mass. Boniface had a real diocese now; one that he served faithfully for over 30 years turning oak groves into churches, monasteries and schools.

But at the age of 79 Boniface remembered Frisia and set off on one last missionary trip.  He had baptized many and had left their instruction in various of his fellow’s hands as he went on about the region.  Boniface scheduled a larger meeting of all those baptized to be confirmed at a central location. But when he arrived, he encountered not his converts, but a bandit mob looking for the treasures of the great Archbishop. Some of his band wanted to fight, but Boniface refused quoting St. Paul, “be not overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” The great relic of Boniface – which can still be seen today in Mainz –  is a book that was his only defense marked with a sword. The mob found nothing but the word that Boniface had preached.

Pondering the story of Boniface, one repeatedly sees the bedrock of courage and the performance of duty.  But that courage and duty take what might be seen as polar opposite expressions.  Early, the aggressive chopping down of Thor’s Oak.  The removal of the symbol of the current idols.  Late, the acceptance of the only defense being the Word of God and the acceptance of martyrdom.  Courage and duty are not wrote things.  When the appointed time comes, the actions they take might be different.  But the prayer might be that either by our actions or our submission, we might display the courage of the faith and so give witness to the hope that lives in us.  

Thanksgiving 2023

Thanksgiving is an interesting holiday. It is very close to the bone of the religious impulse, yet it is not on the church calendar, but declared by the civil magistrate. The US has a long history of those declarations. This sermon listens to parts of a couple of them and their wisdom in line with Moses to the Israelites (Deuteronomy 8:1-10) about to cross the Jordan and Jesus to the 10 lepers he had just healed (Luke 17:11-19).

Render to Caesar

Biblical Text: Matthew 22:15-22

“Render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and unto God what is God’s” is one of the most quoted saying of Jesus. But I’m convinced that 99.9% of the time it is quoted, we quote it terribly wrong. We use it to let ourselves off the hook on our duty. That is the essence of the trap they were laying for Jesus. Which side of this divide are you on Jesus? And whichever side he is “on” he’d lose the crowd from the other side. They marveled at his answer. Not because it was simply a rhetorical masterpiece of weaving between two poles. We hear politicians daily attempt that, maybe monthly do it successfully. But those are always like the apocryphal saying of Barack Obama – “my superpower is that people hear what they want to in my words.” When Jesus said this what they marveled at was how it convicted everyone. Jesus isn’t on any of their sides. He’s the King of the Reign of Heaven. This sermon attempts to restore some of the marvel of that saying.