Call to a Prophetic Ministry

A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Peter De Franco
at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church, Clifton, New Jersey
on January 18, 2009, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Sunday

Today’s first reading presents us with a familiar story of the call of Samuel. You know the story how the boy Samuel was given to by his mother Hannah as a gift to God when Samuel was only weaned. Hannah left the child Samuel with the Priest Eli and his two sons. We might imagine that Samuel was enrolled in a sort of seminary run by Eli since Eli began to teach Samuel how to minister in the temple. Perhaps some of us might imagine Samuel as a cute little cherub of a boy, a sort of Jewish Altar boy who lived in the temple and perhaps he looked a lot like some of our own sweet altar servers.
But the two sons of Eli were priests who considered themselves above of others. When people would come to offer animal sacrifice to God, the sons of Eli would take the best cuts of meat, the parts which should have been sacrificed to God, they took them for themselves. Not only did they desecrate the sacrifices, they also took sexual advantage of the women who came to the temple. I wonder if Hannah knew of the moral character of these men if she would have brought little Samuel to another seminary.
The reading today begins with the description: The word of the LORD was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. (1 Samuel 3: 1) The word of the Lord was rare in those days. Considering the moral depravity of the family of Eli, I wonder if that was the cause of the silence of God. Was the word rare since there were no ears to hear the word? Were visions not widespread since there were no eyes to behold those visions?
Yet God is about to do something new with Samuel. God calls out to Samuel. Unlike all those around him, Samuel hears the word. Not only does Samuel hear the word, he responds to the word. Now Samuel is not entrusted with words of comfort for Eli and his sons. Samuel is given a word of confrontation. The bible says that Samuel was afraid to tell the vision to Eli. (1 Samuel 3: 15) Yet somehow the heart that heard the word found the courage to speak the word and from that time on Samuel took on his prophetic calling.
The bible says: “As Samuel grew up, the LORD was with him and let none of his words fall to the ground.” (1 Samuel 3: 19)
The Lord let none of his words fall to the ground. I think all of us understand that prophets are people who hear God’s word and communicate that word and all too often to a people not eager to hear the word.
This weekend, we celebrate the life of another prophet of God: the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. In Lesser Feasts and Fasts, a book of the Saints in our church, Dr. King finds his place with the other holy men and women of our country and Dr. King is called a Prophet and a Civil Rights Leader. Now Dr. King was a holy man; he did have his moments of weakness but Dr. King was indeed a holy man, a prophet who did not let one of God’s words fall to the ground. In retaliation for his prophetic ministry, Dr. King suffered the fate of so many a prophet, from Jeremiah to John the Baptizer to Jesus of Nazareth: they were not only a prophets, they were also martyrs. He did not let one of God’s words fall to the ground, but his own blood fell to the ground and watered the ground so that the prophetic words of racial equality might be watered with his blood and bear fruit in the a nation where today we stand vigil at one of the most historical events in our history: the inauguration of the first African American President.
I wonder what would have passed through the mind and heart of Dr. King if he would have attended that inauguration. I think of the tears streaming down the face of the Rev. Jesse Jackson on the night President Obama was elected, tears of joy that we all had entered the promised land, tears of joy that we were finally living into the reality of which Dr. King but dreamed. Dr. King is celebrated in our church as a prophet and civil rights leader.
For many of us, prophets are people usually relegated to the past, the ancient past when Samuel lived in ancient Shiloh Isaiah walked the streets of Jerusalem or perhaps the ancient past when John the Baptizer was dunking people in the River Jordan. Prophets are safe in the past. Safe because we cannot hear their voices, we cannot see their actions, we cannot be bothered by their message. Prophets possess an uncanny ability to get under our skin and irritate us by their message.
I think that Samuel had his moment when he realized the cost of his prophet ministry, the cost Samuel had to pay was his own fear of proclaiming the word. Samuel was not afraid to pay the cost.
All of us share in that calling to be prophets, all of us are asked to take on that socially difficult role, all of us are invited to speak, to proclaim, to summon others with the word that God gives to us. Jesus shares with us his prophetic ministry. All of us share in that uncomfortable role of prophets.
Many of you have shared stories of how you are teased or ridiculed for being an Episcopalian. I heard one of you tell how she was invited to spend some time in a Roman Catholic Community to try and get them up to speed on issues. We not only have women as deacons and priest and bishops but our presiding bishop is a woman. We not only let gays, lesbians and bisexuals openly worship in our churches but we are ordaining them as deacons, priests and now even a bishop.
We are prophets entrusted with a simple message: All Are Welcome. It is shorthand for saying three other words: God Loves Everyone. We are given the uncomfortable task of being prophets in our community which does not always want to hear our word of universal welcome, of God’s inclusive love.
What do you do with the prophetic word you have received? Do you let your fear silence your prophetic voice? Do you let the comfort of sitting with people you know keep you away from the difficult task of welcoming the person who is new in this community, in your neighborhood, in your work place?
I invite you to take up your prophetic calling, I encourage you to take up the ministry of Samuel and Dr. King, and speak those three words in your community. All Are Welcome. God Loves Everyone. Don’t let the word given to you fall to the ground.

The Baptism of Jesus and Our Baptismal Priesthood

A Sermon Preached by the Rev. Peter De Franco
at St. Peter’s Episcopal Church
January 11, 2009

On the beach at Asbury Park, while a gentle snow was preparing to cover the sands, a group of swimmers, called polar bears, braved the frigid water of the Atlantic Ocean, and the below freezing temperatures to take a dip in the water. Wearing only a bathing suit, these swimmers, some might call them brave, others called them crazy, they commented that the day was perfect for a swim since, in spite of the frigid temperatures, the wind was not blowing, so they considered it a good day. Now don’t imagine that just because we are celebrating the Baptism of Jesus that I shall invite us all to imitate those Polar Bears and go for a dip in the Passaic River. Yet today we celebrate a person going to a body of water, not for a swim or a bath, but to participate in a purification ritual.
Mark clearly writes that only Jesus sees the heavens tear open, only Jesus hears the voice from the heaven affirming that Jesus is God’s Beloved Son, only Jesus feels the Spirit, not hover over him, but penetrate the very heart of Jesus and change him into a spirit possessed person. He puts on his tunic and mantle. The river Jordan continues its slow move toward the Dead Sea, another person approaches John to be dunked under the water and Jesus moves into the world, forever transformed, forever transfigured, forever god’s Child.
In a hymn that celebrates this event, we sing of the moment when Jesus is manifest at Jordan’s stream, prophet, priest and king supreme. Like that ancient baptism in the River Jordan, we too have been baptized, we too have come into the heavenly realm of God where we too have been singled out as a prophet, priest and king or queen. This week, I would like us to reflect on our baptismal anointing as priests.
When we think of priests, we usually imagine those people who wear funny clothes on Sunday and plastic dog collars during the week. Yet we seldom consider ourselves as priests. All too often, images of priests in vestments and strange clothing bar our imaginations from claiming the priesthood that is ours, a priesthood which most members of the first century church took for granted. Our patron, St. Peter, describes this priesthood in these words: ‘You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s own people.”(1 Peter 2: 9) All too often our imaginations inhibit us from realizing our identity as priests of God. Yet that is what we are. Yet why are all of us called priests?
Primarily because of our consecration in baptism. Like Jesus at the River Jordan, the Spirit comes to us in Baptism, not with a lot of fanfare, not with a blast of trumpets, but with the silent, interior conviction that we are indeed God’s beloved children and, in our hearts, God’s Spirit dwells. Whenever a person is baptized, all of us in the congregation welcomes them with these words: “We receive you into the household of God. Confess the faith of Christ crucified, proclaim his resurrection, and share with us in his eternal priesthood.” (Book of Common Prayer)
We all share in the eternal priesthood of Christ Jesus. Priesthood involves more than just special clothing. In any culture that has them, priests usually are the ones who offer sacrifice. The Christian covenant no longer practices the priesthood of the Jews with the offering of animals, grain and wine. As the letter to the Hebrews makes clear, the ministry of Jesus as priest took place once for all when he offered to God the sacrifice of himself. That sacrifice was made once for all. We do not need to offer that sacrifice again and again. What we do as priests is to make the offering of ourselves in union with that offering of Jesus.
In our Rite I service, we pray these words that speak of our priestly offering: “And here we offer and present unto thee, O Lord, our selves, our souls and bodies, to be a reasonable, holy, and living sacrifice unto thee.” (Book of Common Prayer) In the prayer that we will say today, we ask that God “grant that all who share this bread and cup may become one body and one spirit, a living sacrifice in Christ, to the praise of your Name.” (BCP Eucharistic Prayer D) We ask God to make us a living sacrifice.
To this sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving, we bring our lives, we bring our hearts as gifts, and as priests, we offer our hearts, that sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving.
Some among us do function as priests in a different manner.
Some of us are given the gift of the ordained priesthood. That gift includes gift to forgive sins in God’s name, to sanctify the gifts of bread and wine, to bless water for baptism and oil for healing and people in their various times of need. This gift to the community of the ordained priesthood emerges from our common priesthood yet marks some in the community as exercising a different ministry. Even if that gift is different it grows from that same branch of our common baptismal priesthood.
We show that each of us functions in our unique ways by the way we say the prayer during the Holy Eucharist. We all say the Eucharistic prayer yet ordained priests say those parts which sanctify the gifts and offer them to God We all say those prayers which celebrate the great mystery of God’s gifts to us and we make the oblation of our selves, our souls and bodies to God.
Perhaps the understanding of your priesthood comes as a new reality for you. Perhaps your priesthood comes as a long lived reality to which you put a new name. Perhaps you exercise an ordained priesthood, perhaps you might realize that you might have the call to ordained ministry. However you find yourself as a priest, may you exercise your ministry with the grace of bringing your part of the world into the great priestly song of Christ that with Christ we may offer ourselves along with the great sacrifice of Christ Jesus as God establishes among us God’s reign.