Come and See
by Frank R. Fisher, Obl OSB

This
is an important day
in the life
of this congregation.
It's the type of day
people of God describe as
the confirmation
of a moment of call.

With a description like that
one would think
this type of day
would've come 
from some kind 
of mountain top experience;
an experience
like the one
 we heard about
in our first scripture reading.
But in truth
many,
if not most
moments of call
arise from something
 much more common place.
Sometimes
a call from God
and its confirmation
come from 
some very unlikely 
places.

Leonard I. Sweet, 
President of United Theological Seminary,
gives a vivid description 
of the moment
when he felt God 
confirmed his call
to his first congregation.

That moment
came 
during his first 
stewardship campaign.

His description says,
"I had been appointed by  the bishop
 to the missionary church
 in a small-college community
 in New York's Genessee Valley.
  The first year 
had been a nervous one
 both for me,
 a young, 
not dry-behind-the-ears pastor
and for the congregation,
 which was comprised of 
an odd and unconsummated coupling
 of rural folk
 and "academic types." 
 But there was significant enough progress
 to warrant the belief
 we could double the budget
 after my first year there. 
If  only we had a slogan
 ... some catchy motto or jingle
 around which to design 
our development campaign.

Or so I thought. 
 The weekend before 
the "Stewardship Sunday" kickoff,
 I sought 
some solitary confinement
 in Toronto, Canada.  
There I hit first on a slogan
 and then an idea:
  Why not have T-shirts 
made up for 
those "every-member canvassers"
 who could then 
call on parishioners
 emblazoned 
with my newly brain stormed 
stewardship theme?
  It seemed 
the perfect plan.

During the "Community Concerns" time
 of the morning worship 
the next Sunday,
 the chair of the campaign,
 Doug Klapper,
 did an outstanding job 
of making the committee's case
 for our controversial 
financial leap forward.
  As soon as he finished,
 I bolted to the front,
 prevented him 
from returning to his seat,
 and presented him 
with a "surprise gift"
 that I confidently announced
 would give our 
campaign focus and force.

The color of Doug's face
 when he unwrapped 
his "surprise gift" 
should have alerted me 
to what was to come.
 His embarrassed refusal
 ("You do it,"
 he giggled)
 to hold up the T-shirt
 for the congregation to see 
was another
 missed warning signal.
  But it was not until 
the moment
 that I held up that T-shirt
 and announced
 that 
there were enough 
of these "surprise gifts"
 for every one 
of our canvassers 
to wear
 that I realized
 exactly what 
I had done.

  Our stewardship slogan 
would be,
 I proudly read:
I Upped MY Pledge
Up YOURS

I had lost it.
  At first,
 there was a trickle of giggles,
 then a torrent of  laughter.
  I tried to preach.
  But convulsions of laughter
 drowned out my sermon 
at unpredictable moments,
 ebbing and flowing 
like a moonshine tide.
  But that moment
 of my greatest embarrassment 
and mistake,
 a moment  from which 
that worship service 
never fully recovered,
 was the moment
 of my ministry's recovery 
in that community.
  For suddenly 
this upstart preacher 
and hotshot Ph.D. 
became human,
 and could do something 
so outrageously stupid 
and foolish
 that it redeemed 
all his jarring strangeness.
  From that Sunday on,
 I became their pastor
 and was bonded to them 
for life.  
And for the next seven years,
 as I walked the streets 
of the village,
 I would find myself greeted 
with the query,
 "Are you 
the 'up-yours'  preacher?"

In our Presbyterian system,
calls come 
in some just as unlikely ways.
My own call
to serve this congregation
came in the form of a call
from Bill Fugate.
The message asked me
to come down to Fairbury
and talk to the search commitee
about serving as your interim.
I wish I could tell you
bells rang
and angels sang in the background

as I listened to Bill's message
and discussed it 
with my wife..
But what actually happened
was that my Joan and 
I looked at each other
and asked,
almost simultaneously,
if I really should
even think about serving
so far away from home.
Joan also brought up the fact 
that the salary range
being discussed 
was about one half of the offer
from a congregation
that was very close to home.

On the way down here
for my interview
I kept considering those factors.
And I came very close
to calling Bill on my cell phone
and telling him
I'd decided 
to cancel the interview.

But when I arrived here,
and talked with the members
of the search committee,
I immediately felt
a sense of things being right.
And when I called Joan,
the next morning,
from the office at my previous call,
she listened to me
and said,
"you know
you haven't talked this way
about any 
of the other congregations
who've interviewed you."
Despite the inauspicious beginning,
of almost canceling an interview,
Joan and I soon agreed
this
was truly the place
where God was calling me.

Today,
we celebrate the calls 
of six members of this congregation
to ordained office.
It's very likely
they all feel their call
 to the office of Elder or Deacon
also came about 
in an inauspicious way.
That's because
few of us believe
visits with the nominating committee
include a divine visitation.
But in the Presbyterian theology of call
that's exactly what happened.
For as Presbyterians
we believe
the Holy Spirit
works through our process.
In other words,
we believe
the women and men
who will be 
ordained and installed today
are directly called by God
to lead this congregation
in this time and place.

That being the case,
I hope the rest of you 
won't mind
if I take some time
to talk
directly to these,
your new officers.

You may think
you're simply beginning 
a new job today.
You are
 beginning a new job.
But there's nothing at all
simple about it.
For you're assuming 
the ordained office
of Elder or Deacon.
In doing so
you're taking on a position
 every bit as vital and important
as the one 
occupied by your pastor.
In fact,
its more important.
Pastors come
and pastors go.
Elders and Deacons remain.
You are the ones
on whom 
Christ's mission depends
in this time and place.
And you are the ones
who will decide
the future of this congregation.

If you care deeply
about this congregation
and its people,
and you show 
care and love in your work,
your care 
will catch on 
and grow
among us.
If you decide the reverse,
or do not act on your care,
the reverse effect
will also come true.

I could offer you
many words of wisdom
to guide you
during your upcoming term.
But since we'd all 
like to be out of here
by midnight,
instead,
I'm going to ask you
to take today's scriptures
as your guide.
Remember Paul's words
to the people of Corinth.
You do not 
belong to yourselves.
As soon as you answer "I do"
to the ordination vow
"do you turn to Jesus Christ 
and accept Jesus 
as your Lord and Savior . . ."
you are no longer
a volunteer.
Instead
you belong to Christ.

At times when things
 seem to be the darkest,
remember the call of Samuel.
Listen for the voice of God
calling out of the dark.
And when the call comes,
answer it!

Finally,
remember Phillip calling Nathanael
to follow Jesus.
For you are the ones
called now
to tell everyone you meet
the good news of Christ Jesus.
When you're asked
if anything good
can come out of 
a small congregation
tell them
"come and see."


And,
before I manage
 to frighten you away
from the task 
set before you,
never forget one other thing.
You aren't in this 
alone.
The Holy Spirit
called you
to this place 
and this time.
The Holy Spirit
will also,
guide you on your way.

Blessings on that way
my friends.
And to God alone be glory.

Amen.

(Comments to Frank at f.fisher.obl.osb@comcast.net.)
Interim Pastor of First Presbyterian Chuch of Fairbury, IL

Brother Oscar
Oblate of St. Benedict's Abbey - 
Bartonville, IL