“Now the boy Samuel was ministering to the Lord under Eli. The word of the Lord was rare in those days; visions were not widespread. At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his room; the lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. Then the Lord called, “Samuel! Samuel!” and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down. The Lord called again, “Samuel!” Samuel got up and went to Eli, and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, “Samuel! Samuel!” And Samuel said, “Speak, for your servant is listening. ¹¹ Then the Lord said to Samuel, “See, I am about to do something in Israel that will make both ears of anyone who hears of it tingle. ¹² On that day I will fulfill against Eli all that I have spoken concerning his house, from beginning to end. ” 1 Samuel 3:1-6, 10-12

“The infantry training battalion that I had been assigned to was on bivouac. There was a cold drizzle of rain, and everything was mud. The sun had gone down. I was still hungry when I finished and noticed that a man nearby had something left over that he was not going to eat. It was a turnip, and when I asked him if I could have it, he tossed it over to me. I missed the catch, the turnip fell to the ground, but I wanted it so badly that I picked it up and started eating it anyway, mud and all. And then, as I ate it, time deepened and slowed down again. With a lurch of the heart that is real to me still, I saw suddenly, almost as if from beyond time altogether, that not only was the turnip good, but the mud was good too, even the drizzle and cold were good, even the Army that I had dreaded for months. Sitting there in the Alabama winter with my mouth full of cold turnip and mud, I could see at least for a moment how if you ever took truly to heart the ultimate goodness and joy of things, even at their bleakest, the need to praise someone or something for it would be so great that you might even have to go out and speak of it to the birds of the air.” (Buechner, Frederick. Listening to Your Life. HarperOne. Kindle Edition.)

How do you hear G-d calling you? This is one of the most important questions a Christian can ask him or herself. Why? Because if we do not hear the voice of G-d calling us, how do we know that we are the right path in our walk with G-d? Now I can hear some of you contemplating the question “What does it feel like or look like to hear G-d’s voice?” Well, is it possible that we can hear the voice of G-d even in the smallest gestures – like someone sharing their meager resources with you.

Frederick Buechner writes: “Sitting there in the Alabama winter with my mouth full of cold turnip and mud, I could see at least for a moment how if you ever took truly to heart the ultimate goodness and joy of things, even at their bleakest, the need to praise someone or something for it would be so great that you might even have to go out and speak of it to the birds of the air.”

We do not have to hear an audible voice to know that G-d is calling us. It can be that inner drive to offer our resources to others, or to recognize the gracious acts of others who feel called to do, or act, or give, or help. And finally, we may even hear that still, small voice of G-d voicing a direction or a path for ministry.

We need to be certain that we take the time to quiet our minds, so we can hear the voice of G-d. And do not be surprised when G-d calls you when you least expect it – and always be prepared to share your experiences with others.

Pastor Dave

“As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” Luke 10:38-42

“My grandmother called to tell me she’d gotten an e-mail account. “Great,” I said. “Send me a message so I’ll have your e-mail address.” I waited and waited, but she never sent it. Several days later, an envelope arrived—Grandma had written her info on a piece of paper and mailed it to me.” (Meagan Lundgren, Calgary, Ontario)

“Whatever my twenty-year-old self was, it was the pivot on which the circle of my life revolved. I do not think that I was a more selfish person than most. Through such unhappiness as I had known myself, I had a feeling for the unhappiness of others, and at least to those I liked I had it in me to be a good friend. But I was, as I have said, centered on myself. The tree, the cloud, the sun—I knew there was a wider world beyond myself and my small circle: the world that Saint Francis praised God for, the world that had marked with such sadness and pity and weariness the face of Jesus in Da Vinci’s study. And I knew that somewhere out there, or deep beneath, there might well be God for all I knew.” (Buechner, Frederick. Listening to Your Life. HarperOne. Kindle Edition.)

The story of Mary and Martha is a story of personal and collective devotion. Martha knew that there would be food to prepare, people to serve, and expectations from the community. Mary had a different viewpoint – she understood that sometimes we need to care more about ourselves than our familial or community expectations. And this is a hard balance to strike – no matter if we know it or not.

Frederick Buechner understood this about himself. He knew he cared for the other – but he also knew how his own selfishness impacted that compassion. I see this conflict Buechner understood, and Mary and Martha lived out, as a conflict between the old and the new. Martha was behaving in the manner that the old establishment of her culture and society expected her to act. Mary on the other hand was doing something new, and radical. Instead of assuming the role of the servant, she assumes the role of the student – sitting at the feet of the teacher – which would have been the place where only men would gather.

Here is the dilemma. Jesus desires our works but does not need our works to love us. But Jesus needs our ears, our eyes, our hearts and our very bodies in a relationship of worship and devotion. Of course, the church needs both – the Marthas and the Marys of our world and society. We need those who feel called to serve, and we need those who are obedient and called to learn. Our discernment is to know when we should do one or the other – and to make sure our lives are balanced with both.

Pastor Dave