The Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year B, January 18, 2015; The Rev. Pamela L. Werntz

O God of our wildest dreams, may we have the wisdom, the strength, and the courage to seek always and everywhere after truth – come when it may and cost what it will.

This morning we heard the stirring reading of the call of Samuel with the fantastic introduction that back then (“then” being about 1100 BCE), in the olden days, the word of the Lord was rare, and the ability to see clearly was not widespread! Eli the priest and his sons were responsible for guarding the Ark of the Covenant and its holy oracle, which, in those days, was more like a war trophy than a piece of liturgical furniture. Eli’s sons did not behave well at all and Eli wasn’t able to get them to change their violent ways. This is a story of the transfer of authority from Eli to Samuel that highlights Eli’s wisdom and integrity, and Samuel’s responsiveness and bravery. For me, this story has always been a powerful lesson about how the Word of the Holy One can come through the voices of humans, in this case, a beloved teacher. Have you ever heard your name called by a beloved teacher and known that you were being invited to grow in leadership and authority? That’s how God works sometimes.

From Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, we heard an exhortation to remember that we are to treat our bodies – individually and collectively as if we are precious to God, because we are. We are to ensure that our bodies – individually and collectively – are treated as if we are temples for the Holy Spirit within us – because the spirit of holiness is within each, whether we acknowledge her presence there or not. We are to treat bodies – individually and collectively — with the utmost dignity and respect. Can you hear this reminder that individually and collectively we are beloved of God? Listen, because that’s how God works sometimes.

And from the Gospel of John, we hear this fascinating little story, interrupting our lectionary’s otherwise sequential reading from the Gospel of Mark. It’s a fast-paced and cryptic account of the two disciples called immediately after Andrew and Simon Peter, namely, Philip and Nathanael. This is a call story that is different from and incompatible with the story of the call of the disciples in the other Gospels. Nathanael is not named anywhere else in the whole New Testament. His name means gift of God, or given from God. Jesus calls him an Israelite in whom there is no guile or deceit, in contrast to Jacob – also known as Israel – who tricked his brother and his father to get the birthright and blessing.

What does Jesus mean when he says that he saw Nathanael under the fig tree before Philip called him? I don’t know, but maybe this: In this passage from the Gospel of John, full of allusions to the First Testament, John’s audience would have known the biblical prophecies of “a time when a man would call his neighbor under a vine and fig tree…mark[ing] the advent of a messianic Branch who would reign as [a David-like] king according to Zechariah [and] Jeremiah.” [1] According to the footnote in the JANT, the tree of the knowledge in Genesis is traditionally considered to have been a fig tree. [2]

This is a passage that is all about seeing. This is in the same Gospel where Jesus says in response to Thomas, blessed are those who have not seen and yet have come to believe. Two things strike me about the Nathanael and Thomas stories are that Jesus discloses the most about himself to the ones who express skepticism and doubt in this Gospel. And, that no matter how we’re used to hearing about these lessons, I think they teach us that seeing is not about believing. Rather, seeing is about beloving.

You might have read the essay in the New York Times a week or so ago by Mandy Len Catron about falling in love. [3] I thought of it because this story from John seems like the story of when Nathanael, fell in love with the ministry and mission of Jesus. Catron is writing about two individuals falling in love with each other. She cites “psychologist Arthur Aron [who] succeeded in making two strangers fall in love in his laboratory.” In Aron’s experiment, two strangers meet to answer a series of 36 increasingly personal questions over the course of a couple of hours, and then stare silently into each others eyes for four solid minutes. Catron writes about trying this out with an acquaintance. She says:

“I’ve skied steep slopes and hung from a rock face by a short length of rope, but staring into someone’s eyes for four silent minutes was one of the more thrilling and terrifying experiences of my life. I spent the first couple of minutes just trying to breathe properly. There was a lot of nervous smiling until, eventually, we settled in.

I know the eyes are the windows to the soul or whatever, but the real crux of the moment was not just that I was really seeing someone, but that I was seeing someone really seeing me. Once I embraced the terror of this realization and gave it time to subside, I arrived somewhere unexpected.

I felt brave, and in a state of wonder. Part of that wonder was at my own vulnerability and part was the weird kind of wonder you get from saying a word over and over until it loses its meaning and becomes what it actually is: an assemblage of sounds…”

Catron explains that we commonly believe that love is something that happens to us, but Aron’s study demonstrates that love is an action that has to do with seeing and being seen, about bothering to know someone and about being known.

She concludes, “It’s true you can’t choose who loves you… and you can’t create romantic feelings based on convenience alone. Science tells us biology matters; our pheromones and hormones do a lot of work behind the scenes. But despite all this, I’ve begun to think love is a more pliable thing than we make it out to be.” She concludes that it’s possible to generate trust and intimacy, the feelings love needs to thrive. It’s possible to choose to love. For Nathanael and the others, following Jesus was choosing to see Love and be seen by Love as Love.

What does Jesus’ promise or prediction mean about seeing heaven opened and the angels of God ascending and descending on the Son of Man? (You might remember that was Jacob’s dream – of angels ascending and descending.) I don’t know, but maybe this: Many of you know that since November, clergy and lay leaders in central Boston have been meeting weekly to address the humanitarian crisis prompted by the sudden closure of the harbor bridge to Long Island, which sheltered more than 700 of our most vulnerable Bostonians. We have organized around communication with the mayor’s office, communication in the media, and finding ways to provide relief to folks who do not have safe, adequate, and dignified places to stay.

Emmanuel Church has been working to figure out how to provide day shelter on Mondays and Fridays through the rest of the winter, to augment the programs we already host for people who are unhoused or marginally housed every Wednesday – with common art and Boston Benevolent Chiropractic Care. Last week when City Mission Society agreed to organize fundraising to pay for two day center staff people, we started brainstorming about people who already have the training, experience and availability to start within one week for a ten-week part time job.

The Rev. Christen Mills is one of the new priests who was ordained last weekend with Patrick Cheng. When Christen’s name came up in another context last Tuesday, Tamra Tucker wondered out loud if she might be interested, and I remembered that two months ago she told me she was looking for a day shelter staff job to supplement her part time work as Assistant Rector at St. Peter’s, Weston. Eureka! Within about 24 hours, she was on board. But who would the second staff person be?

For weeks, people at these organizing meetings have been suggesting Raymond Hamilton, formerly employed by Elliott Community Services on staff at Aggressive Street Outreach, the drop-in center based in our basement for many years, but which closed last June due to lack of funding. Everyone agreed that Raymond would be perfect – he’s trusted by everyone, he knows Emmanuel Church, but nobody knew how to find him. We haven’t seen him since June. Our best lead was that our former cleaning sexton, Dennis Gaskell, now working for Boston Rescue Mission might know. He did – and he gave Tamra Raymond’s phone number on Tuesday at the end of the day. On Wednesday morning, Raymond walked in the door to cheers from the common art community. “Everyone is looking for you!” “Pam wants to talk with you!” I saw him ascending the stairs to the third floor. “Wow, that was fast! When did Tamra reach you?” He didn’t know what I was talking about. “Tamra didn’t call,” he said, “I just had a feeling that I should drop by and say hello today.” I explained the day shelter concept and asked if he wanted to help run it for ten weeks. He jumped up and hugged me and said, “yes! This is how God works! This is how God works!” Then I saw him descending the stairs from the third floor and heard him say, “Wow! Hahaha! Wow! Wow!” Tamra and I saw heaven opened and an angel of God ascending and descending upon the Son of Humanity just this past Wednesday.

This is how God works – through the voices of our teachers, in our waking and our sleeping, in our wildest dreams, in respecting the dignity of our bodies – individual bodies and collective bodies. This is how Love works – in how we choose to look and see, in how we allow ourselves to be deeply seen. This is how the heavens open up and angels of God ascend and descend upon the Body of Christ. It’s true!

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