A Sermon about God’s Call Jan 16, 1994 by Rev. Chris Hinnen on 1 Samuel 3:1-10 (Excerpt)

The call.
God calls.
We respond.
. . .

Time and again in scripture the word is that God does not always speak to us loudly.
Sometimes we need to lie back and simply listen.
Where do we find God?
How does God find us? . . .

My journey towards Christ and the ordained ministry came about through the silence of God.
Many of you have heard the story.
I was a non-practicing Christian who was an agnostic.
In the silence of a meadow,
Surrounded by trees,
On the top of a hill,
In a commune,
In Ithaca, NY,
God found me in the serenity of a moment.
The majesty of God’s creation screamed at me in sheer silence, “I made this.”

In another time, in another place, I was called forward on the journey.
The church was chaotic.
People were praying everywhere.
And crying.
Surrounding me, though, was a transcendent silence.
A peace that could only be called the peace that passes all understanding.
The peace of Christ.
The calm radiated off the image of the face of Christ that had mysteriously appeared on the altar cloth.

Jesus Christ was to be the center of my life from then on.

A third time that God called to me was to the ordained ministry.
Again, I was in a church.
It was St. Paul’s United Methodist Church in Ithaca.
In the midst of that sermon one could have heard a pin drop on the red carpet.
It was one of those moments that occurs only rarely in preaching.
God was speaking to me through this man’s life story.
In the tranquility of that instant in time, I heard.
Be still.

In the story of Samuel, we hear very simply how it is that we may still hear the voice of God . . . Eli’s advice to lie down is a way of saying, “Let go. Let God.” Lying down allowed Samuel to surrender to a force bigger than he. It was a way of saying to Samuel, and to us, “Trust the Sprit.” . . .

Melissa’s Response: February 2, 2022

Dear Dad,

For most of my life you encouraged me to slow down. “Why do you always have do be doing something?” You asked me. Contemplation has never been my gift and to be honest, your seeming lack of a sense of urgency sometimes frustrated me.

At the same time, I recognize that while you operated from a more chill posture, your stillness allowed you to listen and respond to God and God’s people.
Where do we find God?
How does God find us? . . .

A path of faith formation grew out of your agnosticism.
Our spiritual not religious hippy family
Playing in the grass as a little girl, aware of divine love all around me
The commune with friends named Forever, Love-Light, and Freedom
Transcendental Meditation – a family committed to 20 minutes of silence twice a day.
Sensing a moment of complete lightness and peace –
which when I asked, Mom explained to me was called “bliss.”
As a flower child In Ithaca, NY,
God found me in the serenity of many moments in time.

Life became more oriented around Christianity after that trip to Pennsylvania
where Jesus’ face appeared on the altar cloth.
I felt safe at our home church, St. Paul’s United Methodist Church
with it’s stained glass images of Jesus,
angels painted over the choir loft,
the organ music and hymns filling the space.
You and Mom presented me with the “Children’s Living Bible” on the day of my baptism.
Fragile paper and the tiny print that was so different from my other books.
There was a shift in our household as Jesus Christ found space in our home.

You went to seminary and were ordained for ministry,
But resisted pressuring me to be a “pastor’s kid.”
My high school friends didn’t go to church.
Sunday mornings became a chance to sleep in.
I drifted away from being part of a faith community.

Spiritually parched.
A young single mom,
caring for Cassie
going to college and working to exhaustion to pay the bills (but never all in the same month).

My faith stagnated.
But the door was always open
even when I only visited your church on Christmas and Easter.
Way too tired to sit still.
Way too busy to hear God for 15 years.

Life changes and sometimes we are forced to stop.
In that pause, we might find ourselves pulled forward in the journey.
Your sister died and I yearned for the blessed assurance
that I had sensed in Aunt Margee.
I started to work at Mustard Seed School, my first Christian job, and took a leap of faith by accepting a deep pay cut.
(You convinced me I would have enough money if I did what I felt called to do.)

Cassie and I found ourselves at Washington Square United Methodist Church
which later became the Church of the Village.
The intimate setting,
transfiguration sermon
warm congregation,
unique sacred jazz.
In that space, I found a peace that could only be called
the peace that passes all understanding.
The peace of Christ.
Jesus Christ was to be the center of my life from then on.

Six years later God called me into ordained ministry.
Spiritual healing after tragic loss.
Praying with people in their vulnerability
Feeling God’s love pour through me and into others.
I wrote in my journal.
“I am feeling the tug and understanding when people say they are called.
It is time for stillness and to focus on what God is asking of me”
In the tranquility of that instant in time, I heard.
Be still.

We celebrated my 39th birthday,
And you joyfully hugged me when I shared the news of my call.
You traveled 2 hours to hear me preach my first sermon and affirmed the words that I had declared.
While I explored scripture and theology as a seminarian, we had treasured conversations.
And when at last I was ordained, though you had already physically left us,
I felt your hands on my head as the bishop declared
“Melissa, take authority as an elder to preach the Word of God,
to administer the Holy Sacraments
and to order the life of the Church.”

You closed your sermon about Samuel’s call saying:
In these days, the vision of God seems to be rare. But, it is not absent. God’s presence is with us continually in this world. If we let go, if we listen, God will speak to each of us. The question is, “how will we respond?”

Reflection on the Scripture: Where do we find God?

Visions are not widespread.
God is not well known.
Where do we find God?
How does God find us?

The world swirls with suffering.
Spiritually parched.

Shhhhh . . .
Pause . . .
Listen . . .
God still speaks –
Through vessels of creation,
In paintings and poems, life stories and quiet stillness.

Through relationships and testimony
Joy bubbles up alongside pain.

The soul gradually realigns itself
A lifelong process
Guided by the Divine

Where do we find God?
How does God find us?

In sacred moments of serenity.
In the tranquility of an instant.

The vision is rare but it is not absent.
How will you respond?
~Inspired by 1 Samuel 3:1-10 in conversation with my father

In the fall of 2020, I took a New York Theological Seminary “Urban Leadership Seminar” with Bishop Alfred Johnson for continuing education. Our guest lecturer, Dr. Wanda Lundy, encouraged us to be aware of the gifts of our ancestors. How do their voices and lives shape our ministry? How do they continue to speak to us?

I thought of a treasure box of my dad’s sermons, tucked away in my home office cabinet and realized it is time to have some new conversations with my father.  As my “sending” pastor, mentor, and dear family friend, Bishop Johnson also had served as my father’s bishop so it is perhaps fitting that it was in his class that this project began to take shape. With the support of my Creative Haven sisters, I began the process in the spring of 2021.