Getting out of the Dock
Pastor David Hansen
5th Sunday after Epiphany
February 8, 2009
1 Corinthians 9:16-23
Have you ever had a person in your life that you compared yourself to? You know, that person who always did a little bit better than you – the person whose standard you could never quite live up to? Or, maybe it is someone who is always judging you – that person in your life who is always telling you what you did wrong, or how you aren’t good enough?
I would be willing to bet that each of you has a person like that in your life. A person who makes you feel just about this big.
Well, I have a confession to make this morning. The Apostle Paul is that person for me, and he scares me silly.
He is intimidating to me. He is so blunt, so straightforward. And more than anything else, he is just so darn committed. Listen again to what he says this morning to the Corinthians: “For though I am free with respect to all, I have made myself a slave to all … I have become all things to all people, that I might by all means save some.”
“A Slave to all?” Now that is a pretty tall order if I have ever heard one.
Every time I think about this description that Paul gives of his ministry, I shiver just a little. I think about how that one man changed the world with his ministry. I think about his passion and commitment to the Gospel. And I realize how small I really am.
Have you ever felt small like that? Insignificant? Unimportant and incapable? It is amazing how often those feelings are tied up with what someone else has told us about ourselves.
But back to Paul – think back to Sunday School and what you learned about his ministry. He preached in Palestine, in what is now Turkey, in Greece, in Rome, and perhaps even in Spain. He put miles and miles on his sandals, all for the sake of proclaiming the Gospel message – and, at the end of the day, the advice he wrote to congregations became the largest portion of our New Testament.
Paul is a hero for us. A giant of the faith.
But, and here’s the thing: it is amazing what happens when you look at the world with hindsight. To us, two thousand years later, Paul is a giant. But I am pretty sure that he didn’t think of himself that way, and I know that his contemporaries didn’t either.
In fact, listen to how Paul is described by a near-contemporary:
“Bald-headed, bowlegged, strongly built, a man small in size, with meeting eyebrows and a rather large nose.”
Not exactly a giant. In fact, Paul is described as a short, round, little bowling ball with a uni-brow and a big nose.
There is no reason that a person like Paul – a funny looking guy with very few social skills – should have amounted to anything. There is no reason that he should be remembered by history.
But he is.
And the reason we remember Paul is not because he was a great, extraordinary man. It is not because he had these abilities and talents that we lack.
No, we remember Paul because Paul had a mission.
It happened one day on the road that this ill-mannered little man met the risen Christ. And Paul, always fighting to prove himself, always fighting to be good enough, heard the Lord say, “You. Of all the people in the world, I have chosen you to change the world.”
And he did. One follower. One mission.
So where does that leave you and me?
Well, I think it is safe to say that we have been looking for success in all the wrong ways. We have been so caught up in all those voices that tell us how unimportant and insignificant we are, that we have believed the message that our lives will never matter.
After all, important people, giants, are the ones remembered forever. Presidents. CEOs. Charismatic movers and shakers. These are the world changers. Not little people like us. And so we don’t even try. We stay safe and risk nothing.
But the little guy, Paul, reminds us that each one of us has a mission.
Do me a favor, pull out your worship book and turn to page 237 in the front of the book. Listen once more to the covenant or promise that we made with God in Holy Baptism:
Will you live among God’s faithful people,
hear the Word and share in the supper,
– and here’s where we really get to it –
will you proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed,
serve all people, following the example of Jesus,
and strive for justice and peace in all the earth?
Out of all the people in the world, God has chosen you to carry out this mission.
Proclaim the good news in word and deed.
You are the one who is important enough, capable enough, and special enough to take on this essential mission.
Now, for the most part we don’t even try. And I mean we, I am as guilty as anyone. It is frightening to believe that we can make a difference. It is scary to put ourselves out there and try. After all – who am I to think that I can change the world?
I have a friend who regularly sails out on the Caribbean. He had a beautiful, expensive boat that he spent all of his time (and money) on. And then, on one of his trips, he got caught on a reef and tore a hole in the bottom of the ship. I asked him about it once.
David, he said, the only place where a ship is entirely safe is in port, at the dock. But ships are not made to stay in dock.
We can lick our wounds. We can listen to those voices that tell us that we can’t make a difference, that we are too unimportant and insignificant.
Or.
Or we can boldly step out and live out our mission.
What would Prairie Hill look like if each one of us could share the message of the Gospel with just one more person?
What would Washington county look like if we made it a priority to make sure that everyone heard the Gospel message?
What might our lives look like, if before we did anything we asked ourselves whether or not it will help us to proclaim?
Friends, out of all the people in the world, God chose you.
proclaim the good news of God in Christ through word and deed, he said.
You and I, with God’s help and God’s mission, have the power to be giants.
All we have to do is leave the dock and take the risk.