Sermon for the Seventh Sunday after Pentecost

July 7, 2024. Texts: Ezekiel 2:1-5; 2 Corinthians 12:2-10; Mark 6:1-13.

We went to the mainland in our little Ford Ranger truck which is approaching a significant birthday. The one where you qualify for a special license plate. The truck, a relic from the town of Friday Harbor’s maintenance fleet has low miles. But things wear out anyway.

At Fred Meyer the truck refused to start. After some deliberation we called AAA. While waiting for a ride we went inside where it was cooler. The display of patio furniture invited us to sit and be comfortable.

Along came an elder gentleman pushing a full cart. He stopped and sat in one of the chairs, and began a cheerful conversation. Turns out that when he shops at Fred Meyer he always stops there on the way out to rest for a moment.

It also turned out that he’d driven trucks for a living, and that he knew something about mechanics. His father had even owned an auto repair shop back in the day. When he learned our reason for lingering in the patio furniture display, he was very helpful in thinking through what the truck’s problem might be. Bad gas filters? Burned spark plugs? Failed fuel pump?

Was this our very own divine intervention? Did God send this man to help us out? Could he fix our truck in the parking lot? How amazing is that?

However, the man was happy just to ponder the mechanical possibilities. He didn’t offer to go out and take a look. So it goes.

Eventually AAA arrived and loaded our truck on to a wrecker and we departed to a local repair shop. We had to leave our truck of course. The holiday was looming, and the mechanics were all busy. They arranged a ride to the ferry and we returned home.

What does God’s help look like? Ezekiel was summoned by God to a meeting and given his first assignment. It was a very dire prophecy and critique of Israel.

In God’s presence the prophet fell to the ground. Which may have been out of respect. But it equally well could have been out of pure fear – either of God, or of the people who would not appreciate being called out for their stubbornness and transgressions of God’s covenant.

We’re listening in on an intimate and specific conversation between God and Israel. It’s a family dispute with God weighing in as a disappointed parent. This is not a characterization of Jewish people. When a text like this is used to justify anti-Semitism it is wrong and serves evil purposes.

Did God expect Ezekiel to succeed with this assignment? Not at all. God knows none of us listens well when we are set on going our own way. Even when that way is not in anyone’s best interest. Sometimes even God’s direct intervention fails to help in the way we expect.

Paul was up against some people who were called the super-apostles. These were popular success-driven Christian leaders in Asia Minor who claimed to have received revelations of secret things from God. Breaking news from God! Large crowds came to hear them speak.

Of course Paul had his own experience, in Damascus. But he purposely spoke about it as if it was someone else who had known that profound intimacy with God. And he said that when heavenly things are heard, they are not to be told. He may have meant that there is no human speech that can adequately express what is heard and experienced in heaven.

Rather than dwell on success, Paul took up the matter of weakness. He told his community that he was ordinary just like them. In fact, he was even kept from feeling successful by a certain messenger of Satan. He was humbled by his circumstances.

We don’t know if this was a person, or a physical or mental impediment. All we know is that it kept him very humble. And Paul’s opinion was that humility actually helped him be God’s servant.

So Paul felt weak, not strong. And yet God chose him and equipped him. So it goes with our God.

Certainly Jesus was not always a success. He was almost completely shut down in Nazareth. People could see that he was wise, thoughtful, and a healer too. But none of these things could overcome his identity as a common wood worker, and the son of a local woman whose husband was apparently no longer around.

Jesus did what he could in that area, which was little more than be an itinerant rabbi, teaching as he went. Along the way he gathered his disciples. As Jesus sent them out, he made sure that they would not succeed in finding food or shelter without the help of others. And he gave them an unpopular message – telling people to repent.

Jesus even told them they would fail to get people’s approval sometimes. But they were to carry on with their work, undaunted. So it goes with our God.

God does what God does. It’s not usually what we expect. It’s not always welcome. So we practice trusting that God’s purposes are accomplished in God’s ways and in God’s time; at times in us and through us. And often despite us.

We remind ourselves of this especially when we are faced with our failures and mortal limitations. When there is another deadly mass shooting; another airstrike that kills ordinary people going about their lives; when there is another heartbreaking story of famine or natural disaster. When we grieve, when we suffer, when we are discouraged.

It seems God didn’t send a mechanic to fix our truck in the parking lot of Fred Meyer. It was not a dire situation anyway, merely inconvenient. Perhaps God sent us a companion on the way to keep us company and to encourage us instead. A different but welcome kind of intervention. And by the way, our unexpected friend was right after all – it was the fuel pump that failed.