The Rev. Jimmy Abbott
Second Sunday after Epiphany
January 14, 2024
1 Samuel 3:1-10

“Now the Lord came and stood there, calling as before, ‘Samuel! Samuel!’ And Samuel said, ‘Speak, for your servant is listening’” (I Samuel 3:1-10).

Perhaps for obvious reasons, this passage from Scripture has always resonated with me. A young boy ministering to God. A divine calling. Confusion about who is doing that calling. And eventually, a life lived trying to answer this call. Not that I am Samuel, but I do see something of myself in this story.

But I realized something else. That many of you probably do not know how I came to stand here, before you. How it was that I was called to this life. My mother’s father was a priest in the Episcopal Church. I’m wearing one of his stoles today. But for whatever reason, my family did not go to church. Well, we did, twice a year. We were the people who sat in your pew on Easter and Christmas Eve. But a few things happened in my life when I turned sixteen. First, my grandmother died. Hers was not the first death in my family, but it was the first one in which I was conscious of life and death. And as we gathered at St. George’s Episcopal Church in La Cañada, California for her funeral, I realized that this ritual, this gathering, meant something. 

But I also got a little inheritance from my grandmother – I got her 1979 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. Let me clarify that – I got her pink 1979 Cadillac Coupe de Ville. With white leather seats, a 405 V8, and an eight track player blasting, “Blood, Sweat, and Tears,” I started driving myself to that Episcopal Church in Dallas where my family would go on Easter and Christmas Eve. I’m not sure what it was – maybe a growing sense of independence, maybe it was my way of rebelling against my parents, maybe it was a way to connect with my grandparents. However it happened, God worked through it. I found a community that accepted me. I found a place to learn and grow. And I kept hearing this call, I kept seeing myself up there, at church, doing all that churchy stuff. But I kept it hidden.

Now, there was an older priest at that church that looked out for me. When I was leaving for college, we sat down in his office and he asked what my major was going to be at UT. I hemmed and hawked, but you looked at me and said, “look, you’re going to be a priest.” Like Eli, speaking to Samuel, in a flash, it all made sense. I had built this emotional and spiritual dam, and it collapsed and out came the water and the Holy Spirit and suddenly, my life made sense. I went to college, to seminary, I got ordained. None of that was easy, but at least when things got hard, I knew that the call was real. And that song that we just sang, “Here I am Lord.” I can tell you, I get goosebumps whenever I hear it, because that was the soundtrack to my teenage years.

‘Speak, for your servant is listening’” (I Samuel 3:10).

I also want to say how privileged this can all sound. And I acknowledge that. Not everybody has the opportunities I’ve had. So I want to say two things. First, how grateful I am. For that church, for that priest, for this church. This work, this life, is both the greatest blessing and the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still get nervous when I walk up here; not because I’m scared of you, but because I know what power the words of a priest can have on someone.

And that brings me to the second thing I want to say. That Spirit that called Samuel is still alive and active today. This is not some old, dusty, Bible story. This is the living, breathing, moving Spirit of God even today. I do believe that the Spirit of God still calls people, like you, to service in the church. Both to ordination, but more likely, not to ordination. To serve in other ways. This is not some lame church announcement that we need more people to help out. No, this is a reminder that the Spirit of God is still speaking, even to you. 

And, as I often pray, that the Spirit of God is still calling women and men to serve as priests and deacons. I pray that the Samuels out there would listen. Think of where the church is right now with clergy. Picture in your mind a map of southeast Texas. Draw an arc from Freeport, to League City, to Beaumont. Inside of that arc, with all those hundreds of thousands of people, there is one full-time Episcopal priest. You’re looking at him. Lots of you ask me about Trinity getting an assistant rector, someone to help out. That would be great. But it’s not like we’re growing on trees. The issue, as I see it, is not that God isn’t calling, it’s that like Samuel, we don’t know where the call is coming from. And so, like Samuel, we run to all the wrong places. I pray then, that you have an Eli in your life. To point you in the right direction, back to God.

There is one last thing I want to say about God’s call on your life. Whether that call is to ordination or not. I am familiar with all of the reasons that you should not listen to God’s call. You’re not good enough, you don’t know the Bible enough, you already have a job and don’t want to give that up; you are worried about what your family will say, you are worried about coming across as too pious. I an familiar with all those thoughts, because I had them all, and every priest I know still wrestles with those questions, concerns, and doubts. None of that is new. 

And that’s where I would like to end, with this quirky little story from the Gospel of John. Philip meets Jesus, and then Philip goes and gets Nathanael to come along. And what Nathanael says about Jesus we often say about ourselves – “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” How could I possibly be a leader in the church? How could I talk about Jesus? How could I listen to God’s call? Can anything good come out of me? 

All I can say is what Philip said back to Nathanael – “come and see.” Come and see what this kind of life with Jesus could mean. Come and see how hard it is, to walk in this way. Come and see the beauty and the joy of committing yourself to God and God’s people. Come and see, because I know that God is calling you. And when you hear that call I pray you would have the courage to say, “Speak Lord, for your servant is listening.”