Your name is "Servant"

1^st Week OT (M): 1 Sam 1.1-18 and Mark 1.14-20
Fr. Philip Neri Powell, OP
St Albert the Great Priory

There you are. . .sitting in the library reading. There you are standing all by yourself in Kroger shopping. There you are strolling down a mellow neighborhood street enjoying the breeze. And completely surprised! You hear your name! John. David. Aaron. No other sound. No other voice. Bill. Jackie. Anne. Like a pistol shot out of the blinding dark. Marty. Michael. Christopher. Eddy. You jump. Maybe your heart quickens. You might want to run. And then there is that suspended moment in time between hearing your name and turning to the name-caller, just a single, lonely half sweep of the second hand between recognizing your name and recognizing the voice of the caller; it is just an infinitesimally small dot of not-knowing-who-calls. . .but you turn anyway. And you say, “Yes.” Now, imagine that the voice that calls your name out of a depthless silence, imagine that that voice could belong to anyone, just anyone at all. . .

The sun is high but the wind is cool enough. The fish are almost leaping into the nets. Voices carry over the lazy water. It was almost time to sit down for a small meal. And just as they pull the next net of fish from the Galilee Sea, they hear: Simon. Andrew. James. John. They are fishermen. And when he calls them by name, “they [leave] their nets and [follow] him.” What did these men hear when Christ called to them? Did they hear their names spoken aloud? The gospel just says that Jesus called out his invitation: “Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men.” Does this sound like “Simon” or “Andrew” or “James” or “John”? If not, why do these sensible working men just leave their nets, their family, their hired help, and follow Jesus? Imagine yourself at work today. A stranger walks into the office, the classroom, the bank, the store, and says to you: “Follow me.” And then walks away. No name. No indication that the person knows you. Just, “Follow me.” Do you leave your desk, your calculator, your books, and follow? In that infinitesimally small dot of not-knowing-who-calls-you, don’t you wonder who calls? Of course you do!

How strange is it that Simon, Andrew, James, and John—not hearing their names from Jesus and apparently not knowing who he is—leave their livelihood and follow him? It is exceedingly strange. . .well, unless, of course, we will say that when Christ calls us to follow him, he simultaneously re-names us with our mission. In other words, what we hear when he calls is not an old name, an “unturned name,” but the name he gives us to turn us to him. Perhaps you will be startled to recognize in this new name of yours an old mission. Or you might find comfort in hearing again why you were made. There could fear or anxiety or abiding pleasure. However you might feel about being renamed when called to your mission, turn and say “Yes, Lord!” Remember: at baptism we took on the life of Christ, adopting his name for our mission. . .there is no moment, no place when we are without the name of Christ; no moment, no place when we are without his prophetic and priestly ministry. Our lives are lives of constant conversion, turning-always back to Christ, turning back to follow him.

Here’s your assignment. When someone calls your name today, turn to them, and say to yourself: “What can I leave behind today to make Christ better known to you?” Or perhaps you can say to yourself: “Yes, Lord! How may I serve?” We prayed the responsorial to the Psalm 116 this morning: “To you, Lord, I will offer a sacrifice of praise.” Will you? When you hear your name called today, offer a sacrifice of praise to God by saying, “O Lord, I am your servant…you have loosed my bonds.”