Raise your hand if you’ve never experienced low self-esteem, insecurity or feelings of unworthiness... I thought so. We’ve all wrestled with these at one time or another. And when we do, some of us throw in the towel and give up, powerless before the situation or task that confronts us. Others attempt to conquer feelings of unworthiness by undergoing one of the 8.3 million “surgical and non-surgical cosmetic procedures” that took place in the US last year, which is up 180% from the year 2000. In fact, producers of the ABC reality show Extreme Makeover had to sort through more than 50,000 applications from men and women looking to overcome feelings of worthlessness through the miracle of modern plastic surgery. Yes, we’ve gotten quite creative in the ways in which we deal with low self-esteem and insecurity, but these feelings are not unique to 21st century life; in fact, low self-esteem has been plaguing men and women ever since the days of the Old Testament.

Case in point: When God spoke to Moses from the burning bush, asking him to confront Pharaoh about the miserable plight of the Israelites, Moses’ first reaction was, “yeah, right.” Needless to say, Moses was probably a bit shaken up by this conversation with God. After all, he’d fled from the royal household of Egypt where he’d been raised, rejoined his people in the desert, gotten married, and settled into the predictable rhythms of life as a shepherd. And then, from out of the blue, God calls. Personally, when I read the story, I like to think that God’s voice sounds like a cross between that of NPR’s Carl Castle and the late, great Barry White. Regardless, Moses did everything in his power to convince both God and himself that he was not the right man for the job.

He begins by pointing out that he isn’t particularly “qualified” to return to Egypt and demand that its leader release the Israelites from captivity. After all, Moses wasn’t rich or charismatic, he wasn’t connected to the “right” people, and he didn’t hold any advanced degrees from a prestigious, Ivy League college. In fact, he wasn’t even sure what he’d say if someone challenged him about this God who’d sent him.
If you continue to read Exodus, you’ll see that Moses goes on to remind God that he is also “slow of speech and tongue,” which Biblical scholars have interpreted as meaning that Moses stuttered. Why on earth God would call on someone who not only lacked credentials but who also stuttered to serve as His spokesperson and plead the case of an oppressed population?

But God doesn’t buy any of Moses’ excuses. So finally, after pointing out every imperfection and listing every good reason why he shouldn’t be the one to liberate the Israelites, Moses flat out says, “Lord, please send someone else to do it.”

Ironically, when I received an e-mail from Wendy in which she invited me to prepare a sermon for this service, my first reaction was, “yeah, right.” Let’s face it, I went to Library school, not seminary, which means that I’m not “qualified” to be preaching. Besides, I often talk too fast, and my Boston accent tends to slip out when I get nervous.

So why am I up here? Why didn’t I ask Wendy to send someone else to do it? Well, I’m here because of the words that God said to Moses to calm his fears: “I will be with you.” When God calls out to us in his smooth, Barry White voice, or, for that matter, when Wendy invites us to perform a challenging task for the church, He doesn’t leave us hanging; no, God is with us every step of the way.

We encounter a similar brush with low-self esteem in today’s New Testament reading. Jesus is preaching from Simon Peter’s boat because the crowd on shore has become too large and unruly. When He finishes, Jesus asks Simon, James and John to lower their freshly scrubbed fishing nets back into the water. Now these were experienced fishermen, and they knew that the best time of day to catch fish was after dark. To Simon and company, casting fishing nets in broad daylight was about as pointless as you or I trying to explain Einstein’s theory of relativity to Jessica Simpson.

But they went ahead and humored Jesus anyway. Then, to their disbelief, the nets filled up to the point that they began to rip in half. And what is Simon Peter’s reaction to this miraculous event? He falls to his knees and says “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Now why would he say something like that? Maybe because Simon knew that he was in the presence of God, and he felt completely unworthy, much as Moses had felt unworthy thousands of years before. And, like Moses, Simon felt scared. He felt scared because, after witnessing this miracle and encountering the power of God in a fully tangible manner, he recognized that life as he knew it would never be the same. So rather than embrace God’s glory and risk transformation, he asks Jesus to go away. But Jesus doesn’t. Despite Simon Peter’s fear and insistence that he is an unworthy sinner, Jesus still invites the disciple to do God’s work here on earth by “fishing for followers.”

I love these two stories because they illustrate the fact that God works through broken, imperfect, dysfunctional people. Neither Moses nor the fishermen did anything spectacular to warrant God’s invitation. And furthermore, God’s call occurred in the most mundane of locations: the workplace. Moses was tending sheep, and Simon Peter and company were fishing; these were their day jobs.
And I love these stories due to the fact that God didn’t call on Moses and Simon Peter because they were great men; no, it was by accepting God’s call and opening themselves up to transformation that they became great. Despite their flaws, and maybe even because of them, God used Moses and Simon Peter to help plant the seeds of His kingdom here on earth.

So what about us? How do these stories fit into our lives? The good news is that God still calls on unsuspecting, insecure men and women every day. By our very nature as Christians, God calls upon us to help our suffering and oppressed brothers and sisters, just as He called Moses to do. Like Simon Peter, He calls upon us to lead others to Christ not only through our words but through our actions. As Catholic Worker founder Dorothy Day said, “We cannot go to Heaven alone. Otherwise, God will say to us, ‘Where are the others?’”

Yes, these are daunting tasks indeed; but when we feel unworthy and sinful and tell God to go away, He doesn’t. And when God challenges us by asking us to leave our familiar fishing nets behind to embark upon what may seem like an impossible journey, He is with us.

For the most part, God has gotten more subtle about calling out to us since those “burning bush” and “bursting fishnet” days. Sometimes He speaks through the words and actions of our fellow Christians. Sometimes it’s in a still, small voice, a whisper amidst the noise and chaos of contemporary life. But He calls us nonetheless. He calls us in our imperfection. He calls when we least expect it. And He never forces us to comply with His wishes; rather, he “invites” us to follow Him and do His work.

In the absence of burning bushes and loud claps of thunder, and on those days when God feels far away and unknowable, sometimes we just have to make a leap of faith. Every time we fall on our knees in prayer or walk through the doors of a church, we’re making a leap of faith. The fact that we’re sitting here tonight is proof that we’re accepted God’s invitation, and that we’re open to change and transformation. As Barbara Brown Taylor writes, “It is one of the most peculiar things 21st century human beings can do, to come together week after week with no intention of being useful or productive, but only of facing an ornate wall to declare things they cannot prove about a God they cannot see.” In the same way that God works through flawed individuals, God also works through the big, sprawling, dysfunctional family that is the Church.

So tonight, as we gather here in Jesus’ name, all of us broken, all of us imperfect, all of dysfunctional in one way or another (or, in my case, dysfunctional in many ways or another), let us pray that our hearts and minds will always be open to transformation and rebirth, whether we’re at the workplace, at church or at the movies. As we sit beside one another tonight at this very first St. Andrews Contemporary Service, let us remember that God does not only seek out great men and women to do His work, but allows us to become great by doing His work. And dear Lord, please help us to remember that, when you call upon us in our insecurity and low self-esteem, all that is required of us is a willingness to cast our freshly scrubbed nets back into the water in broad daylight.

Amen.