"Living in Authenticity" | VJ Sathyaraj | February 2, 2025

The call of Jeremiah invites us to consider what we are called to do in this moment—in our personal and collective lives as the body of Christ. We live exposed each day to the contours of human suffering of various kinds, some personal and others that involve groups united by tragedy or monumental injustice.

What might be the shape of our individual responses, based on what we are called to do? How does Almighty God communicate to individuals a sense of calling that goes far beyond choosing a profession—that can lead to the certain knowledge of having a mission in life? Recognizing that we are called to be instruments of God's work in the world is transformational and fulfilling, whatever our historical circumstances may be.

This is the message of Jeremiah: that there is only one God, and one of the ways in which God speaks may be in the form of the still, small voice—one that enters our consciousness through our thoughts, perhaps at a time when justice is sorely needed.

The false prophets were infuriated by Jeremiah's message and sought to kill him because he said, "The prophets are prophesying lies in my name. I did not send them, nor did I command them to speak. They are prophesying to you a lying vision, a worthless divination, and the deceit of their own minds."

On this beautiful, snowless morning, in the presence of all these young choristers in our cathedral, we are reminded of God’s purpose in our lives. Even at this young age, these young people are committed to hard work, and their individual voices together create a harmonious and glorious whole—one that elevates us and our experience of God's presence.

I'm sure that many of our young singers are also instrumentalists, and what we call their talent is really evidence of their response to a calling. But we also know that music is not everybody’s calling—and I’m pretty sure that we have a vast number of failed pianists in our congregation today.

Our parents may know something about our calling. Pablo Picasso told the story of his mother saying to him, when he was a young boy, that if he joined the church, he would surely become the pope, or that if he joined the military, he would end up as the commanding general. But Picasso said, "I chose art, and I became Picasso."

Mahatma Gandhi, whose 77th death anniversary occurred on the 30th of January, provides a powerful example of a person called by God to serve. His inspiration came from what he called his "inner voice." He gave up his legal career to develop his spiritual practice, and it was a side effect of that practice that became his political anti-colonial work.

Gandhi reminds us that if we want to change society, change politics, or change the world, we must begin with ourselves and a commitment to living out God's truth. The beginnings of this came to him when he was a law student in London. He tried desperately to fit in—he got the right clothes, he tried to take violin and dance lessons—and failed at all of them. Eventually, after a long walk, he decided that he was not going to be somebody other than who he was.

So he began a process of living his life in utter authenticity—so much so that, as the years passed, he changed the way he dressed and the way he ate to identify with the poorest people he knew.

His solution to violence, repression, and the slaughter of innocent lives was to pray—yes, to pray with other people, whatever their faith tradition may have been. Thus, he was able to thwart brute force with nonviolence. He formulated a philosophy of "satyagraha," which means "holding on to the truth"—because God is truth, and everything stems from this realization.

In contrast to inventing programs, setting goals, and developing strategies to address the problems we see around us, Gandhi suggests that we might begin with prayer. In order to not fail in this process of transforming society, we must be grounded in prayer.

To commemorate Gandhi's birth and death days, it used to be the case that, on those two occasions, religious leaders would gather with elected officials in every city and town—each reading from their scriptures and praying together as a way to move the country forward. Unfortunately, this practice has now been abandoned, and fomenting conflict based on religious difference is the order of the day.

Our readings today provide examples of the ways in which God calls us to particular ministry and helps us recognize that we are all the recipients of undeserved grace. Jeremiah describes the experience of God's call: a young person, chosen to deliver a message that would lead him into deep trouble with those he dared to criticize.

How did Almighty God communicate with Jeremiah? Through the medium of his own thinking. This is how he understood God's call. God intervenes in the world through individuals. God does not choose large-scale, cosmic interventions to set right a sinful world, and the people he chooses are always an odd choice—not the naturally talented people we would expect.

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you. And before you were born, I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations," Jeremiah is told.

And we have to imagine a 13-year-old boy, shaking with fear as he comes to this realization, saying, "I am only a boy." And then, he feels empowered: "The Lord put out his hand and touched my mouth, and the Lord said to me, 'I appoint you over nations and over kingdoms—to pluck up and pull down, to destroy and to overthrow, to build and to plant.'”

Here is God's mission for Jeremiah—and for all of us—to stand against the world's evil and to stand for God's goodness in ways that God makes available to us.

We remember the dramatic call of Moses, who was, for all practical purposes, an Egyptian. We remember the prophet Samuel—both key figures in the history of Israel.

To respond to God's call is hard work, and Jesus reminds us that this work is not easy. "No prophet is accepted in his own country."

God's work takes place in our lives, not on the world stage. It is selective, not widespread—a widow chosen from among numerous other widows, a man chosen for healing among many afflicted with the same disease. The work of God has to be small enough to match our limited scope and capabilities.

We are called, but we must recognize that we are called. And we remind ourselves that God chooses the unexpected to be his servants:

A 75-year-old man, Abraham, is called to father a new nation. The deceitful Jacob is the one who receives his father's blessing. The 11th and hated son, Joseph, saves his extended family from starvation because he rises to become what we might now call the Secretary of Agriculture in the Egyptian government.

And so it goes.

The manner of God's calling can range from the barely recognizable—such as through one’s own thinking—to miraculous interventions that test our belief, such as dramatic healings or receiving exactly what we need when we are in dire circumstances.

"Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you, and before you were born, I consecrated you."

And so, in our world of uncertainty—where each day seems to bring more bad news—we need to focus on the Good News of the Gospel.

May our continuing discernment for our lives be grounded in prayer, in gratitude for grace received, and in faithfulness to our calling—but always in love.

"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs..."