How beautiful upon the mountains
are the feet of him who brings good tidings,
who publishes peace,
who brings good tidings of good,
who publishes salvation,
who says to Zion, "Your God reigns."
Hark, your watchmen lift up their voice,
together they sing for joy;
for eye to eye they see
the return of the LORD to Zion.
Break forth together into singing,
you waste places of Jerusalem;
for the LORD has comforted his people,
he has redeemed Jerusalem.
The LORD has bared his holy arm
before the eyes of all the nations;
and all the ends of the earth shall see
the salvation of our God.
Isaiah 52:7–10 (RSV)
A blinking cursor on a word processor page has replaced the blank sheet of paper in a typewriter. It can be a window that one opens, allowing the flow of words to reach beyond itself to bless those who read or hear.
It can be a brick wall impervious to every effort to complete a sentence. It sits there blinking in silent mockery of the heart and soul, seeking to write what will be received as a mercy from God.
St. Paul wrote these words to the Corinthian Christians: 'For if I preach the gospel, that gives me no ground for boasting. For necessity is laid upon me. Woe to me if I do not preach the gospel!' 1 Corinthians 9:16 (RSV)
We who have been called to the ministry of Word and Sacrament have to preach the Gospel. Preaching is more than meeting the expectation of the congregation. Yes, a pastor is called to preach God's Word. It is much more than fulfilling a contractual obligation. We must preach! If our hearts beat in our chest and air fills our lungs, we must preach.
Jeremiah wrote that when he tried to refuse to proclaim God's Word, it was like a fire in his bones. He could not be silent:
If I say, "I will not mention him,
or speak any more in his name,"
there is in my heart as it were a burning fire
shut up in my bones,
and I am weary with holding it in,
and I cannot. Jeremiah 20:9 (RSV)
Last night I stared at the mocking cursor as the words I wanted to write were a faint echo of the beauty of Isaiah's words. It felt like adding notes to a Bach symphony or brush strokes to the Sistine Chapel ceiling. It would have only detracted from the glory already present.
And here I am, writing tonight because my heart is beating, and I am breathing. The Word of God must be proclaimed. I am reminded that I need not be an Isaiah or a St. Paul. I need not attempt to rival David's psalms for beauty. I must preach.
As I reminded my last intern, Heidi Happel, we pastors don't matter much compared to the Word. We preach the Gospel, and folk see Jesus through our words, then we have done what the Lord has asked of us.
The Holy Spirit will infuse our poor words with the mercy and grace of the Father. Longing hearts will hear of the salvation of God through Christ. It will have been enough that we did what we are called to do, to preach Jesus.