Kerygma at First Pres

Rev. Jacob Singleton…Biblical Odyssey: Called in the Midst of Silence

Lewis and Broad

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0:00 | 16:30

Sunday Worship - FPC LaGrange - July 5th, 2026

SPEAKER_00

Our scripture lesson begins in the middle of a story, chapter four of only ten chapters. Coincidentally, it seems that we are halfway through our sermon series titled Biblical Odyssey: Epic Stories of the Faith. We've been looking at heroes and heroines of the faith by contrasting their stories and their traits to the ancient and modern hero archetype. We've been challenging the assumptions of modern culture and noting that the Bible isn't always shy. It isn't shy about telling us that these heroes or heroines are deeply flawed, that they fail by taking matters into their own hands, that they make terrible decisions, or that they themselves feel inadequate for the task at hand. In other words, Scripture tells us that they are human and highlights their humanity. But that's because I think these epic stories have less to do with the hero or heroine and are more about the God who calls them and works through them to bring about God's redemptive purposes, even with their flawed humanity, their poor choices, or their feelings of inadequacy. The epic of Esther, if you will, is the exception within our series thus far. Whereas in other stories, God's activity is unmistakable. Think of the parting of the Red Sea. And Esther, though, God's activity must be discerned. The book gets its title from the heroine of the story, and as we should come to expect, her credentials are less than favorable for her predicament. She is an orphan. She is from the least powerful member of the least powerful gender. She is a woman of a powerless people in a foreign land. But despite her low status, she ascends to royal power and eventually saves her people from death, risking her own life to win the favor of a buffoon king, and cunningly defeating the man responsible for a decree, this plot to kill the Jewish people. But Esther is one of the strangest books in Scripture. Esther's journey from a lowly orphan to the queen who saves her people is an interesting one, but it is more complex. More complex than the episode of Veggie Tales would suggest. Esther's rise to heroine status is unique among other heroes and heroines of the faith. There's no call story. There's no burning bush. There's no direct declaration from God that God will be with her and protect her. Whereas in last week's story of the spies in Rahab, there's no grand acts of God that have spread throughout the region, making Israelite enemies fearful. In fact, there's no mention of God at all. And additionally, there are no typical markers that we find in the other narratives that allude to God or God's people or God's work in the world. The familiar vocabulary is absent with no references to covenants or the temple or sacrifice. All central to the Jewish faith. Instead, the book is satire. It's full of hyperbole and exaggeration. It's full of irony and farce. It is intentionally ridiculous because the author wants to laugh at human power. The king appears powerful, but he's a fool. Haman appears unstoppable, but he hangs on his own gallows. The book seems to hide God in exactly the same way God seems to be hidden in life. In Esther, God never appears, and yet what we find are hints, mere suggestions of God's work in the story. One of the hints is in our passage, one that you are familiar with and that Pastor James frequently quotes from. When Mordecai tells Esther, for if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance will arise for the Jews from another place. Who knows? Perhaps you have come to royal dignity for just such a time as this. The hint is subtle. Relief and deliverance will rise from another place. Is Mordecai suggesting God will deliver the Jewish people in Persia even if Esther doesn't act? Perhaps. And is he suggesting that God brought her to royal dignity for just such a time as this? Perhaps. And so it is to God's silence and the subtle hints of providence within that silence that we now turn. I'm curious how many of you have ever asked God for a sign? Have you ever asked God for a sign? I remember asking God for a sign, and when I received an answer, I realized I didn't need to ask for it. I wanted certainty, but God was inviting faithfulness. I was coming to the end of my chaplain training. Wonder if I should continue on as a chaplain in a hospital or some other similar setting. Or should I go to the church and serve there? I wasn't sure what I wanted to do, and even more so, I wasn't sure what God wanted me to do. And I did not want to make the wrong decision. I wrestled with it. I lost sleep over this decision until finally God gave me an answer. The answer came by way of a conversation with my supervisor, who, when I told him of this difficult decision before me, simplified it by profoundly stating the obvious when he told me God will be in both places. I have told this story many times, and each time I do, I feel frustrated at my past ignorance. The profundity of my supervisor's statement is that it's so obvious. His wisdom so ordinary that I nearly missed it. Of course, God would be in both places. I didn't need a flashing billboard, I didn't need a burning bush, I didn't need a voice spoken from the heavens. I didn't need these things. And plus, it isn't as if God's plan for the redemption of the world depends on my choice of which branch of ministry I did or didn't choose. See, I had imagined God's will for my life as a single narrow path that I could accidentally miss. I wanted certainty. But I didn't need a sign. I needed to choose and go serve. Now, unlike Esther, my life wasn't on the line. Esther's courage to plead for her people before the king elevates her to hero status as she is willing to die for the sake of others. She says, if I perish, I perish. She's successful in her case, and the story ends with the fall of Haman, who is killed on the very gallows he is intended for Mordecai. And Mordecai, instead of being hung on the gallows, is elevated to Haman's vacant position. And Esther and Mordecai are able to save their people from destruction. That throughout the book there's no mention of God or God's direct action. I think it gives us something to ponder. My life, and perhaps yours too, often feels absurd, outlandish, darkly humorous. There have been tragedies, both personally and globally. There have been seemingly impossible technological advances. There have been the rise and the fall of political parties as history has lurched from one unexpected moment to the other. There are few signs from God as grand as the burning bush, few signs as grand as the parting sea or a thundering voice from heaven. So instead, it might feel as if God is silent. And yet the book of Esther challenges this assumption, that of God's silence. We want God's direct intervention in our lives. We want an obvious miracle, but most days we, like Esther, don't get them. So we may want to say that God is silent. But the book of Esther suggests something different. Perhaps God isn't silent. Perhaps God is subtle. Perhaps, as the book suggests, God's action isn't always obvious, but is nevertheless at work through the subtle and often ordinary events of your life and mine. God's action is in the extraordinary moments that call for courage, like an Esther risking her life before the king to save her people. But it's also in the seemingly ordinary events of life, in mundane encounters and unnoticed moments, a phone call, a visit with a friend, or in your interactions with a neighbor. Esther never receives a burning bush. No prophet comes to her to tell her, Thus says the Lord. No angel appears, no divine blueprint is given. Instead, she simply finds herself in a moment where faithfulness requires courage. So we may hear for such a time as this and imagine that if we wait long enough, a sign will appear or a hidden blueprint will finally be revealed. Esther suggests something different to us. We're not called only in extraordinary moments, but in ordinary ones into faithful action. We may never get the obvious sign, we may never be certain we're in the right place or on the right track. But faith rarely offers certainty. Esther never knows what God is doing. And yet she acts faithfully in the situation before her. Maybe that's what faith looks like. Because God's action in the world is subtle rather than spectacular. And because it is, we are freed from the nearly impossible task of achieving certainty before we act to follow Christ. Today is such a time as this. To make the difficult phone call, to visit a friend in the hospital, to invite the lonely neighbor. In ordinary moments like these, dear friends, these moments of Christ-like love and devotion, in these moments, perhaps God isn't silent at all. And the good news is we don't have to know everything that God is doing in our lives. We simply have to be faithful in the situation before us. We don't have to know everything that God is doing. We simply have to be faithful in the situation before us. Thanks be to God. Amen.