From Imposter to Image Bearer

Do you have imposter syndrome? If so, read this!

Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13]

1 Corinthians 15:1-11

Luke 5:1-11

Psalm 138

©2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

This sermon was inspired by the above readings and was preached on the 5^th Sunday after the Epiphany at the Episcopal Church of the Holy Apostles in Hoover, AL. A video of the sermon may be found here.

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

It seems to be a common thread among those called by God—this immediate reaction of unworthiness. We see it in Isaiah’s vision:

“Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips!” (Isaiah 6:5)

We see it in Peter, falling at Jesus' feet after the miraculous catch of fish:

“Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8)

And we hear it in Paul’s letter to the Corinthians, when he recalls his past as a persecutor of the church and proclaims:

“I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle.” (1 Corinthians 15:9)

This pattern repeats in Scripture because it is deeply human. When faced with God's call, our first instinct is often to step back, to disqualify ourselves, to name all the reasons why we aren't good enough.

But God does not call the qualified—God qualifies the called.

This Sunday, as we commission our Vestry, I imagine some of them may feel a bit like Isaiah or Peter or Paul—wondering, Who am I to take on this role? Am I truly equipped? Perhaps you have felt this in your own life: stepping into a leadership role, being entrusted with responsibility, or even simply being recognized for your gifts.

Our world today is filled with a particular kind of false humility—this idea that we must downplay our gifts, shrink ourselves, and live in a constant state of self-doubt, lest we be seen as arrogant or self-important. But that is not what God wants for us.

I recently viewed a powerful interview with Ilona Maher, U.S. Olympic rugby player and Season 33 of Dancing With the Stars’ Runner Up. In it she was asked about imposter syndrome—that feeling like we do not belong or aren’t good enough.

When asked about having imposter syndrome, Maher replied: “I do not have imposter syndrome, because I am not an imposter. I have worked hard. I have dedicated myself to my craft. I belong here.”

That boldness struck me. It short-circuited my normal way of thinking. And, it convicted me—because, if I'm honest, I often feel like an imposter. I mean I have the audacity to serve as a representative of God. Yea, I can feel like a phony at times and maybe you do too. But instead of berating myself for it, I recently remembered words from a college friend, Cane West, who once said:

“When we are following our calling, we aren’t being selfish or selfless. We are being self-full. We are fulfilling what our truest selves are meant to be.”

Isn’t that what God wants from us? To live into our truest selves, not lying about our worth, but stepping fully into it—because we are the Imago Dei, God’s image-bearers. Yes, it’s true, as hard as it may be to believe. Each of us is made in God’s image, and the beauty of creation is seen in the diversity of human beings, in our differentness. Thanks be to God we are not all the same on this planet or in this parish. Still, we can get caught up in trying to fit in with everyone else that we neglect the gorgeous idiosyncrasies and nuances God imparted within us. 

In college I fell prey to this. I started acting exactly like my best friend Will. One day he sat me down to have a serious conversation. He told me, “Seth, the world already has a Will. It needs you to be you. The world needs you to be the truest Seth you can be.” I think God was speaking through my friend.

If we are to follow God’s call—to not shrink back, to not disqualify ourselves, to not live in imposter syndrome—then we must practice something that, for many of us, does not come easily: self-love.

Not vanity. Not pride. But a deep, honest, humble recognition that we are made uniquely in the image of God.

How do we practice that? How do we reframe our thinking so that, like Ilona Maher, we can say, I belong here? Here are three ways (and I know there are more):

1.    By remembering that our worth is given by God, not earned. Before Isaiah was cleansed by the burning coal, before Peter left his nets, before Paul became the great apostle to the Gentiles, God had already chosen them. God had already loved them. The same is true for you. God has chosen you to be here on this earth at this time. God has already loved you into being. That’s why you’re here.

2.    By surrounding ourselves with a community that lifts us up. This is where the church matters. If we are left to our own devices, many of us will always find reasons to doubt ourselves. Y’all might think, I’m naturally joyful and confident, but those were gifts instilled in me by the good people of St. Andrew’s Episcopal Church. Sallie Lowe, Pat Nakamura, Susan Leborg, John Wiley, Louise Cecil and many others saw gifts in me that I could not. It is in Christian community that we remind one another of the divine spark within us. We see Christ in each other. So, when you see Christ in your neighbor for goodness sake, tell them! 

3.    By trusting that God’s call does not require perfection. Peter was not perfect. Neither was Isaiah. Neither was Paul. Neither am I. Neither are you. But God’s call comes anyway—and with it, God’s grace. Isn’t that really, really good news? You don’t have to be perfect, as if that is a thing—that’s a man-made trap! Christ Jesus is the one who fulfills all in all. We share in the work, but we are not after perfection—merely progress as we continue to spread the Good News of God’s love for all.

So, what does all this mean for us as a church body?

If we believe that God calls the unworthy and makes them worthy, then we have a responsibility to help each other live into that calling.

This means:

• Encouraging one another when we feel inadequate.
• Reminding one another of our God-given worth.
• Helping each other discern what God is asking of us.

This is particularly important today as we commission our Vestry. These leaders have said “yes” to serving Holy Apostles. They will soon be commissioned to govern the temporal matters of this church, but they do not serve alone. They need all of us—our prayers, our support, our shared work in Christ’s mission. So, when they ask you to serve, if you are able, I hope you will say, “Yes, I will with God’s help.”

At the end of today’s passage from Isaiah, after his moment of doubt and unworthiness, God asks a question that echoes through the centuries and now falls upon the ears of our hearts:

“Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?”

And Isaiah responds,

“Here am I; send me!”

Peter, too, despite his hesitation, leaves everything and follows Jesus. Paul, even with his violent past, proclaims the gospel with boldness.

What would it look like if we, too, responded to God’s call with a yes—not in self-doubt, not in false humility, but in faith?

Because God is calling you.

Not the perfect version of you. Not the version of you who has it all figured out. You—just as you are, right now. And who you are right now, my friends, is more than enough.

Amen.

 

Answer Readily the Call

In today's Collect we prayed for the grace to "answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation"—and I wonder, are you going to accept God's call?

 

 

Nehemiah 8:1-3, 5-6, 8-10

Psalm 19

1 Corinthians 12:12-31a

Luke 4:14-21

 

© 2025 The Rev. Seth Olson

 

Holy God, may my words be your words and when my words are not your words, may your people be wise enough to know the same. Amen.

 

I’ll never forget a particularly challenging cross-country race I ran in college. It was early in my senior season, and on a hot, dusty course early on a September Saturday, the air was thick with anticipation as runners gathered at the starting line. I remember glancing around, tempted to compare myself to the others, wondering if I had trained enough, if I was ready for what lay ahead. When the race began, it didn’t take long for the physical and mental barriers to emerge—the burning lungs, the aching legs, the painful side stitch, and the voice in my head that said, “You can’t do this.” For much of the race, I suffered. Eventually though, I remembered the training, the rhythm, and the encouragement of my coach: “Control the controllables. Focus on your next step. Run your race not someone else’s.” That ended up being my worst race of the season. The poor performance stemmed from focusing on beating the competition instead of running the race set before me with perseverance.

 

In many ways, the life of faith is like that race. It requires discipline, resilience, and a willingness to face challenges head-on. And just as my coach’s voice reminded me to focus on what truly mattered and what I have control over, Jesus’ proclamation in today’s Gospel lesson centers us in work that truly matters and something we have control over. Let’s take a closer look.

 

After being baptized and tested in the wilderness, Jesus returned to Galilee, filled with the power of the Spirit, and began teaching in synagogues. When he arrived in Nazareth, his hometown, he unfurled the scroll of Isaiah and read these words:

 

“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovery of sight to the blind, to let the oppressed go free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

 

And then, Jesus declared, “Today this scripture has been fulfilled in your hearing.” With these words, Jesus set the agenda for his ministry and for the work of the Kingdom of God. Good news to the poor, release to the captives, and sight to the blind were not abstract ideals or lofty aspirations; they were concrete markers of the mission we share with Christ—the daily bread meant to sustain us as we walk with him.

 

One of the ways we are guided into this work, one of the ways we know what direction to travel is through prayer. What I mean by prayer is a conversation with God when we both speak and more importantly listen to what God is saying. In our Collect this morning (that’s the prayer read right before the readings that collects all the themes from this Season in the Church Year and the readings for today), in that collect, we prayed for grace to “answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation.” What does it mean to answer that call? 

 

First, it means recognizing that Jesus’ mission is our mission. It is our work to bring good news to the poor, to proclaim release to captives, to help the blind recover sight, to free the oppressed, and to declare the year of the Lord’s favor. These are not optional parts of our faith—they are its very essence.

 

Here at Holy Apostles, we already live into this call in many ways. We bring good news to the poor when we support Episcopal Place, pack food for hungry students at Trace Crossings, and distribute coats through the Grace Woodlawn Food Pantry. We proclaim release to captives when we participate in Kairos Prison Ministries and support ministries of reconciliation and healing like hosting a Narcotics Anonymous group here. And we strive to help others see—not just with their eyes but with their hearts. This kind of inner sight—the ability to recognize our own blind spots, faults, and gifts—is where our transformation begins.

 

Of course, this work is not easy. Following Jesus inevitably brought those early disciples face to face with challenges, resistance, and roadblocks. They all gave their lives to the Way of Christ. Some were martyrs who died horrible deaths because of their faith, and some were martyrs who gave their entire lives to Jesus (even if they died peaceably). Often these faith conflicts happened because of what I was doing at the beginning of that cross-country race, we fall into competitiveness like how I was fixated on what everyone else was doing. We do the same in our lives, even when it comes to our faith or spirituality.

 

In our divided world, it is tempting to retreat into our corners, to draw lines of division between “us” and “them.” We get so attached to this way of thinking that we turn church into a competition. But Jesus called his followers to resist this way of being. His mission was for everyone—friend and stranger, neighbor and enemy alike. Perhaps you have seen this cartoon, which illustrates well this point. On a vast white canvas people are busy drawing lines to box themselves in and others out. Jesus at the same time is using his eraser to make those lines vanish.[1] Every time we draw a line of exclusion, Jesus is at work erasing it, breaking down barriers, and inviting us to join him in this holy work. The question is, will we?

 

We live in a time when our foundational Christian virtues of love, mercy, and forgiveness feel under attack—from political firestorms and the rise of Christian Nationalism, which often seeks to weaponize our faith for worldly power. It is easy to feel overwhelmed, even disheartened. We might wonder where is God and how can we find God? And, in such times I am reminded of a favorite story from Holy Scripture, which involved Elijah. 

This paramount prophet went out in search for the Divine One. At first, he sought God in the exciting—flame, flood, or force, but God was not found there (I’m sure God was there, but Elijah couldn’t behold God there). He found God not in the wind, nor the earthquake, nor the fire, but in the sheer silence that followed (1 Kings 19). It is in that stillness that we can reconnect with God, find our grounding, and get reminded that the Spirit of the Lord dwells in all—friend, stranger, unlikely neighbor, and even ones we perceive to be our enemies.

 

For me in that silence, I discover that as much as I might want to point my finger and criticize others, Jesus continually turns me back to God. That’s what Jesus does with his followers, he turns them back to their own hearts and actions. This is what he wants for all of us—to turn back to God by acknowledging where we are out of step with the Kingdom’s goals.

 

We know this to be true not just from this story, but from other examples throughout Scripture. Most notably, before we can help others remove the specks from their eyes, we must confront the planks in our own. This is hard, humbling work, but it is also the work that brings freedom and transformation—not just for ourselves, but also for the world God loves. If we want joy, mercy, and love in the world, we must first cultivate it within ourselves and within this community.

 

Answering the call of Jesus begins with asking for this kind of sight—the challenging vision, which allows us to see our own shortcomings, the courage to confront them, and the grace to change them with God’s help. While Jesus was always with his followers in this work, and God's grace requires no prerequisite condition, it is only when we do our own work of untangling ourselves from sinfulness, idolatry, and evil that we can join Jesus in his mission of healing, liberation, and reconciliation. Peace as they say, starts at home. So does healing, liberation, and reconciliation!

 

This week ahead, I invite you to reflect on how you are being called to proclaim good news and participate in God’s mission. Where do you see opportunities to bring healing and hope? How can you work to release captives, feed the hungry, or build bridges across divides? What blind spots in your own life might God be inviting you to address?

 

The Spirit of the Lord is indeed upon us. We are anointed to do this work, not in isolation but together, as the Body of Christ. As we follow Jesus in this shared mission, may we find the grace to answer his call readily and to proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation. And all the while, may we remember that this Good News is not just for “us,” nor is it only for “them”—it is for all of us, together. Amen.

 

---

[1] Hayward, David. “Eraser Digital Cartoon” from The Naked Pastor website [https://nakedpastor.com/products/eraser, accessed January 26, 2025]. 

Road Trip!

Photo courtesy of http://bit.ly/1wSwpFQ

Audio for this sermon can be found here.

Have you ever been on a road trip… with someone that you just met? Not someone you have been friends with for a year or two, or even a couple of months. I mean, have you ever been on a road trip with someone that you JUST met? I have not even come close to this, and what is worse, I cannot even imagine doing this, as I am the type of person who brings with me everything and the kitchen sink when I travel. Although I was not a boy scout, I live by their motto: “Be prepared.”

The gospel lesson for today seems to fly in the face of this motto, as it is in essence the beginning of a spontaneous road trip. Last week we heard the story of Jesus calling Simon, Andrew, James, and John, and this week’s tale follows immediately after the fishers becoming fishers of men. I like to think about how four fishermen would have gotten along traveling with the Son of God. Talk about a great reality TV show! Did James and John get into some sibling rivalries, like later when they would fight over who gets to sit at Jesus’ right hand? Did Andrew ever get tired of Simon seeking to be Jesus’ pet? What did Jesus make of these dirty, smelly fishermen? If there were any fireworks early on during the journey we do not get a whiff of them. Instead, we hear that this group of men made their first stop on the northwest corner of the Sea of Galilee at a synagogue meeting. What happens there indicates to us that this will be unlike any journey that these fishermen (or anyone else for that matter) have ever been on before.

At the synagogue meeting Jesus begins teaching, but his words strike directly to the heart of those who are listening. The religious leaders who typically gave teachings at the synagogue, the scribes, seemed lacking in light of Jesus. Those who heard Jesus were astounded at his teaching. The one attribute that stands out about Jesus’ teaching Mark highlights writing, “For he taught them as one having authority.”

All of a sudden a man comes into the synagogue meeting, a man who was possessed by demonic forces. The gang of demons within cannot keep quiet immediately yelling at Jesus, “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” What must the disciples have been thinking? “I left my job for this? A religious meeting with this crazy guy bursting onto the scene!” Yet it is here that the demon correctly identifies Jesus, “I know who you are, the Holy One of God.” The disciples were not present at Jesus’ baptism, so they did not hear God’s voice from on high, they just left everything and followed Jesus.

At the beginning of Mark’s gospel we did hear God’s words at to Jesus, “You are my Son, the beloved, with you I am well pleased." Remembering Christ's baptism illuminates the irony of this encounter with the unclean spirit. The Son of God consumed by the Spirit of God comes face-to-face with a man occupied by a spirit of Demons. Jesus wasted no time in arguing with the demons, as he rebuked the unclean spirit. Yet, the word for rebuke might come off too weak. This was not a verbal slap on the wrist, but was all encompassing and thorough conquering. Like elsewhere in the Old Testament where God defeated the forces of Satan, Jesus again puts down an enemy of God. Certainly we can feel good for this man possessed by demons, he’s been saved, but in this moment Jesus’ healing is not just about getting better. Something new happened when the man filled with God’s Spirit came in contact with the man full of demons.

We can be so focused on the exorcism in this scene that we completely missed the words that the demon possessed man uttered. “What have you to do with us, Jesus of Nazareth? Have you come to destroy us?” Maybe this is the demons fighting for their place, but I believe something else is going on when Jesus says, “Be silent and come out of him!” To teach with authority would have certainly “astounded” the disciples, but the convulsing man and the spirits crying as they fled would have shown the disciples that they were not just following an inspiring teacher.

Something brand new happened in the middle of this synagogue meeting. Jesus calls out the status quo. All that was stale or old or counter to God’s work consumed that demon possessed man. In the course of one profound statement Jesus calls out this tendency to just hang onto the status quo: Be silent and come out of him. This was the roadmap that this spiritual road trip was to follow: Inspiring teaching was to be proclaimed, healing was to happen, and the forces that ran contrary to God’s blossoming Kingdom were to be defeated! And the good news for us is that the journey that Jesus began with the disciples he continues with us.

All of us can be bound up by something that runs against God’s grain. We can all be possessed. Perhaps not by demons like this man, but we can be consumed by material possessions (the things we own, own us too!), addictions, obsessions, lies, guilt, shame, and all of those things that deny the will of God.

The words Jesus spoke to cast out the demons cut to our core as well: “Be silent and come out!” The consuming forces were no longer to speak. How many times do we make excuses for those things that keep us from a deepening relationship with God? I will stop and help the stranger in need some other day, I will pray with God next week, I will read my Bible when I have time, I will give more to God’s work in the world when I have more to give… Our demons may not look like stumbling into a church shouting at the preacher, but that does not mean they do not exist.

Christ began a journey with a ragtag group of fishers long ago, but He yearns to walk with us too. Jesus wants to unbind us from all that consumes us. Our Savior silences all our distractions, so that He can cast down all those obstacles, and show us clearly that we are no longer bound by any enemies of God. Instead we are called not just to be part of a church but to follow Christ on this expedition that brings fully to life God’s life-giving, world-transforming, love-filled Kingdom. Drop everything because Jesus wants to go on a road trip with you!

Ordination Day Reflection: I Am A Man Of Unclean Lips, Yet God Calls Me

The historical prophet Isaiah had a vision in the Temple. The Lord was sitting high and lofty on a throne, the hem of the Lord's robe filled the entire space, the pivots shook, the house filled with smoke, and seraphs with six wings floated around singing to one another, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
the whole earth is full of his glory."

To be certain, I have never seen quite a sight as this. In yesterday's post I described a very holy moment in my life in which I finally felt God's call to the priesthood reverberating within me. Others had heard it in me earlier in my life, but it took a profound moment for me to let God's bidding sink deep into my soul. When Isaiah experienced the overwhelming presence of God in the Temple his response focused at first upon his inadequacy, as he spoke, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips!"

At first, when I heard God's call spoken by others I felt the same way as Isaiah. Within me there is sin and separation. Sometimes I feel disconnected from my neighbor and from God. Often I focus on my needs and not the concerns of those around me. Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips. Yet, there is more to what Isaiah says and I think more to a call from God than our inadequacies.

Even in his unclean state, Isaiah says, "My eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!" Yet, God does something to relinquish this feeling in Isaiah of uncleanliness. Isaiah openly admits his state, "I am a man of unclean lips." His sinful nature is located within his mouth and the way in which he is cleansed is through a fiery coal delivered by a messenger of God to precisely where his separation is housed. By his mouth he sins, and by his mouth he is cleansed. Once the sin departs, Isaiah is able to hear the Lord saying, "Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?" With his once sinful lips and tongue, Isaiah responds to God, "Here I am, send me."

This is a great reminder for me on my ordination day, and it is a wonderful call for all of us, as we serve God. God comes to us in tremendous fashion, sometimes in an overwhelming manner with flowing hems, earthquake, and coal bearing seraphs. Other times the coming of God is in the stillness or in our darkness. We may believe that we are not worthy to serve with God, I am often guilty of this, yet God is always seeking to reconcile us to Godself. Most clearly we see this in the Incarnation of God within the person of Jesus of Nazareth. In his coming, his ministry, his death, his Resurrection, and his Ascension we are, like with the seraphs from Isaiah, relinquished from our separation and fitted for ministry with God. All we can do, and all I want to do today is to respond, "Here I am, send me."

What call would immediately change your life? Matthew 4:18-25

Simon and Andrew, James and John have been doing the same work their entire lives. Rising early in the morning, they spend long hours in the scorching heat without cover out on the waters of the Sea of Galilee. Their hands are severely callused, their arms and shoulders routinely sore, and their backs extremely tight from hauling in fish, that is when they have been fortunate enough to catch them. Zebedee, James’ and John’s father sits in the boat, a constant fatherly presence and a reminder of the one who taught them not only how to fish, but how to live. From the time they were boys Zebedee brought them out upon the water not just as sons, but also as apprentices. These brothers live off of what they catch, and not just them, but their entire families. Before they caught their livelihood in the Sea of Galilee their fathers and uncles did, and their fathers and uncles before them. This is the family business. This is their life. They are fishermen.

Every day possesses the same routine: rise early, cast out over and over again, hopefully haul in fish, then return home sore and tired. Then, one day a stranger walks onto the shore where the brothers cast off to make their catch. He simply utters an invitation, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." The men, without hesitation, lay down the family business, their livelihoods, their life’s work at the request of passerby. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” 

Wait, what?! Are you serious Matthew?! That’s it?! No further explanation. No more detail, then that they laid down their nets and followed him. We hear this quaint story about fishing for people so many times that it becomes easy to overlook. Simon, Andrew, and the two Zebedee boys leave the work that provides them with food, shelter, and an opportunity to continue living, so that they can follow an itinerant preacher and healer. Fishing may be a smelly, sweaty, back-aching job, but it’s a way to make a living, it is a way of providing for one’s family, it is a way to survive.  

What was Zebedee thinking of his two sons James and John as they put down their nets? He might have thought, “I raised you to be fishermen. Now you want to go and follow this homeless stranger! You are going to throw away your life.” Later in Matthew, Jesus will say, “If you want to save your life you will destroy it.” We all know this saying, but still how many of us could even fathom giving up the power and control we have to make money, to make a living, to provide for our families? This is radical what these brothers are doing on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. They are leaving everything they have so that they can follow Jesus. Is there anything in this world that would make you leave your means for security and survival? Or put another way, what call would immediately change your life? 

I can tell you the precise geographic location (All Saints’ Chapel Sewanee, Tennessee) and specific date in history (Saturday, March 22, 2008) when I clearly heard Jesus’ call “Come, Follow me.” The two years before this day had been a struggle. I had fought with God trying to believe that he did not exist, but every time I turned my back on God, he was there. Finally I relented, and so on this night, the night of the Easter Vigil, I had reaffirmed my baptismal vows. I was serving as a chalice bearer, and the first person who extended his hands to receive the chalice was my childhood priest. As our eyes met, we shared a moment of communion. Then, I lifted back the silver chalice to reveal that the reflection in the cup made it appear as though all those gathered around the altar were making up the chalice. We, gathered together, are the Chalice, the Blood and Body of Christ. I knew then, that my call was to serve within that Body and to continue to hold up those sacraments as signs of God’s grace in this world. Before that moment I knew God existed, I knew I loved God, but I was not following him like Simon, Andrew, James, and John. God is calling each of us to immediately drop our nets and follow him. Maybe it’s not so dramatic as what I just described or what the Galilean brothers did, yet we are all ordained through our baptism and we are all called to be ministers in God’s Church.

This week we have spent a good bit of time at St. John’s exploring our congregational call to ministry through the envisioning process. We are learning one sheet of paper at a time, who we are as a community, for what we are thankful, what we yearn for as a church, and what ministries we are craving. As we continue to listen, I encourage us to listen to Jesus’ simple invitation, “Come follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” Amen.