Showing posts with label Unworthy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Unworthy. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2025

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 5th 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.

 

Sunday, January 11, 2015

Worth and Love and Baptism

Sermon audio for this sermon can be found here: http://s3.amazonaws.com/dfc_attachments/public/documents/3201897/011115_Evening_Euch_1Epiph_Baptism_of_our_Lord_JC.MP3

How do you break bad news to someone? Do you just blurt it out like ripping off a Band-Aid? Is it better to gently let them know something is amiss? What is the best tactic for breaking bad news?

I ask because I have bad news for you this evening. You are not worthy. Just like me and everyone else in the world, you are not worthy. You are not worthy to stoop down and do the most disgusting thing in the world for our Lord Jesus, untying his dirty old sandal. John the Baptist knew this and confessed as much. Yet, most of the time I go around telling myself otherwise, that I am good and smart and talented, I am just like John and so are you.

Maybe this makes you upset. Perhaps this news comes at a bad time. And while, I usually do not relish giving out bad news; this type of bad news might actually not be so bad. I know what you are thinking, “I AM UNWORTHY? AND THIS IS SUPPOSED TO MAKE ME FEEL GOOD?” No, but stick with me because there is more to it than just smelly shoes and feeling less than capable.

Being unworthy is not how God makes us. He makes us good calling all of Creation very good way back at the beginning. Yet, we spend our lives making decisions individually and corporately, purposefully and unconsciously, things done and left undone that expose the separation that exists between us and God.

Way back when John the Baptizer was out in the wilderness crying, people came from all over to turn from those things that separated them from God and each other, so that they might turn back towards a life with God. While John was out in the River Jordan he caught a glimpse of an ultimate truth with which we humans often struggle. The way in which this struggle manifests itself in my life is not something of which I am particularly proud. I am powerless when it comes to letting go of controlling everything in my life. This may come as a surprise because I come off as a laid back individual, but inside my head exists a voice that wants everything to run on my schedule and when it does not I have a hard time not throwing a fit. Growing up when I would throw these tantrums my family referred to this as my “K-Mart Brat” moments. This voice has many names: false self, ego, the devil, Satan, etc. So when John discovers this truth that there is a God and he is not God the Baptizer has a chance to let go of his own sense of controlling all the things around him.

There is a God and none of us are that God. This might be a kinder way of telling you that initial bad news of the evening. Maybe that’s where I should have started. When we come to accept that we are not God something shifts in us. In today’s gospel story John the Baptist’s position changes from being unable to untie a shoe to baptizing the incarnate God. Thomas Keating expresses this Truth in another way, “The movement towards divine love is growth in humility which is the acceptance of the reality about ourselves, our own weakness and limitations.” When we trust in ourselves and believe ourselves to be God we are unworthy, yet something changes when we come to God as humble servants.

“A voice came from heaven, ‘You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.’” John Baptized with water, and the Church does too, but God uses the Holy Spirit. This baptism of the Holy Spirit does something to us. When we come to God seeking to become his children this Holy Spirit changes us from being unworthy to being beloved. The words that God spoke that day he spoke to Jesus, but God also speaks those words to us. In humility we become real, when we recognize we are not God we then have the opportunity to become who God made us to be that is good and faithful servants.

There is a prayer for peace from our Morning Prayer service that begins, “O God, the author of peace and lover of concord, to know you is eternal life and to serve you is perfect freedom.” I did not understand that prayer for the longest time. How can serving lead to freedom? Yet, John’s witness helps me to understand what Jesus bids us to do. We are not worthy, none of us, but this is actually good news. For in our sin and separation we realize the Truth that we need God to transform us. A life dedicated to God allows us to no longer be consumed with controlling our lives, but instead the perfect freedom of serving God. God transforms us from unworthy to purposeful through a baptism of the Holy Spirit, and we hear God’s voice like Jesus coming up from the baptismal waters, “You are my beloved with you I am well pleased.” Maybe being unworthy is good news after all.