Three figures in the readings this week protest they are unworthy. Isaiah: “I am a man of unclean lips.” Saint Paul: “I am the least of the apostles.” Saint Peter: “Depart from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Nonetheless they are chosen to witness God’s glory and advance God’s mission. Whoever you are, however unworthy you may feel, God has something important for you to do. What is it?

The past can be a poison pill, a capsule of regret: for what we did, for what we failed to do. We should have taken that job. We should have fought harder for that relationship. When we dwell on yesterday, we revive old injuries and refresh old anger. My parents never supported me. The system was against people like me.

Once when Jesus was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd.

There are times we complain that cell phones are controlling our lives and how we would just like to get rid of them. Yet if they control us, it’s because we let them. We decide who we are going to call. And we can turn them off if we desire to do so. On the positive side, they keep parents connected with children, make us feel a little safer driving through the snow at night, let us check on a shut-in, and so much more that we now take for granted.

As we celebrate the saving mysteries of your faith, we ask God to strengthen and heal us.

“It is written.” The readings this week say: God does it. Isaiah got to see God—and live—and received his call directly from the heavenly court. Jesus himself appeared to the last person to whom you would have expected: his ugly ex-persecutor Paul. Peter, along with the other two of the “Big Three” apostles, accepted their mission straight from Christ.

Don’t worry when you are not recognized, but strive to be worthy of recognition. —Abraham Lincoln