Some years ago, I was on a retreat, when the retreat leader asked us all to imagine something. He asked us to imagine that, if we thought of ourselves as a part of the church building, what would we be. In a cathedral like York Minster there are plenty of things to imagine we might connect with. One person on the retreat, a church warden, said he felt like a pillar. Most of the time people saw him standing around and not doing a lot. But, as he went on to say, any engineer will tell you that every pillar is working – doing and fulfilling its purpose in keeping the building stable and supporting the roof to keep us dry. Perhaps he felt unappreciated in his role, but the group soon saw that what he did was essential, even if it wasn’t particularly glamorous.

One woman on the retreat took a long while to speak. But when she did, she spoke about not wanting the image that had come into her mind. She tried to think herself into being a window, full of colour – seen by everyone – and letting in the light. But however hard she tried, a less lovely image kept returning to her thoughts. The part of the church she identified with, was a hinge of the door. Something no one attending a church service sees, but essential in order for us to get in. Not usually a thing of beauty, but a practical necessity.

Sometimes a hinge might be connected to a beautifully wrought iron clasp – but the hinge itself is simply a fixture of hard metal, recessed into the door: Functional.  Necessary.  Hidden. As she said to the group, the only time anyone pays you any attention is when you begin to squeak. And then someone comes along with some oil to keep you quiet!

Of all the fabulous things in a beautiful church, this wasn’t the role she wanted. At least people pay attention to a pillar, if only to walk round it. But the hinge is the mechanism that helps people enter the building. It is the device that allows movement and openness – the pivot on which any of us being here relies. It’s a reminder that we all have a part to play in fulfilling the vocation we receive in baptism and discern as we begin to understand more and more what God is calling us to do – to be.  And sometimes, like Jonah (as in Jonah and the whale) we might well want to run away from whatever it is God is asking of us.

We don’t know whether John the Baptist ever a moment like that had, as he grew up and began to understand what God wanted for his life. It wouldn’t surprise me if he did, but for John going into the desert wasn’t a running away or an escape. It was the landscape in which his most important ministry would come to be fulfilled.

St Paul tells the Christians in Corinth that they are called to be saints. Being a Christian and following God’s call doesn’t always lead to glamour or popularity. Usually, it’s the opposite.

If we read about the life of any of the saints we find hardship and struggle. Finding our role in God’s purposes can be a humbling and a challenging task.

John the Baptist understood that he wasn’t the main focus of what God was doing. He knew that he was being called to prepare people for the arrival of someone else. He was the hinge, if you like, for people to turn to God and be ready for what was about to happen.

The poet RS Thomas has a lovely phrase in his poem ‘Gloria’, which points us to a God who is at work in these moments of transition:

He wrote:

Because you are not there when I turn,

But are in the turning, Gloria.

Perhaps our pride and desire for recognition would make us struggle if we found God calling us to be the hinge. But God is here too, in the hidden but essential work of drawing people into the Kingdom, whose coming we pray for at every service. Like John the Baptist we are often called to point away from ourselves, asking people to focus their attention on the ‘Lamb of God’. When John does that, the narrative leaves him behind. One moment we are standing with John and two of his disciples – the next, they have left him, followed Jesus, and the Gospel story goes with them.  And that is the sacrifice of love. To know what we are being called to do. To play our part and open the door for people to explore the wonder and beauty of God’s love.

Amen.