January 27, 2008
3 Epiphany, Matthew 4:12-23
Each Monday morning John and Carolyn and I try to have some sort of a staff meeting – it’s a time to talk about what is coming up and what sorts of things we need to start planning for. We’ve been starting our meetings with a short Bible study of whatever passage the preacher for the following Sunday wants to read. We’ll read it out loud and then talk about what we think. Sometimes we get diverted and start talking about church business, but often we have really interesting discussions that, at least for me, can be pretty helpful in preparing my sermon.
Well, two weeks ago, it was John’s turn to pick the passage because he was preaching the next Sunday, but I had just been to this new priests’ training where we’d done what is called the African Bible Study method. It’s a way of doing group bible study that involves reading a passage out loud three times. First, you read it and each person shares a word or phrase that stands out for them. Then, you read it aloud again, and share what God is saying to you in this passage. Then you read it a third time and share what action God is calling you to. I’d found the method really fruitful at my training, so I suggested to Carolyn and John that we try it. They probably groaned because I’m always coming up with something new and crazy. But they agreed.
So I read the gospel out loud the first time and then we each shared something that stood out for us. Then John read it out loud. And I asked, “How is God speaking to you in this passage?” Which quickly led us away from talking about the passage and into a discussion about whether God speaks to us through the Bible at all.
I hadn’t read ahead at that point, but my answer to the question of whether God speaks to me through the Bible is an emphatic YES and our gospel reading for today is probably my most significant personal example of that. This crazy, wonderful story about Andrew and Simon, and James and John, who get up and leave everything they know to follow this itinerant preacher, Jesus. “Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” “Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.” “Immediately.”
Our lectionary runs in a three year cycle, so every three years we hear pretty much these identical readings. And so the first time I really experienced this story was exactly six years ago today in a pew at St. Paul’s Church in Old Town. I don’t remember anything else about the service, and couldn’t tell you much about the sermon. All I remember is that word “immediately” and the idea of those two pairs of brothers leaving their families and livelihoods to follow this strange teacher Jesus.
The story made me feel incredibly uncomfortable – guilty even – because I am not someone who is good at making decisions quickly. There aren’t too many things that I do “immediately.” I try to get the clothes from the washing machine to the dryer immediately so that I can avoid ironing. And if I hear a loud bang and then wailing, I’ll go pretty immediately to check on the children. Or, in Dylan’s case, if I hear the toilet seat bang and then splashing. Certainly if blood were gushing from someone I’d try to act immediately. But big major life decisions? Unlikely! Leaving family, striking out with no means of support – no way! I can’t imagine doing what these disciples did in our story this morning – suddenly leaving everything they know to follow something they haven’t even properly researched; haven’t weighed the pros and cons for; haven’t consulted with knowledgeable people about.
And for some reason, that moment six years ago was when I knew that it was time for me to stop waffling about my idea of becoming a priest. That story was just the kick in the pants I needed to take the first step, and then the rest actually fell pretty easily and painlessly into place. Unlike those four disciples whose “immediate” action led to hardship and toil and heartbreak and death, my not-so-immediate action actually led me to a relatively safe and easy place. The seminary was close by, I now had an unassailable excuse to quit the job that I detested, I got to go back to school and study something that fascinated me, and now here I am in a job I love with you wonderful people!
So my gratitude toward this passage, and my awe of those four disciples stepping out so courageously in faith to take on something so unknown and difficult without any pause at all – not at all my forte – has stuck with me ever since.
And so when I started preparing for today’s sermon by hunkering down with this passage again, I expected that I’d have the same experience as last time. That once again the “immediate” action of those fearless disciples would inspire me to move a little quicker on some small part of my faith journey. But God, as it turns out, is not quite so predictable. And so instead of feeling inspired by the disciples this time around, I began imagining other outcomes to their story. What if when Jesus walked by that day and said “Follow me” they’d responded in a different way? Maybe something like, “Thanks but no thanks,” or “How about later when my kids are grown up and I’ve saved enough money to feel comfortable,” or “Let me think about it for a while and make a list of plusses and minuses,” or even, “Let me go say goodbye to everyone and get things in order and pack my bags and then I’ll come.” What if they had been more like the rich young man who comes a little later in Matthew’s gospel? The guy who follows all the commandments but can’t quite bring himself to give all his possessions to the poor and follow Jesus. The guy who looks a lot like the person I see in the mirror. What would have happened then? Would Jesus have given the disciples another chance later? Or would they have been separated out, like the chaff from the wheat?
Because Matthew’s gospel story gives the impression that this was a depiction of these disciples’ very first interaction with Jesus. That they were just sitting there in their boat, simple fisherfolk, minding their own business, and this perfect stranger walked by and without any introduction said “Follow me” and they did, giving no thought at all to their families and friends left behind. And while that obedience and simplicity was inspiring to me 6 years ago, this time around it made me feel like Jesus’s expectations were way too high and the disciples were not people I could relate to in the slightest.
So reading what the other three Gospel writers had to say about the calling of these disciples was like reading the end of one of Paul Harvey’s The Rest of the Story books.
Mark’s version is the closest to our story from Matthew. With one small, and at least for me, very important exception. Mark makes a point of including that James and John “leave their father with the hired men in the boat.” They don’t just run off and leave their families destitute. The people that they love and that depend on them will be taken care of. Like I said, it’s a small difference, but it makes the story just a little more humane.
Luke’s gospel includes a similar story of Jesus calling Simon, James and John while they are fishing. However, in Luke, Jesus performs a miracle for them first. After fishing all night with no success, Jesus has them put their nets down again and they catch so many fish that they need two boats to drag them all in. And so when Jesus says to follow him, he’s already earned their amazement and respect.
But for me, it’s John’s gospel that’s the most helpful. It doesn’t mention this particular story, but it tells an earlier story of John the Baptist introducing Jesus to Andrew as “the Lamb of God.” And Andrew is not just a fisherman, but a disciple of John the Baptist, and his teacher has just given Jesus the highest possible recommendation. Jesus then invites Andrew to “come and see” who he is and what he has to offer. There is no pressure, no ultimatum, no hard sell. Just a chance for Andrew to spend the day with Jesus. And the day ends with Andrew introducing Jesus to his brother Simon Peter as “the Messiah.” In his sermon last week, John talked about what that day must have been like, what Andrew’s experience of Jesus must have been like, to make him declare Jesus “the Messiah.”
Taking these 4 gospels together, Jesus’ call to Andrew, Simon Peter, James and John to “follow me” sounds less like a now-or-never-ultimatum and more like a loving invitation. And the disciples’ action in following feels a little more human and understandable. Of course they were still courageous and risk-taking, still incredible role models for us in the way they were able to give up so much of what they knew to follow Jesus, even to the point of giving their lives to spread the gospel. But knowing that there was more leading up to their following Jesus than Matthew lets on makes their story more imaginable, more familiar. Just like us, they were in a process of becoming and believing.
I’m not sure why it surprised me that God would speak to me so differently through this same passage six years later. Afterall, what had attracted me so much to my experience of that African Bible study method was exactly that – seeing how each of us were able to read one passage of scripture and come out with such incredibly different insights and inspirations.
That God continues speaking, and that God’s Word for us can be so new and so compelling gives me hope for that Rich Young Man who just wasn’t ready to take that big “immediate” step. And for all of us that may find ourselves either unsure of the next step or else hesitant to take it. I envision that rich young man having another opportunity somewhere down the road. Maybe after he had some time to think about it, to make his lists of pros and cons, to let go of some of his fears and hang-ups. Maybe then, like the disciples we read about this morning, he got another invitation to “come and see”, another nudge along the way of his answer to Jesus’ call to follow.
Amen.
ER