The Rev. Dr. Barbara Ewton

First Congregational Church of Verona

B: Epiphany 3

 

Follow Me

 

Mark 1:14-20

After John was put in prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. "The time has come," he said. "The kingdom of God is near. Repent and believe the good news!" As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James and John, the sons of Zebedee, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

 

            No matter how you read this story, it’s one of the ones that cast shadows backwards and forwards – back as far as Abraham and forward as far as us. Does God still call real people today? Yes. But before we can consider how it happens to us, let’s think a little about what really happened to Peter and what it might mean.

 

            First of all, what does call mean, especially in our times? Perhaps the best definition I know of God’s call is the one by Fred Buechner. Maybe you remember it: “The place to which God calls you is the place where your deep joy and the world’s deep need come together.” In other words, you’ll find the work to which God calls you at the point where your pleasure intersects with their pain. It’s a flash point, a time and place where good can actually happen. It’s serendipity, actually – the moment when your need and the world’s connect so the kingdom of God might grow a little bigger.

 

            How can you tell that this is happening? Well, oddly enough, it often involves a moment when you learn something about yourself that you’ve always suspected, but never considered important. People who feel that God has called them to something often look back and marvel that their whole lives seem to have led to this moment. But the moment of recognition may have been a time when they felt ever so small and unimportant in the overall scheme of things.

 

            Do you remember the story of Samuel’s call? “God can’t be calling me,” the boy said, “it must be Eli.” Three times, Samuel ran to Eli and said, "Here I am; you called me." Three times, Eli said, "I didn’t call you; go back to sleep." Finally, they understood that it was God’s voice and then Samuel answered, "Speak LORD, for your servant is listening."

 

            The same pattern runs throughout the Bible. Moses was sure he could be no use to God because he stuttered. Jeremiah was certain he was too young. Mary was an unmarried teenager. All had experienced a moment when characteristics that were considered to be weaknesses suddenly presented themselves as potential strengths. Moses led his people through the desert- not by words – but by action. Mary was a an unmarried teenager , but she was also a young woman of great faith and courage.

How did all this work itself out in Simon Peter’s story? For one thing, Jesus came to Peter in all his strengths and all of his weaknesses. Jesus saw all of him – the resourceful business owner who wasn’t afraid to go out to deep waters, and the tired husband who could work all night and still not have a fish to feed his family. Jesus saw that the flip side of being headstrong and opinionated was having courage, conviction and the willingness to trust it.

 

            And Jesus knew those were qualities needed for the kingdom of God. He knew that, with God’s grace, Peter’s deep joy – his strong sense of self – would meet the world’s deep need for Christ.

 

            There’s another important side to this story that stays hidden if you just read it on the surface. When we hear about Peter and the others, it’s easy to think of God’s call as a once-in-a-lifetime kind of event. True, Mark says that Peter set aside his nets and immediately left to follow Jesus. But where did he follow Jesus to? He followed him to that terrifying storm-tossed lake, and out to the hungry stretch of desert where Jesus told him to feed 5,000 people. He followed him to Caesarea Philippi, where – right after hearing that he was the rock on which the church would be built – he listened to an angry Jesus tell him to “get behind me, Satan.” He followed Jesus to a time when the tension grew so great that he pointed out “We have left everything to follow you. What will there be for us?” he followed Jesus to the cross and then he followed the mysterious message telling him to go back to Galilee, where he would meet the risen Christ.

 

            At every turn, Peter chose again to follow Jesus. God’s call – then and now – is through a lifetime of twists and turns. It’s a choice you make over and over again. How does it work today? The same way. True, Jesus isn’t physically standing beside us anymore. Today, discovery of the deep joy of an individual, or a community, requires an ongoing openness to God’s spirit – the spirit that seldom shouts, but often whispers softly at the edges of our awareness.

 

            Still, if we listen for God’s spirit by paying attention to the voices of the world around us, some of the sounds we’re going to hear are the voices of people doing many things other than joining together in church. There have been many studies about what factors affect this trend, but I came across some thoughts this week that spoke so clearly that I’d like to share them with you this morning. David Lose is a biblical scholar at Luther Seminary in Minnesota and he has a blog called “Working Preacher” in which he writes:

 

We've moved from the age of duty, where you do things because you're supposed to, to the age of discretion where – nearly overwhelmed with choices about how to spend your time – you exercise discretion based on how it helps you make sense of and get the most out of your life.

[But] many church-goers haven't found the Christian narrative a particularly helpful lens through which to view and make sense of their lives...

 

Whatever the reason(s), folks don't take the biblical story with them out into the world and, indeed, often find other stories (religious or not) that guide their everyday negotiations and decisions more directly. And given the same 168 hours in a week that everyone else gets, more and more of them have decided to spend that [Sunday] hour or two in those pursuits that most help them to navigate the other 166.

 

            So – the goal is to make sense of and get the most out of life – nothing new there. But the context now is that the thinking of the world around us has changed from an authoritarian to an individual choice about what best contributes to making sense of and getting the most out of life. And the result of the moment is that more and more people are finding other resources are more helpful in their attempts to negotiate the highs and lows of their lives. On any given day, other calls are heard more clearly than the one we call Christ’s.

 

            Now, I don’t – at all – read any of this as criticism of these individuals. People are responding to whatever seems best to them and that’s how it needs to be. That’s what a sense of call is about.

 

But what’s to be done if we are to share – really share – God’s love as we know it? How might we be able to share our sense of the place where our deep joy and the world’s deep need come together so the kingdom of God might grow a little.

Because, in the end – no matter how we say it: God’s kingdom or how to get the most out of life – the real questions are how will we know it, how do we live it. Jesus’ answer to how will we know it is that we will recognize it by the presence of daily bread, forgiveness we give as well as receive, deliverance from evil.

 

            And nothing has really changed since biblical times. History has moved on, of course, and technology has widened our to do most everything, but people still hunger for meaning and search for the God of many names. Jesus’ call is simply to follow him on the path he walked through the twists and turns of life, wherever they lead us – helping, healing and sharing God’s love whenever we can – making sense of this one life we share. Amen.

 

 

Let us pray:

           

            Source and answer for our deepest prayers, holy is your name: the name spun in the stars – the name whispered into the darkness, the name written on our hearts. May we welcome your kingdom of peace, not prejudice; of sharing, not grasping; of hope for all your children. May your justice be more than a wish in our hearts; may your will be our deepest desire.

 

       May your healing be for Lois and Conrad, Rosemary, Elaine and Jack, Janet and Don, Buzz, Gladys’ Artie and her brother John and his family, Mitchell and Matthew, Rita, Joan and Tom, Jackie, Gary, Victor, and those we name before you now…

 

May your comfort be with all the victims – the fearful, the exploited, the abandoned. May your blessing be with all who were and are and will be in service to our country. Watch over our friends Michael, Catherine, David and all our absent sisters and brothers. Wrap your love tightest around the one of us who needs you most and hear our prayers for all whose names and needs are known to you alone.

 

(Silent prayer)

 

            Holy One, give us this day our daily bread: let it fill us in the empty moments of our lives; let it slip out of our hands to feed the hungry of our world. Let it be a welcome in our hearts to those who have hurt us, just as we have found welcome in yours.

 

Hear our prayers, for we pray then trusting deeply in the presence of your spirit and the words of your son, as we say together: Our Father who art in heaven, Hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. Your will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: for yours is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever. Amen.