Third Sunday After Epiphany
I feel like I should give you a warning before I begin this sermon…
I am fired up! I know that’s a little bit scary to Episcopalians. Your heart skipped a beat when I said ‘fired up’, didn’t it? But don’t panic – it’s going to be okay. In fact, I hope that in the weeks and months to come, we’ll all be fired up!
So, what has fanned the flames of excitement? What has “fired me up”?
I returned last night from two days at our Diocesan Convention where I was inspired, energized, and excited by the possibilities ahead of us as Christians in this place and time. (Yes – our diocesan convention did that for me!)
I’m inspired by the stories I heard about the ways our brothers and sisters are serving God in parishes much like ours around our Diocese.
I’m energized by the by the opportunities before us – opportunities to expand our ministries and broaden the circle of lives we touch and of those whose lives touch ours.
And I’m excited – excited about getting down to the business of living the Good News in every single thing we do - as the Church of the Epiphany and as members of the Body of Christ.
Last winter our Book Study group read a book called Radical Welcome, by the Rev. Stephanie Spellers. Stephanie was the preacher and keynote speaker at our Convention this weekend. And let me tell you, brothers and sisters, between Stephanie and Bishop Curry, if anyone left there uninspired…if anyone left without being on fire with the love of Jesus and the desire to spread his Good News - - well, I just don’t think Jesus himself could move them!!
Over the past few weeks we’ve looked together at the idea of call – our call as Christians, and the way Jesus calls us to follow him. Today’s Gospel is the consummate story of call… the story of Jesus calling his first disciples.
Throughout this past week I’ve thought about our call as Christians, as I considered what message I might bring you today. But after having witnessed the work of the Holy Spirit among several hundred Episcopalians this weekend, I realized that I was thinking way too small.
These couple of days of work and worship reminded me that our call as Christians, as Episcopalians, as children of the living God, is more than what we do. It’s who we are. It’s as essential to our lives as air and water.
What we do is the answer to Christ’s call, but the call itself is something deep within us, longing to be set free in the world around us. To change the world for the better. To make God’s kingdom on earth look a lot more like God’s kingdom in heaven.
Today’s Gospel is set in Galilee, where Jesus’ ministry began. We tend to think of Galilee as a quaint place, perhaps a place where not much happened. But, in fact, it was a politically and economically unstable place. It was a diverse place – with Jews and Gentiles of different sects, whose beliefs and practices were diverse. There were widely varying economic situations and beliefs. It was a place where fear and anxiety were part of the daily lives of the people.# Does that sound familiar?
That was the place where Jesus began his ministry. Not in an easy little town, where his words would be gobbled up like honey. But in a city with an undercurrent of unrest, a volatile place, where Jesus’ message might have sounded less like Good News, and more like revolution. Jesus’ message of love and inclusion and forgiveness sound outrageous against a backdrop of anxiety and instability and fear.
The Good News of the Gospel still sounds pretty revolutionary in our modern context, a context not so unlike that of Galilee. We, too, are living in a culture of fear and anxiety. Like the people of Galilee, our setting is one of uncertainty about our future, or even of our next steps.
But, like his message in Galilee, Jesus’ message of hope and welcome, of peace and reconciliation, really is Good News in our own volatile setting. And his call to follow him, to live out that Good News, is just as radical and just as essential as it was for the first disciples he called.
Can you imagine what it would have been like for Andrew and Simon Peter, and John and James, to follow Jesus? Matthew tells us that these men were at work – Simon Peter and Andrew were fishing…that was their livelihood – and James and John were repairing their nets so they could go back out again. And this itinerant teacher walks up to them and says “Follow me and I will make you fish for people” - - and off they all go with him. Presumably Andrew didn’t say “Let me just get these fish in.” Simon Peter didn’t say, “I’ll be there after our next trip out to sea. I just need to get enough money for groceries.” James and John left their father, who was their boss both at home and at work – left him sitting in the boat, left him to repair the nets himself. Can you imagine, especially in that cultural setting, just leaving dad in the boat to run the family business, and wandering off with a guy with no home, no possessions, and (from all appearances) no plan?
No wonder Jesus was considered so outrageous. No wonder he made people uncomfortable and angry. His actions made no logical sense. And, if we’re going completely on logic, they still don’t. As revolutionary - as downright crazy - as it seemed for those men to leave a lucrative business to wander around with a nomadic teacher and preacher, in the eyes of our culture, living out the Good News, following Jesus, seems almost as crazy. If we really lived our lives based on Jesus’ teachings – based on love and hospitality toward everyone, on forgiveness and reconciliation, on compassion and action – people in our town and in our workplaces would think we were as crazy as the people of Galilee probably thought those fishermen were. If we dropped everything important to us, and simply followed Jesus, we’d be just as outrageous as John or Andrew or their brothers.
But, my friends, that is exactly what Christ calls us to do. Just as surely as he told the men in Galilee, “follow me”, he’s telling us that today, and every day. But I think the difference is that we aren’t quite so willing to drop everything and go without a moment’s notice.
Sure, we’ll follow Jesus when it’s convenient. But we draw a pretty distinct line when it comes to making a full commitment. We’ll follow as long as we can come to church when we feel like it, and maybe serve on a committee, or do a little something for the poor. But drop everything to follow Christ? Well, surely he can’t mean everything. We need to have our security – our job, our 401K, our house and car. We need to have the security of family and friends, a support system, entertainment, food, clothing, shelter. We need some creature comforts – heat and air conditioning, electricity and purified water. And our technology – we have to have that. But once all that is taken care of – sure, we’ll follow Jesus. Well, after we’ve had our coffee.
We’re okay with sharing our talents and treasures with people, as long as they conform to our rules, even the unwritten ones (but they’re supposed to know what those are without our telling them). They can even worship with us as long as they do it the “right way” and don’t cause a fuss, or (God forbid) make us uncomfortable.
Because we don’t want Christ’s call to change anything about our lives, especially our religious and spiritual lives. We don’t want to change our style of worship, or our prayers, or our music. Or how we sit or where we sit, or who we sit beside. We don’t want to go all crazy and add a bunch of happy-clappy, hippie stuff. We don’t want to do anything weird. Because it’s only worship if it looks like it always has. Right?
We can follow Jesus as long as it means not adding anything to our too-busy schedules, or going too far out of our way. As long as the people we’re supposed to serve, come to us, and we don’t have to go find them. Especially someplace uncomfortable, like the other end of our street.
So what are we willing to give up in order to follow Christ? What are we willing to do, or change, or be in order to be his disciples? Are we willing to drop everything, like those fishermen, or are we holding on for all we’re worth to the things that make us feel safe and comfortable?
How willing are we to say yes to Jesus’ call to give our lives to him, completely and without reservation? Are we willing to give just a little bit of ourselves – just the comfortable, convenient parts? Or are we willing to take the risk and give our whole lives in answer to Christ’s call?
Are we content to have this building be the place we come on Sundays, or occasional Sundays, and do what we’ve done for 160 years? Or are we willing to offer this space that God has given us to all of God’s people, and to let Christ direct us in how best to use it to his honor and glory? Are we open to let Christ’s Good News be our guide in what we do and how we share our gifts and resources with all - with ALL - of the children of God.
Are we willing to leave this building and go out into the world, just as Jesus did, to where the hurting and hopeless people are? To be with them, to meet them where they are, physically and spiritually, and to just be present with them. Are we willing to just be, to not have a purpose other than showing Christ’s love to them by nothing more than our presence?
Are we open to follow Christ wherever he leads us, even when it’s messy and uncomfortable, and makes us vulnerable? Are we willing to let Jesus’ example and Good News be our only guiding principle – not our egos, not our personal desires, not just our traditions, or our philosophies, or our expertise?
Are we willing to take a stand against anything that opposes the Gospel of Christ? Will we be courageous in the face of evil and hatred? Will we have the courage to confront the things that hurt others, those things done and left undone, which diminish the dignity of others or are detrimental to the unity of the Body of Christ?
Just how far are we willing to go to be Christ’s disciples? What are we really willing to give up, to leave behind in order to follow him? Are we willing to leave our nets unattended, and step into the unknown? Or will we still cling to the security of what we know, fearful that Christ’s promises to make us fish for people might be too hard, or too risky, or simply not true?
This place, this community, this world is our Galilee, with all its unrest and uncertainty.# With all its pitfalls and challenges. With all its anxiety and fear.
Are we willing to follow Christ into the unknown, trusting in the Good News he brings to us? Are we willing to share that Good News with everyone, and with every corner of creation, knowing that it is not our possession, but Christ’s promise to the whole world? Are we willing…and able…and ready to be fired up, and to invite the world to hear the Good News of Christ, and to see what that Good News looks like, through our lives and witness?
If we are willing…
if we are ready…
if we believe we are so called…
may God grant us the courage and the strength
to live Christ’s call to us
in all that we do
and all that we are.