Showing posts with label Fishers of Men. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Fishers of Men. Show all posts

Sunday, February 9, 2025

The marvelous peace of God



They Cast Their Nets in Galilee

1 They cast their nets in Galilee
just off the hills of brown;
such happy, simple fisher-folk,
before the Lord came down.

2 Contented, peaceful fishermen,
before they ever knew
the peace of God that filled their hearts
brimful, and broke them too.

3 Young John who trimmed the flapping sail,
homeless, in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net,
head-down was crucified.

4 The peace of God, it is no peace,
but strife closed in the sod.
Yet let us pray for but one thing-
the marvelous peace of God.

https://hymnary.org/hymn/EH1982/661
William Alexander Percy, 1885-1942 (alt.)
The Hymnal 1982, #661


Some years ago a man born in the Tyrolean Alps of Italy wanted to go on an adventure. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of the saint he was named for. He was named after Francis Xavier, an adventurous saint who had travelled from his native Spain to the farther side of the planet, to India and the shores of China… who in turn was named for Francis of Assisi, who centuries before had traveled to the Holy Land and back and traveled the roads of his native land, following the call of Jesus and the promptings of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming the peaceful reign of God.

Our Tyrolean friend wanted to adventure too, to answer the call of God, and to follow Francis Xavier in going to China. So he became a Jesuit — and the order sent him to the far ends of the earth, but not to China. They sent him the other way round, to the Sonoran Desert. They sent him here.

You know who I mean by now: Eusebio Francisco Kino. Father Kino established a series of mission posts — by simply stopping, preaching, celebrating the Eucharist, and moving on. X marks the spot — all over what is now northern Sonora and southern Arizona, what he called Pimeria Alta — are the spots where he stopped and planted churches.

This all happened before 1711 when he at last dedicated a chapel in Magdalena and then breathed his last, and his bones were laid beside the altar.

He had gone on adventure indeed - and he had answered the call of Christ. It drew him to unexpected places.

That is what the call of Jesus does. Do you think Simon, Andrew, James, and John knew what they were getting into when they left their nets and followed Jesus? No — and yes.

They did not know where he would lead them, or the pain they would suffer, or the glory that awaited. They saw only - only enough: a simple fisher folk by the lake, who put out one more time into deeper water after a night of frustration, on trust, and were shown a miracle.

It was something they could understand - in that it was a lot of fish - but beyond the possibility they knew. What they did know, right then, was not where they were going, or what they would see, but who they were going with. And that was enough — enough to terrify, enough to compel, enough to begin the adventure.

Was it about their worthiness? Was that what qualified them for this all-expense-required trip to the unknown Kingdom? No. What they had was a beginning, the beginning of faith — maybe  starting smaller than the seed of a mustard plant — but it grew as they traveled with Jesus on the way.

Isaiah had said he was a man of unclean lips. Paul saw he was not worthy. Peter called himself a sinful man. But all knew they were in the presence of the Holy - a vision of the Holy One on the throne or a burst of light on the Damascus road or a net full of fish - and they knew something else: they were called, to make the proclamation, to gather in the people, for the Lord was near.

What? No miraculous catch of fish in our life? No burning coal on your lips? No Damascus Road light burst? No, but perhaps God is calling us, you and me and all of us, still to put out once more, even into deep waters, to put our trust in him as they did along that lakeshore far away.

For what happens when we follow God’s call is not up to us, and what we know is not the sonar assurance of a shoal of fish, what we know is that we are with the one we can trust, who reveals to us the presence of God’s glory, in a touch of a healing hand, in a mention of a name in prayer, we are no less than ancient fisher folk invited on an adventure that will carry us — to a place we have never seen, that yet is our home. 

He is the way. He is the truth. He is the life. He is the journey and the destination. The one with us is the one who expects us and welcomes us home.

When I was far from home I went to visit an old friend and told him my reluctant story — that years after seminary I was still despite my uncertainty feeling a desire to pursue ordination — but I did not know if I could or should or what would happen if I tried. And he asked, is it a question of unworthiness?

Unworthiness.

Because that, my friends, as it turns out, is a chief qualification.

Because it means you are developing a proper sense of awe.

And yet you need to know it is not about your worthiness. It is about his glory and his call to you.

From now on leave behind the tangling anxieties that pull you down. For you will be catching - gathering - bringing into the kingdom - the living souls of people.

This is not a gospel message for preachers only, of course, or for times when only religion is on your mind.

In every ordinary thing we do God can be revealed and proclaimed, beyond our arrangement or understanding. Our imaginations are inadequate to the surprise of his revelation.

What I have experienced since that now-distant visit to an old friend is not a straightforward journey, nor a progression of triumphs, but a return again and again, to the faithful presence of the Holy in small things as well as great, in the progress or the plod, plod, plod of weary feet, following the path.

Imagine the far travels of Father Kino across unknown deserts, or the oceans crossed by Francis Xavier, or the humble begging of Saint Francis, or the cruel confrontations faced by Peter, and yet imagine, see, God with them, Christ in them, the hope of Glory - and the promise of faith.

Lord give us nets that do not break - by the Christ of the sea may we be caught in the nets of God - and may we in turn catch others.



You just don’t know what you’re getting into when you follow Jesus, do you? It sounds like a pretty good deal. From now on you will be catching people. Sounds like success. Sounds like prosperity. Sounds like – fame.

Not.

But maybe yes.

We do remember these simple fisher folk, as the hymn calls them.

We remember what happened to them. As we imagine it.

More than that, we remember what they taught us, what they testified to, and their deeds – of spreading the word, and their own mouths’ confessions – are what has built the faith we know.

The abundance, beyond expectation, of catch or harvest, that comes with knowing and following God, is part of the story.

There is another part. What happened to these faithful men? How did it end for them?

Did it end in glory? Not for them, not yet. What they do is follow. What happens to them, what is going to happen to them, what happens to them, now, is not their concern. Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people. (Mark 1:16-20//Matthew 4:18-22)

I have a job for you.

That is what it is about. That is what they know. They do not yet know what the job will require, but they have a pretty good sense of who is calling them to do it. And they go.

Saint Peter to Rome, Saint Mark to Egypt, Saint Thomas to India, Saint John to Patmos.

Those are legendary destinations of some of the simple fisherfolk and their friends. Paul wanted to go to Spain, but ended up in Rome, under arrest and on trial. 

In prison or in the marketplace, these early followers, these messengers, of Jesus’ word, had a story to tell, good news to convey. Whether you expected him or not, the one who will bring peace to you and the world has come. 

It is not peace as the world has known it, not as we might have hoped for or expected. It is not a miraculous transformation – it is the simple peace that comes with following God. It is the marvelous peace that comes before – and after – all else. 

In the hymn “They cast their nets in Galilee” we sing some of this story. The song invites us to ask for nothing less than that marvelous peace of God. And warns us of the cost of discipleship.

We can receive the gift, the marvelous peace of God, that is, the kingdom of heaven, only as a gift. We didn’t deserve it. We don’t own it. It is grace alone. And that is what we live by.

We will not, probably, end up like Peter or John. Although some have. We will probably face, continue to face, the workaday cost of discipleship: prayerfully doing the right thing, in prayer doing the next right thing, the thing we know to be right in the present moment. 

Even seeking to know what that right thing is : guided by the Spirit and by the gifts of the Word, as well as our God-given, Spirit-inspired reason, and in a community, if need be, of discernment. There are large things and small, immediate or long-range, that we do.

In these we follow Jesus. In these, we leave our nets, and follow him on the Way. And in these simple things, we begin to ‘catch’ what it is that it means to be his people. Amen.


The Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany. 

Set us free, O God, from the bondage of our sins, and give us the liberty of that abundant life which you have made known to us in your Son our Savior Jesus Christ; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen. (BCP collect)

CEpiphany5 2025 Santa Cruz Lutheran Church, Tucson. 9:30am

Prayer of the Day
Most holy God, the earth is filled with your glory, and before you angels and saints stand in awe. Enlarge our vision to see your power at work in the world, and by your grace make us heralds of your Son, Jesus Christ, our Savior and Lord. Amen.

First Reading: Isaiah 6:1-8 [9-13]
1 In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty, and the hem of his robe filled the temple. 2 Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. 3 And one called to another and said,
 “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts;
 the whole earth is full of his glory.”
4 The pivots on the thresholds shook at the voices of those who called, and the house filled with smoke. 5 And I said, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!”
  6 Then one of the seraphs flew to me, holding a live coal that had been taken from the altar with a pair of tongs. 7 The seraph touched my mouth with it and said, “Now that this has touched your lips, your guilt has departed and your sin is blotted out.” 8 Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And I said, “Here am I; send me!” 

[9 And he said, “Go and say to this people:
 ‘Keep listening, but do not comprehend;
 keep looking, but do not understand.’
 10 Make the mind of this people dull,
  and stop their ears,
  and shut their eyes,
 so that they may not look with their eyes
  and listen with their ears
 and comprehend with their minds
  and turn and be healed.”
 11 Then I said, “How long, O Lord?” And he said,
 “Until cities lie waste
  without inhabitant,
 and houses without people,
  and the land is utterly desolate;
 12 until the Lord sends everyone far away,
  and vast is the emptiness in the midst of the land.
 13 Even if a tenth part remain in it,
  it will be burned again,
 like a terebinth or an oak
  whose stump remains standing
  when it is felled.”
 (The holy seed is its stump.)]

Psalm: Psalm 138
Refrain: I will bow down toward your holy temple. (Ps. 138:2)
 1 I will give thanks to you, O Lord, with | my whole heart;
  before the gods I will | sing your praise.
 2 I will bow down toward your holy temple and praise your name, because of your steadfast | love and faithfulness;
  for you have glorified your name and your word a- | bove all things. R
 3 When I called, you | answered me;
  you increased my | strength within me.
 4 All the rulers of the earth will praise | you, O Lord,
  when they have heard the words | of your mouth.
 5 They will sing of the ways | of the Lord,
  that great is the glory | of the Lord.
 6 The Lord is high, yet cares | for the lowly,
  perceiving the haughty | from afar. R
 7 Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you | keep me safe;
  you stretch forth your hand against the fury of my enemies; your right | hand shall save me.
 8 You will make good your pur- | pose for me;
  O Lord, your steadfast love endures forever; do not abandon the works | of your hands. R

Second Reading: 1 Corinthians 15:1-11
1 Now I want you to understand, brothers and sisters, the good news that I proclaimed to you, which you in turn received, in which also you stand, 2 through which also you are being saved, if you hold firmly to the message that I proclaimed to you—unless you have come to believe in vain.
  3 For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received: that Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures 4 and that he was buried and that he was raised on the third day in accordance with the scriptures 5 and that he appeared to Cephas, then to the twelve. 6 Then he appeared to more than five hundred brothers and sisters at one time, most of whom are still alive, though some have died. 7 Then he appeared to James, then to all the apostles. 8 Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared also to me. 9 For I am the least of the apostles, unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. 10 But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me has not been in vain. On the contrary, I worked harder than any of them, though it was not I but the grace of God that is with me. 11 Whether then it was I or they, so we proclaim and so you believed.

Gospel: Luke 5:1-11
1 Once while Jesus was standing beside the Lake of Gennesaret and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, 2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gotten out of them and were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. 4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” 6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to burst. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’s knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all who were with him were astounded at the catch of fish that they had taken, 10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.








Sunday, April 25, 2021

Do you hear God speaking?



I will make you father of a multitude.” Well might Sarah laugh - as she does in the next chapter of the book of Genesis - when she hears God make this promise to her ninety-nine year old husband. She is old too. And yet shall she have pleasure? She asks you. And yet - the day comes when God's improbable promise is fulfilled. Not by the means they concoct - here is Hagar, take her - but by God's own improbable scheme. For he has more in mind than these two's progeny - or Abraham's "seed" (biological offspring). 

    God through these human means will bring a new joy into the world, a new closeness between humanity and Creator. And not before time. It has taken three thousand years - so far - for us human beings to live into the implications of that promise. To live into that promise and the call in earlier chapters of the same book to both care for and commune with the creation of which we are a part. 

    Over and over God calls on the people to come into relationship, and offers a few ... guidelines. As my friend Lois used to put on the butcher-paper cover over her Bible: "If all else fails, follow the directions." 

    How are we to live? Here is a way: to become the parents of a multitude, the progenitors of faithful offspring beyond count. Beyond count and beyond the charts of genealogists and family therapists. (Though hoo, boy, Abraham's children could use some of those as well... ) But the emphasis here is on the gift: the free gift of God to all humankind, through the faithfulness of Abraham and Sarah. And what is that gift?

    No less than life itself, life in communion with God, each other, our own true selves, and all creation.

    So easily broken is the covenant, so faithful is the promise, that we continually are called back into it.

    "If God is speaking, God speaks more often than people hear."--Tanya Luhrmann.

    God is speaking and offering life. A few people fishing, straggled along the shore of a small Mideastern lake, get the message - a bit directly. A man comes toward them along the shore, past the small mammals and large birds and shoreline plants and rocks, a man they may know - from a hill town some nine hours' walk away - or may not have met before: and he inhabits and manifests and makes known clear and loud the Word that is God come to humanity - and this time, to 'simple fisher folk', in the form of a man who works with his hands, and calls them.

    The man along the shore has something to say to the workers mending their nets - the two brothers, the other two brothers, perhaps an independent woman working her own boat - and offers them a wider world.

    Come with me and I will make you fishers of people.

    This calls them away from their everyday occupations. It requires another level of concern, of care, of commitment. 

    Who do you really serve?  


"Do you hear God speaking?" Keeping the Faith, Home + Life, Arizona Daily Star, Sunday, April 21, 2021, E3. 


http://edgeofenclosure.org/lent2b.html



Tanya Luhrmann, Noel Q King Memorial Lecture, "Voices of Madness, Voices of Spirit" - (https://youtu.be/MTyxhro_Apw). https://www.tanyaluhrmann.com/



Sunday, February 10, 2019

unworthiness

Some years ago a man born in the Tyrolean Alps of Italy wanted to go on an adventure. He wanted to follow in the footsteps of the saint he was named for. He was named after Francis Xavier, an adventurous saint who had travelled from his native Spain to the farther side of the planet, to India and the shores of China… who in turn was named for Francis of Assisi, who centuries before had traveled to the Holy Land and back and traveled the roads of his native land, following the call of Jesus and the promptings of the Holy Spirit, proclaiming the peaceful reign of God.

Our Tyrolean friend wanted to adventure too, to answer the call of God, and to follow Francis Xavier in going to China. So he became a Jesuit - and the order sent him to the far ends of the earth, but not to China. They sent him to Sonora, Mexico. They sent him here.

You know who I mean by now: Eusebio Francisco Kino. Father Kino established a series of mission posts - by simply stopping, preaching, celebrating the Eucharist, and moving on. X marks the spot — all over what is now northern Sonora and southern Arizona, what he called Pimeria Alta - are the spots where he stopped and planted churches.

This all happened before 1711 when he at last dedicated a chapel in Magdalena and then breathed his last, and his bones were laid beside the altar.

He had gone on adventure indeed - and he had answered the call of Christ. It drew him to unexpected places.

That is what the call of Jesus does. Do you think Simon, James, and John knew what they were getting into when they left their nets and followed Jesus? No — and yes.

They did not know where he would lead them, or the pain they would suffer, or the glory that awaited. They saw only - only enough: a simple fisher folk by the lake, who put out one more time into deeper water after a night of frustration, on trust, and were shown a miracle.

It was something they could understand - in that it was a lot of fish - but beyond the possibility they knew. What they did know, right then, was not where they were going, or what they would see, but who they were going with. And that was enough — enough to terrify, enough to compel, enough to begin the adventure.

Was it about their worthiness? Was that what qualified them for this all-expense-required trip to the unknown Kingdom? No. What they had was a beginning, the beginning of faith — maybe  starting smaller than the the seed of a mustard plant — but it grew as they traveled with Jesus on the way.

Isaiah had said he was a man of unclean lips. Paul saw he was not worthy. Peter called himself a sinful man. But all knew they were in the presence of the Holy - a vision of the Holy One on the throne or a burst of light on the Damascus road or a net full of fish - and they knew something else: they were called, to make the proclamation, to gather in the people, for the Lord was near.

What? No miraculous catch of fish in our life? No burning coal on your lips? No Damascus Road light burst? No, but perhaps God is calling us, you and me and all of us, still to put out once more, even into deep waters, to put our trust in him as they did along that lakeshore far away.

For what happens when we follow God’s call is not up to us, and what we know is not the sonar assurance of a shoal of fish, what we know is that we are with the one we can trust, who reveals to us the presence of God’s glory, in a touch of a healing hand, in a mention of a name in prayer, we are no less than ancient fisher folk invited on an adventure that will carry us — to a place where we are long expected, a city we have never seen, that yet is our home. He is the way. He is the truth. He is the life. He is the journey and the destination. The one with us is the one who expects us and welcomes us home.

When I was far from home I went to visit an old friend and told him my reluctant story — that years after seminary I was still despite my uncertainty feeling a desire to pursue ordination — but I did not know if I could or should or what would happen if I tried. And he asked, is it a question of unworthiness?

Unworthiness.

Because that, my friends, as it turns out, is a chief qualification.

Because it means your are developing a proper sense of awe.

And yet you need to know it is not about your worthiness. It is about his glory and his call to you.

From now on leave behind the tangling anxieties that pull you down. For you will be catching - gathering - bringing into the kingdom - the living souls of people.

This is not a gospel message for preachers only, of course, or for times when only religion is on your mind.

In every ordinary thing we do God can be revealed and proclaimed, beyond our arrangement or understanding. Our imaginations are inadequate to the surprise of his revelation.

What I have experienced since that now-distant visit to an old friend is not a straightforward journey, nor a progression of triumphs, but a return again and again, to the faithful presence of the Holy in small things as well as great, in the progress or the plod, plod, plod of weary feet, following the path.

Imagine the far travels of Father Kino across unknown deserts, or the oceans crossed by Francis Xavier, or the humble begging of Saint Francis, or the cruel confrontations faced by Peter, and yet imagine, see, God with them, Christ in them, the hope of Glory - and the promise of faith.

Lord give us nets that do not break - by the Christ of the sea may we be caught in the nets of God - and may we in turn catch our friends.
O God, you have made of one blood all the peoples of the
earth, and sent your blessed Son to preach peace to those
who are far off and to those who are near: Grant that people
everywhere may seek after you and find you; bring the
nations into your fold; pour out your Spirit upon all flesh;
and hasten the coming of your kingdom; through Jesus
Christ our Lord. Amen.

Lord Jesus Christ, you stretched out your arms of love on
the hard wood of the cross that everyone might come within
the reach of your saving embrace: So clothe us in your Spirit
that we, reaching forth our hands in love, may bring those
who do not know you to the knowledge and love of you; for
the honor of your Name. Amen.

On the sea of Galilee you can see a boat like the ones Peter and James and John and the other fishers of men sailed upon during the first century of our era. It is preserved inside a museum at the kibbutz of Ginosar, a fertile place surrounded by banana trees and other fruitful plants. There it rests, between Magdala and Capernaum, on the western side of the sea. It is not far from Tabgha where German Benedictines watch over the church of the multiplication of loaves and fishes and the church of the primacy of Peter ("Peter, do you love me?").

This is the kind of boat that Jesus was in - one with disciples, uncertain, unknowing, faithful; ready to put out into deep water and again try to do something they knew very well might not work. That did not stop them - and they who had followed him as soon as he called them, came up - not empty, but full beyond their hopes. A boat full of fish. From deep water.

Far from land, not safe, not safe at all: where the storms blew up fast and the waves were steep and close together when the wind rose, they cast their nets once again. And this is what they found: God is faithful - and he knows what he is doing.

 (Howard Hayden fly-casting on the Stillaguamish River)

The lessons from the Old Testament, both Isaiah and the responsorial psalm, talk about the glory of God. This resonates with the admonition of Paul the Apostle, in the letter to Colossians (1:27): Christ in you, the hope of Glory.

The praises of all Creation resound with the name of God and his Glory. His shining- forth, that is, his Epiphany, or revealing, to all people. In this week's fifth Sunday of Epiphany, the revealing is of Christ as a bringer of abundance, a maker of miracles. But he has something more in mind: not showing off a divine ability but revealing the glory of God in an ordinary (until then) moment.

They have been fishing - and have gotten nowhere. They have nothing to show for their work. Until he provides for them, and shows them, that there is something beyond their current calling, a new work for them to do. Now they are to fish for people.

I think they get it. When they go out into perilous places beyond safe limits they will find abundance.



Sources:
Howard Hayden
Suzanne Guthrie, Edge of Enclosure
David Bartlett and Barbara Brown Taylor, eds., Feasting on the Word

Sunday, January 25, 2009

Immediately they left their nets ....

A friend writes....

Sunday 2009-1-25

Out of the Old Testament lesson, one phrase jumped out at me:
God "changed his mind" about Nineveh. Imagine a God who created
the universe and yet can still change his mind.

The sermon and New Testament lesson concerned calling the fisherman-
disciples to be fishers of men or souls:

1) The fish do not want to be caught. In fact, they are pretty
vigilant to avoid it. Do souls feel the same way? It feels like
I have spent a fair amount of time flopping in the net myself.

2) "Immediately" they left their nets to follow him. Several things
about that. They depended on their nets for their survival and that
of their families. Their nets were not of nylon. They were difficult
to construct and required constant maintenance to retain their value.
And yet the disciples abandoned their nets at "at once". I have a
similar impression of the shepherds at Christmas, depending on their
flocks for their lives, and yet leaving them in the fields to
go to Bethlehem "at once". Both groups recognized something as
important as survival.

3) This story does not seem to me to encourage being prepared, rather
when God calls, you go right now, ready or not. Yet being prepared is
still very important. How could you say you believe and not prepare
accordingly? The answer, I think, is to work towards being always ready,
a point repeated with emphasis and even more clearly elsewhere
in the New Testament.

I have had more paltry catches of a Sunday morning.

-Roger


+

Sunday, January 27, 2008

God illumines my aunt

In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

One day in the office my cubicle neighbor turned to me and whispered, "Do you know what it means?" She pointed to the corporate logo: an open book with seven seals, and the motto written on the pages. I looked at it. I wasn't sure. I don't read Latin. So I ventured a guess: "God illumines my aunt?"

Lydia laughed.

The motto of our company, Oxford University Press, was very old, dating back before Columbus, back before Richard II (who signed off on it), back before Christ. It was:

Dominus illuminatio mea: The LORD is my light.

The beginning of the 27th Psalm, our psalm today.

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? *
the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?

The light that illuminates me - and you - is the Lord.

In the 10th Century before Christ, the prophet Isaiah gave good news to the people of northern Israel, people who were being over-run by the Assyrian empire.

Even they, distant from Jerusalem, far in the north, on the shores and on the hills overlooking the Sea of Galilee, would experience a vindication, a salvation. For along the road to the sea, where they lived, the light of the Lord would shine:

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light;
those who lived in a land of deep darkness-on them light has shined.

This is the land where Jesus walked, at the beginning of his ministry. Herod Antipas had arrested John the Baptist, and Jesus left that territory and moved north toward Nazareth, the place where he was raised. He made his home in a larger town, new and busy, down by the lakeshore: Capernaum, where fishing was the industry. It was along that ancient trade route, the road to the sea; Via Maris, it was called now. Traffic passed along, goods were transported, from Damascus to the west, and to Egypt.

And there, after the voice of the 'one crying in the wilderness' had been silenced, Jesus began to spread the good news himself, and to call to the people to turn away from the reign of the rulers of this world, Herod and such, and leave aside their own follies and past sins.

Something new is beginning, a light is dawning, & the reign of God is at hand.

Jesus begins to call his disciples. And his call to them has two parts:

Follow me.

And.

And I will make you fish for people.

There is a call, an initial response of faith, and an action. They do something, right away. Later Jesus will call Matthew from the tax tables, and put him to work, at something much greater: gathering in, no longer, tax monies for the overlords, but gathering in the people of God to bring the kingdom of God.

Now, it is follow me, and.

Later, one of these fishermen, Peter, will answer a question, "What must I do to be saved?" and his answer, again, will begin with an initial response of faith: "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved."

But that is, generally speaking, not the end of the answer: beyond this initial act, there is an action. "Believe, and be baptized." Believe, and ---. Believe, and act to make it real. Make the salvation not a thing of head only but of heart, not of words only, but of deeds. Act it out with your body. Go and be baptized. Go and sell all you have, and distribute the proceeds to the poor: then you are really following me.

And Jesus reveals to the fisher folk what it means to follow him. First he said, "Follow me," but he continued, "and I will make you fish for people." I will make you fishers of men. Together.

And they dropped what they were doing, right then and there, said good-bye to their families, and went. That is when they found out what it meant to 'fish for people.'

Jesus led them up into the hill country and throughout the region. He proclaimed the good news. And he enacted the kingdom of heaven, embodied the reign of God - by curing every disease and every sickness among the people.

Here he gives a clear sign, an early warning, quite distinct, that something new is happening. The Messiah, the light of the Lord shining forth from one person, is the dawning of the new day for Israel, the day of the Lord. The Lord's anointed, the Messiah, the Christ, leads the way.

He calls to Simon Peter and Andrew his brother, and to James and John the sons of Zebedee, to follow his way. And -

He calls us.

The apostle Paul, in speaking to those exemplary Christians at Corinth - examples of so much that we recognize as behavior of the church - makes an appeal to them as his own brothers and sisters in the Lord, and he makes it in the name of Jesus: be in agreement, let there be no divisions. Don't fall apart into factions or parties, as if your identity lay in anything less than in the Lord.

He gets a little caustic: "Has Christ been divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul?" What he is doing is reminding them of their true allegiance, the only one that really matters in the end: they are the people of God, the people redeemed by the Lord and baptized in the name of the Savior.

His primary task is not the initial plunge: it is to proclaim the gospel, to preach the good news, so that the power of the cross of Christ - that paradoxical sign of the power of God - the cross might be revealed as the sign of glory.

And that the people of God - you and I, and they - the Corinthians - might know that in Christ alone is our salvation and our hope and our identity - and our mission.

They are not to divide themselves up into little camps, or tribes.
They are to stay together, focus on mission, and move forward in the name of Christ.

Follow me and.

Believe and.

What is left for us? Two things:

A great commandment.
A great commission.

The first is about staying together. The second is about focusing on mission. And they both are about moving forward in the name of Christ.

We will encounter these again later in Matthew's gospel, as the year goes by.

First,

The Great Commandment (Matthew 22:37-40)

Hear what our Lord Jesus Christ saith:
Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with
all thy soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great
commandment. And the second is like unto it: Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments
hang all the Law and the Prophets.

And second,

The Great Commission (Matthew 28:16-20):

Now the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain to which Jesus had directed them. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. And Jesus came and said to them, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age."

Together, these two directives, great commandment and great commission, form us into the people of God, shape us as a church, and remind us of what we are doing. So we pray,

Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation, that we and the whole world may perceive the glory of his marvelous works; who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.



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References

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ministry_of_Jesus (accessed 5:12 AM Sunday, January 27, 2008)

The Third Sunday after Epiphany, January 27, 2008
Year A, Revised Common Lectionary (RCL)
Isaiah 9:1-4
Psalm 27:1, 5-12
1 Corinthians 1:10-18
Matthew 4:12-23


Psalm 27:1 (Page 617, BCP)
Dominus illuminatio mea

The LORD is my light and my salvation; whom then shall I fear? *
the LORD is the strength of my life; of whom then shall I be afraid?