Drop Your Nets
The Rev. Amy Hodges Morehous
Epiphany 3, Year A
January 23, 2011
Church of the Ascension
It was an ordinary day for the fishermen beside the sea of Galilee. They were doing the same thing they had done hundreds, probably thousands of times. They were working. Fishing then was hard work - not something done for leisure, not lazily casting a line into the water and contemplating it for an afternoon. Imagine casting your net over and over, and hoping you would find something, then dragging it in over the side of the boat, wriggling and uncooperative, and onto the shore. As we know from the other gospels, sometimes it was an unfruitful day - the fishermen would cast their nets all day long, and become weary with failure. But in today’s gospel from Matthew, it was an ordinary day, no different from many others. Just Peter, Andrew, James, John and their father Zebedee, all occupied with their work.
Then Jesus approaches them, and in the blink of eye, this day which had been so unremarkable suddenly became amazing, remarkable - exceptional. Jesus walks up to them, and offers them something precious. He doesn’t seem to mind that they are lowly fishermen - not a lot of status, or money. No political power, to speak of. He doesn’t even seem to mind that they must be badly in need of a shower - wet, slimy with fish, and grimy with sand.
On the face of it, Jesus is a terrible interviewer. Here he is, filling new positions with a start-up organization, and he doesn’t ask about their education, or their abilities. He doesn’t ask them up front if they’re available for a three-year commitment with a lot of travel. He doesn’t even ask them to clean up before they show up for the first day on the job. He calls the four just as they are, from where they are. Christ looks at them with love, looks past their bedraggled and fishy exterior, and sees something greater in them than they think they are. He does not say to them, “You’re doing the wrong thing.” He looks to Peter and Andrew and James and John and says, “Come, I am doing a new thing. Come, and see.”
And their response is incredible - amazing, even. They drop their nets, leave their boat and their father in the water, and leave with Jesus. They let go of what they had known, of the tools they were familiar with, and they step out into the unknown. We usually hold them up as examples we should all follow. Those bold and courageous disciples. But didn’t you ever wonder if they weren’t being a little impulsive? Even irresponsible?
For these men to leave everything and follow someone they didn't fully know - imagine the repercussions for their families-for their community. All four gospels present it as a sudden, radical change. Mark uses the adverb "immediately," many times in his gospel to indicate the urgency of people's actions. But in this chapter Matthew borrows Mark's favorite word and uses it twice. "Immediately they (Simon Peter and Andrew) left their nets and followed him. . . . Immediately they (James and John, sons of Zebedee) left the boat and their father, and followed him" (Mt. 4:20, 22). In the blink of an eye, their lives are changed forever.
What else can we call this but a snap decision? Snap decisions aren’t always the best. Goodness knows I’ve made several that didn’t work out at all. But sometimes … sometimes snap decisions are powerful things. When you've been praying and seeking guidance, when it's time for a decision, it can feel sudden and spontaneous. But in reality, it has taken your whole life, the whole of your deepest intuition to get to that crucial decision point.
One of the hard truths of being a Christian is that there are decisions to be made. I don’t mean in the old-timey, Southern church sense. I’m not going to make us all supremely uncomfortable by presenting us all with an altar call, so that we may “Decide to Follow Christ” once and for all. To be perfectly honest, I feel as if I have an altar call every morning when I get out of bed. Every morning, I can decide whether or not I want to follow, can decide that I will try to trust God, and meet Christ in the places he calls me. I have days when I don’t want to do that. Because the other hard truth is that when Jesus calls us, something has to be given up. To follow Jesus, the disciples have to drop their nets and give up their livelihoods. Now, I’m not up here asking you to give up your livelihoods. But I am asking you to think, this morning, about what you need to drop in order to follow your calling.
If nothing comes to mind at first, I would suggest that we could all begin by giving up some of our “buts”. You know what I mean - our usual response to being called to something. Since a call asks us to move outside our comfort zone, it usually appears as something that will make us … uncomfortable. Uneasy. Our response frequently begins with, “But....” “But I smell like fish. But I’m not smart enough. But I don’t have a lot of time. But I am weak. But I have to finish mending this net. But I have sinned. But I’m not good enough. But I am broken.”
When you come to those times of decision, what will be your choice? Will you follow Christ, or will you stay where you are - will you cling to the comfortable and grasp tightly to your net? We frequently sing and say the time-honored words, “Here I Am, Lord, Send Me.” But some days, if we’re honest, we’d like to sing that less familiar, but but more honest hymn, ‘Here’s My Check, Lord...Please Send Someone Else’.
If we are looking, each day we will see Christ before us, presenting us with opportunities for ministry. I know you think that’s easy for me to say. I’m standing up here in this white robe and collar, and I think about ministry all the time. One of the questions that I have asked repeatedly over these past months is what I could possibly have to offer as a servant of the people of God - how I could serve each of you - knowing how broken and saddened and at a loss for answers that I sometimes feel. But you have all shown me that being ministered to is a ministry of its own. We are not ministers by what we do, but by who we are. Someone ministering to me said, “Remember that God called you into ministry. Not the ideal you, not the perfect you, but you. With all your faults and all your heartbreaks, and all your imperfections.” The same is true for everyone here. Christ calls you - each of you - just where you are, just as you are. God is not interested in the perfect you, the you that has it all together, but in the real you, brokenness and imperfection and uncertainty and all.
This morning, I want you to know that there is a ministry in the kingdom of God that only you can do. There’s no one else in the whole fellowship of God’s people who is just like you, who has had your life experiences, and your griefs and your joys. There is a place for your ministry in the world, and here in this church that is yours alone. As you change and grow in your life in Christ, as the story of life itself changes, so will your call to ministry. Part of following Christ is discerning when to step out into the new, and to leave the old and comfortable behind. In a few minutes we will install new vestry members - people who accepted a call to serve you. Jesus does not call us to be comfortable or complacent. If you do what you do only because you are comfortable, I would ask you to consider it carefully - prayerfully. If you are currently involved in a ministry which has become a job to you, or worse, has become an obligation, or a chore - I’m here this morning to tell you to drop it. Let go of it just as the fishermen let go of their nets and left them behind. Because if you continue doing the ministry to which you are not called, then that means that your true ministry - the ministry that will fill your soul, challenge your mind, and lead you into a closer relationship with Christ - is out there somewhere, unfilled.
I do believe, passionately, that we each are chosen and called to the ministry of our own lives. It’s very hard to be very excited about doing a job. It’s very easy to be excited about living into the ministry to which we are called, and gifted and chosen. Frederich Buechner says that “An average church is filled with people doing jobs. A great church is filled with people involved in ministry.” We’re not asking you to show up here and do your job. We are asking you to find the ministry of your life...the thing that gladdens your heart, and the heart of God. When we are living into the place where God has called us to be, the joy of that will be nearly irresistible.
We may have come here this day searching for Christ. May we leave here today knowing that Christ is always there, standing before us. We may seek him in all the wrong places, looking with imperfect eyes, amidst crowded and sometimes broken lives, but may you believe that in countless ways and times, Christ reaches out for each of us. His boundless love will seek us wherever we are...and he will not be content to leave us by the shore, where he found us. Christ comes to each of us, to say “Come and see the new thing before you this day.” We only have to drop our nets, and see it.
Amen.
Epiphany 3, Year A
January 23, 2011
Church of the Ascension
It was an ordinary day for the fishermen beside the sea of Galilee. They were doing the same thing they had done hundreds, probably thousands of times. They were working. Fishing then was hard work - not something done for leisure, not lazily casting a line into the water and contemplating it for an afternoon. Imagine casting your net over and over, and hoping you would find something, then dragging it in over the side of the boat, wriggling and uncooperative, and onto the shore. As we know from the other gospels, sometimes it was an unfruitful day - the fishermen would cast their nets all day long, and become weary with failure. But in today’s gospel from Matthew, it was an ordinary day, no different from many others. Just Peter, Andrew, James, John and their father Zebedee, all occupied with their work.
Then Jesus approaches them, and in the blink of eye, this day which had been so unremarkable suddenly became amazing, remarkable - exceptional. Jesus walks up to them, and offers them something precious. He doesn’t seem to mind that they are lowly fishermen - not a lot of status, or money. No political power, to speak of. He doesn’t even seem to mind that they must be badly in need of a shower - wet, slimy with fish, and grimy with sand.
On the face of it, Jesus is a terrible interviewer. Here he is, filling new positions with a start-up organization, and he doesn’t ask about their education, or their abilities. He doesn’t ask them up front if they’re available for a three-year commitment with a lot of travel. He doesn’t even ask them to clean up before they show up for the first day on the job. He calls the four just as they are, from where they are. Christ looks at them with love, looks past their bedraggled and fishy exterior, and sees something greater in them than they think they are. He does not say to them, “You’re doing the wrong thing.” He looks to Peter and Andrew and James and John and says, “Come, I am doing a new thing. Come, and see.”
And their response is incredible - amazing, even. They drop their nets, leave their boat and their father in the water, and leave with Jesus. They let go of what they had known, of the tools they were familiar with, and they step out into the unknown. We usually hold them up as examples we should all follow. Those bold and courageous disciples. But didn’t you ever wonder if they weren’t being a little impulsive? Even irresponsible?
For these men to leave everything and follow someone they didn't fully know - imagine the repercussions for their families-for their community. All four gospels present it as a sudden, radical change. Mark uses the adverb "immediately," many times in his gospel to indicate the urgency of people's actions. But in this chapter Matthew borrows Mark's favorite word and uses it twice. "Immediately they (Simon Peter and Andrew) left their nets and followed him. . . . Immediately they (James and John, sons of Zebedee) left the boat and their father, and followed him" (Mt. 4:20, 22). In the blink of an eye, their lives are changed forever.
What else can we call this but a snap decision? Snap decisions aren’t always the best. Goodness knows I’ve made several that didn’t work out at all. But sometimes … sometimes snap decisions are powerful things. When you've been praying and seeking guidance, when it's time for a decision, it can feel sudden and spontaneous. But in reality, it has taken your whole life, the whole of your deepest intuition to get to that crucial decision point.
One of the hard truths of being a Christian is that there are decisions to be made. I don’t mean in the old-timey, Southern church sense. I’m not going to make us all supremely uncomfortable by presenting us all with an altar call, so that we may “Decide to Follow Christ” once and for all. To be perfectly honest, I feel as if I have an altar call every morning when I get out of bed. Every morning, I can decide whether or not I want to follow, can decide that I will try to trust God, and meet Christ in the places he calls me. I have days when I don’t want to do that. Because the other hard truth is that when Jesus calls us, something has to be given up. To follow Jesus, the disciples have to drop their nets and give up their livelihoods. Now, I’m not up here asking you to give up your livelihoods. But I am asking you to think, this morning, about what you need to drop in order to follow your calling.
If nothing comes to mind at first, I would suggest that we could all begin by giving up some of our “buts”. You know what I mean - our usual response to being called to something. Since a call asks us to move outside our comfort zone, it usually appears as something that will make us … uncomfortable. Uneasy. Our response frequently begins with, “But....” “But I smell like fish. But I’m not smart enough. But I don’t have a lot of time. But I am weak. But I have to finish mending this net. But I have sinned. But I’m not good enough. But I am broken.”
When you come to those times of decision, what will be your choice? Will you follow Christ, or will you stay where you are - will you cling to the comfortable and grasp tightly to your net? We frequently sing and say the time-honored words, “Here I Am, Lord, Send Me.” But some days, if we’re honest, we’d like to sing that less familiar, but but more honest hymn, ‘Here’s My Check, Lord...Please Send Someone Else’.
If we are looking, each day we will see Christ before us, presenting us with opportunities for ministry. I know you think that’s easy for me to say. I’m standing up here in this white robe and collar, and I think about ministry all the time. One of the questions that I have asked repeatedly over these past months is what I could possibly have to offer as a servant of the people of God - how I could serve each of you - knowing how broken and saddened and at a loss for answers that I sometimes feel. But you have all shown me that being ministered to is a ministry of its own. We are not ministers by what we do, but by who we are. Someone ministering to me said, “Remember that God called you into ministry. Not the ideal you, not the perfect you, but you. With all your faults and all your heartbreaks, and all your imperfections.” The same is true for everyone here. Christ calls you - each of you - just where you are, just as you are. God is not interested in the perfect you, the you that has it all together, but in the real you, brokenness and imperfection and uncertainty and all.
This morning, I want you to know that there is a ministry in the kingdom of God that only you can do. There’s no one else in the whole fellowship of God’s people who is just like you, who has had your life experiences, and your griefs and your joys. There is a place for your ministry in the world, and here in this church that is yours alone. As you change and grow in your life in Christ, as the story of life itself changes, so will your call to ministry. Part of following Christ is discerning when to step out into the new, and to leave the old and comfortable behind. In a few minutes we will install new vestry members - people who accepted a call to serve you. Jesus does not call us to be comfortable or complacent. If you do what you do only because you are comfortable, I would ask you to consider it carefully - prayerfully. If you are currently involved in a ministry which has become a job to you, or worse, has become an obligation, or a chore - I’m here this morning to tell you to drop it. Let go of it just as the fishermen let go of their nets and left them behind. Because if you continue doing the ministry to which you are not called, then that means that your true ministry - the ministry that will fill your soul, challenge your mind, and lead you into a closer relationship with Christ - is out there somewhere, unfilled.
I do believe, passionately, that we each are chosen and called to the ministry of our own lives. It’s very hard to be very excited about doing a job. It’s very easy to be excited about living into the ministry to which we are called, and gifted and chosen. Frederich Buechner says that “An average church is filled with people doing jobs. A great church is filled with people involved in ministry.” We’re not asking you to show up here and do your job. We are asking you to find the ministry of your life...the thing that gladdens your heart, and the heart of God. When we are living into the place where God has called us to be, the joy of that will be nearly irresistible.
We may have come here this day searching for Christ. May we leave here today knowing that Christ is always there, standing before us. We may seek him in all the wrong places, looking with imperfect eyes, amidst crowded and sometimes broken lives, but may you believe that in countless ways and times, Christ reaches out for each of us. His boundless love will seek us wherever we are...and he will not be content to leave us by the shore, where he found us. Christ comes to each of us, to say “Come and see the new thing before you this day.” We only have to drop our nets, and see it.
Amen.
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