"Call and Response"
January 22, 2006: 3rd Sunday after Epiphany, Year B
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, pastor
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.newlights.org
Scripture:
Mark 1:14-20
Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, 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.
Sermon:
Last week, those who braved the swirling snow to gather here heard the story of Samuel, yet another of God's children of promise, born into a time when the "word of God was rare" and "visions were not widespread," but the "lamp of God had not yet gone out." And though it did take Samuel a while to recognize God's voice—setting up several comic scenes with his mentor, Eli—God called Samuel, even inexperienced Samuel, to listen and serve, to play a part in God's great work of salvation.
This week we have another call story before us, this time from the New Testament. It begins, in the abrupt way of the Gospel According to Mark, with the Jesus' inaugural sermon, the scant nineteen words my first preaching professor held up for us as the model sermon: "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news."
Note the timing: Imperial Rome rules Palestine through their family of puppet kings, including Herod Antipas in Galilee, and Herod has jailed the popular prophet John, called the Baptizer, in order to put an end to his grassroots call for reform in religion and politics. It is in this context—his homeland occupied, his religion hijacked, and his mentor imprisoned—that Jesus begins his public ministry. The word of God was rare, visions were not widespread, but the lamp of God had not yet gone out. To use the language current in our own United Church of Christ, God was still speaking.
And Jesus? Well, he was speaking to anyone he could find. But it turns out that "repent, and believe the good news" was not a popular theme among the movers and shakers of the day... or those many, many more who aspired to move and shake. Why repent, why turn things upside down when you're on top? Why turn your life around when believe you're moving on up? Why root for the end of the world as we know it when you rule the world, or share opera tickets with those who do?
But Jesus' message found fertile ground among the common tradespeople, tax collectors, old women, day laborers, prostitutes, and lepers. These formed the core of Jesus' first congregation, simply anybody who was nobody. They had the inclination to listen to Jesus' talk of a God who was with them and for them. They listened as he preached the king-dom, not of Caesar or Herod, but of God, who desired not simply to transplant them to the top of the heap, but to level the heap altogether, to "lift every valley and bring every mountain and hill low" (Isaiah 40:4), renovating the social and political landscape for good and forever.
And fishermen, not romantic seafarers but crustier types who scraped a living from the Sea of Galilee one backbreaking, bedraggled net at a time—Jesus spoke to them, too. That's where he found Peter and Andrew, seining the muddy edges of the lake for fingerlings. And there, too, he found James and John, bending their cracked red fingers to the mending of their nets alongside their father and the boatless men who hired on with them. That's where they heard Jesus calling. He called them to a new life in a new world, a life not of power but of purpose, as fishers of people. "Follow me," he said, and they did. They responded to his call. They got up and left the very little they could call theirs in order to be his.
So what does this have to do with us here at United Church on the Green this morning? Admittedly, not much. By almost any measure, we have next to nothing in common with that congregation of First Church, Galilee. Not many... if any... of us are day laborers, tax collectors, prostitutes, or lepers living hand to mouth. Not many... if any... of us are rightly numbered among the anawim, the landless, helpless, hopeless poor of Jesus' day... or ours. If we fish, it's likely for sport, not survival, not like Peter and Andrew, not like the weathered little men who cast their lines off the Middletown Avenue crossover today.
No, truth be told, we have much more in common with the powerful. Heck, we are the powerful, you and I, even if perhaps it's not our party who's in power at the moment. The self-study survey conducted by our Visioning Committee this past fall spells it out in no uncertain terms. Many... if not all... of us enjoy an uncommonly good life thanks to a whole constellation of factors such as education, employment, health, ethnic background, physical and mental ability, skin tone, citizenship, among others, that mark us out for privilege in our society, factors that, for the most part, we did nothing to earn, or at least a lot less than we usually like to take credit for. Sure, we may have pulled ourselves up by our bootstraps, but where'd we get the boots?
That being said, there is something we share with Peter and Andrew, James and John, Matthew, Martha, and Mary and the rest of that motley crew: Jesus comes calling us, too. The spirit of Christ walks the world even today, stopping in each place of labor and leisure to whisper into each heart, "Follow me." Follow me, and I will give you not power, but purpose, and not only purpose but also presence, the presence of God. By virtue of your presence here this morning, you are saying that at some level, you hear that voice... or you once did... or you want to. And you want to respond.
Great. Wonderful! Congratulations and welcome! Showing up is the first step in following, without which nothing else is possible. But it is only the first. And frankly, if we're going to respond to Christ's call to discipleship, we've got a lot to overcome, because as prisoners of our own privilege, we've got a lot to lose. The good news of the kingdom of God is profoundly countercultural, and not in a microbrew and NPR and "omigod I saw 'Rent' five times" kind of way. It's not a smart-alecky sticker on the bumper of our Subaru Forester until the next election. It's a different vehicle altogether, built of justice, peace, and compassion. Responding to the call means giving up every privilege our world has bestowed on us, everything our world tells us we are, and waiting for God to make us over again in God's image as the body of Christ in the world.
It all starts here, with the living word of God in Christ that comes to us by the power of the Spirit through the scriptures—and if not, I hope, in spite of them—and even through my preaching—and if not, I hope, in spite of it. But if it remains here, if Jesus calls us and we remain merely an audience, even an appreciative audience, if we simply sample it as we would a glass of wine or the latest art house film, if we remain consumers only, then we cannot become disciples. The fishermen left their nets, their livelihoods, their whole lives to pursue the dream of the kingdom of God. They gave themselves up to change to follow Christ. What are we prepared to leave? What are we prepared to change? What are we prepared to do to respond when Jesus comes calling us?
Now, at this point in the sermon, Louise would be saying "Oh my." And that's a good way to put it. But in the vernacular I grew up with, right about now somebody would be saying, "Whoa now, pastor: you've left off preaching and gone to meddling." And that's right. At this point I'm finished with the fine Biblical exegesis and the historical-critical method and the systematic theology, even. I'm done with the stories full of quaint fairy tale creatures like Pharisees and Sadduccees and lepers and publicans. I'm fresh out of vague moral exhortation, and I'm asking you, here, now, asking us, all of us: What are we prepared to do to live up to the name we bear as Christians, members of the Church of Jesus Christ? Are you, in fact, prepared to become not just seekers but finders and disciples?
Because the Church of Jesus Christ and our United Church of Christ and this very United Church on the Green need disciples. The church doesn't need audience members—even season ticket holders. The church needs people who have heard the Word of God in acts of justice, peace, and compassion; who look to Jesus of Nazareth as their example and more—the face of the living God turned toward the world in love; who have felt the tickling whisper of the Holy Spirit in their hearts and, despite their fears, are ready to respond in faith.
Just to be clear: the church needs people of faith, not certainty. Please, I can be certain of almost anything, at least for ten minutes. What the church needs is people who doubt and question and kvetch and criticize and who still step out in faith. And not some kind of fossilized faith with pretensions of being the same "today, tomorrow, forever," but the kind of faith that drives us to pitch our tents in whatever unlikely location the pilgrim Spirit leads us next.
So, again, the question stands before us: What are we prepared to do to respond to the call of God in this community of faith? Because, as I said last week, God is calling us to find new ways of making this church part of our lives, and our lives part of this church, not only now, but particularly now in this time of transition.
So let's talk brass tacks. Are you prepared to pledge to the budget if you haven't already? or to up your pledge if you have? Because as the Board of Stewards has been trying to tell us in their subtle Congregational way, we are living on borrowed time, economically speaking. We are burning through the borrowed generosity of those disciples who endowed this church in the past. Our pledges currently account for less than twenty-percent of the operating budget of our church. When the moneys in the endowment run out, and perhaps little Elias and Jesse will be here to see that happen, which twenty percent of the church would you prefer they keep? Or are you prepared to make that kind of concrete change in your life to further God's mission of healing and reconciliation and grace in the world that flows from this place?
Ouch. That stings, I know. It stings me, too, trust me. I pledge to the life of this congregation, too, you know, and probably not nearly enough, either. That's work I have to do. But as we let that sink in, let's go on.
What other changes are you willing to make in response to Christ's call to follow in his way, as part of his people? Are you willing to serve, if asked, on a board or committee? The nominating committee had completed their work for this year. They will provide us with a slate of nominees at our annual congregational meeting next Sunday. This year we are particularly thankful for the extra dedication of the Visioning Committee and look forward to the commitment of the new Search Committee. But just as we cannot continue to use up the monetary resources left to us by our forebears, we cannot continue to use up the time and talents of the usual suspects among us. You know who you are, you people who just cannot say no, God bless you. But we always need more, more names, new and old, more folks willing to give up those precious after-work hours to share their gifts for leadership within our community of faith.
But no one ever said you had to write a big check or be elected to an office to be a faithful disciple of Christ. There are as many ways to follow as there are followers. And in this year of change, we need to be mindful of asking that question, too: What new ways to serve can you imagine? As a church, we are not, or at least we should not be a museum, endlessly spinning out picturesque variations on the way we've always done things since 1742... or 1965... or 1985... or 2005. Just as we are called to change as individuals in response to God's call, so the church itself is called to change, to growth, to resurrection even. How might we as a church encourage the creativity of our members to contribute to our life together in new ways? What can we imagine becoming? Small groups in which to share our life stories and our faith? Habit-for-Humanity work teams? An ongoing program of email activism? Folk music worship services? A corps of greeters to welcome our guests? How is the Holy Spirit inspiring you to dream the church anew? And what are you prepared to do, yourselves, with your own hands, to make that dream a reality.
In closing this morning, I want to return again to a theme I brought up way back at the beginning. I want to reiterate that showing up is the first step in following. Obviously you know this. You're here in the pews. I may be preaching to the choir, literally. But even so I want to encourage you to come back, and often, especially through this time of transition that lies before us—or, really, before you, as, God willing, I will be moving on to a new call some time in the coming year.
You see, too often we treat our church as we would a favorite restaurant. We go only when we have taste for it, and who can eat Japanese, or Italian, or even Mexican every week, right? But we know that table will be there waiting when the mood strikes and we do decide to go back. But my favorite restaurant doesn't depend on my presence the way my church does. This church needs you, your presence, your consistent attention in order to really be church.
If you take no other step as a follower of Christ as a result of this sermon, I urge you to make a commitment to attending to the life of this church more regularly in the coming months. The life of faith may not come easily for you—God knows some days are easier than others, even for me—but I pray that you will do what I do and ask God to give you a taste for this remarkable way of life, this identity, and this work we have been given together. It may not be powerful as the world accounts for power, but it is full of purpose, God's purpose of peace, justice and compassion for us as a community here, in this place, and for the whole wide world.
This is the real privilege, shared with the day laborers, tax collectors, prostitutes, and fisherfolk before us and now even with us: to love and serve God as part of church of Jesus Christ, to labor in the company of such unlikely saints for the transformation of the world. Jesus calls us. How are we to respond? What do you say? Shall we leave our nets before we ourselves are caught up in them? Shall we leave the comforts of the homes we know to receive a new home we can scarcely imagine? Shall we follow where the pilgrim Spirit leads? Shall we become disciples indeed?
Let Christ's church say: Amen.