Fishers and Fish Food

Mark 1:14-20
Jonah 3:1-5, 10

Both our Old and New Testament texts for this morning continue the theme that Randy preached last week. The texts he read were about being called out by God. You may have noticed a similar theme today.

Jonah is one of my favorite prophets. Perhaps even one of my favorite books in the Hebrew Scriptures. Our text today is from the end of the story, so let’s do a quick re-cap.
Jonah is called by God to head to Nineveh, which is the modern city of Mosul, where we are fighting in Iraq. He’s called there to preach a message of repentance. Jonah, like all good Israelites, hates the Ninevites. They are Assyrians. They have a nasty habit of invading and occupying Israel. They are enemies. They do not follow the God of Abraham. So Jonah has good reason to hear God’s call and say, “sure, whatever.” He then boards a ship bound for Tarshish, which is fine, except it is in the opposite direction from Nineveh.

Perhaps Jonah thought God only wanted him to say he’d follow God’s call. Perhaps following through on the call wasn’t so important to God. In any case, you know what happens next—Jonah ends up in the belly of a fish. For 3 days. And he prays to God. Not the best prayer. He sort of begs while he also blames God for it all. But God answers his prayer and Jonah is unceremoniously spewed onto the beach.

And the word of the Lord comes to Jonah a second time. Jonah knows enough to follow the call this time, no matter his distaste for Ninevah. And he preaches a message that is devoid of grace or anything we would call Good News. “Forty days more and Nineveh shall be overthrown!” You get the sense that Jonah had a big smile on his face as he was announcing that news—looking forward to having a ringside seat to the overthrow.

But then these Godless heathens repent. All of them. The entire city. 120,000 people! And Jonah is just disgusted. “Are you kidding me? You’re going to save these people? They aren’t kosher. They don’t come to church on Sunday. They don’t know the Torah. And furthermore, I don’t like them!”

It is really a beautiful piece of writing, because Jonah takes what is Israel’s standard praise of God and turns it into a complaint. In the passage right after what we heard this morning, Jonah tells God, “For I knew that you are a gracious God and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love, and ready to relent from punishing. And now, O Lord, please take my life from me, for it is better for me to die than to live.” This is Woody Allen writing scripture.

But here is some of the good news in this passage:

--God does not call us because we are perfect people. God calls Jonah, not once but twice, despite Jonah’s complaints, disobedience, and bad attitude.

--God’s ability to save people does not depend on the eloquence of our speech. The people of Nineveh don’t repent because Jonah is charismatic and well spoken. They seem to repent despite his mean spirit and bad attitude.

--Jonah didn’t, at first, see this next one as good news, but here it is. God doesn’t hate the same people we hate.

--And the good news is not just good news for the people of Nineveh. When God calls Jonah to Nineveh, it ends up being good news for Jonah as well. I invite you to read through this book during the week. It is short—just 4 chapters. But God and Jonah have an interesting conversation. The text doesn’t clearly tell us what happens to Jonah after the conversation with God, but it is our experience that encounters with grace can change people. When you realize that you’ve been loved, in spite of being unlovable, your heart expands a little. You understand that there is more room in it than you thought.

And we, like Jonah, are called by God too. Our lives may not be as dramatic. We may not be eaten by a fish. We might just be minding our own business, repairing our nets so we can go back to work fishing.

Wait. That sounds familiar. Where have I heard that? Oh yeah. The gospel lesson this morning. Jesus is walking along the shore of the Sea of Galilee and he sees Simon and his brother Andrew fishing. He calls them to join him. He also calls James and his brother John.

Notice that there is nothing in the text that suggests there is anything remarkable about our 4 men who are invited by Jesus to follow him. As far as we know, they weren’t selected because they were famous, or because they were rich, or because they had the ear of the emperor, or because they were better human beings than everyone else.

It appears they were called to discipleship because the time was fulfilled and the kingdom of God had come near. Which is good news for us. It means that the kingdom of God is not dependent upon our success. The kingdom of God is already here and is what calls us into discipleship. How would we see the work of the church if, rather than being worried about succeeding and growing so the Kingdom of God can arrive, we instead saw the work of the church as living in response to the Kingdom arriving? In other words, we aren’t called to fish for people to make some quota for God, but just to be who we are called to be.

The translation of this text from the Greek obscures part of Jesus’ call to the disciples. The NRSV (and most other translations) read, “I will make you fish for people.” The Greek text more closely translated would read, “I will make you become fishers”. The difference is that the NRSV makes it sound as if Jesus is calling us to a task, to a job. The Greek makes clearer that he is calling them to a new identity. It isn’t so much that they have one more new job to do, but that the whole identity of their lives have changed.

Because what did Simon and Andrew do in response to Jesus’ call? They didn’t say, “sounds great. We have a few hours on Sunday and maybe Tuesday nights for committee meetings that we can give to you.”

They immediately left their nets and followed him. All of the work and money they invested in fishing for fish was abandoned on the seashore as they went off to this new identity. They may not have had any particular “fishers for people” skills or qualifications, but they recognized that the trappings of their former lives would only get in the way. 50 pound test line and a nice fly reel were not going to help them live into their new identity.

And the brothers James and John didn’t just leave their nets, they left the family business. The fleet of “Zebedee and Sons” fishing boats are left with their father and the hired hands. Zebedee is going to have to redesign his business logo to “Zebedee but not his ungrateful sons who abandoned him.” James and John walked away from family, family and societal expectations, and likely their inheritance.

So, it appears that we are being called to a new identity, not just a new hobby, in Christ. And to figure out what that looks like, I invite you to spend time in Mark’s gospel this year. The preaching lectionary will move us in and out of Mark’s gospel over the course of the year. And next week, the adult class will begin a study of Mark’s gospel on Sunday mornings. What we’ll discover is that these people who have responded to Jesus’ invitation will witness unclean spirits being rebuked, sick people being healed, lepers being restored to health, Jesus challenging and teaching, and the journey to the cross. “Follow me,” Jesus says, “and I will make you become fishers.” This isn’t one more task Jesus wants to add to your life. This is a whole new way of seeing yourself.
Amen.

Remember Your Baptism

Sermon
Southminster Presbyterian Church
January 11, 2009

Genesis 1:1-5
Mark 1:4-11

The Christian New Year didn’t begin on January 1. We began our liturgical New Year on the first Sunday of Advent, right after Thanksgiving. Our year begins in preparation for Jesus’ birth and Christ’s return. After Christmas, we moved to Epiphany and today, before we head into the Common Time of our calendar, we celebrate the Baptism of Jesus by John in the River Jordan. We talked last week about how the gospels didn’t agree on the details of Jesus birth and early life, but they all agree that Jesus was baptized by John and they agree that his baptism inaugurated the beginning of his public ministry.
So, this morning, we’ll consider Jesus’ baptism and we’ll consider our own.

John the baptizer was preaching a baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sin. And Mark tells us that everyone came. Which seems sort of odd to me. I imagine you could draw everyone to the opening of a nightclub if George Clooney were going to be there. But I have a hard time imagining everyone coming to repent of their sins. But, there they were. And John had told the crowd, “I’m only baptizing you with water. Someone more powerful is coming after me and he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.”
But then that someone more powerful shows up, not to baptize, but to be baptized. And there is nothing in the text to suggest that he went to the First Class check in line either. It appears that Jesus showed up in the midst of everyone else from Judea. And after standing in the long line, he was baptized by John.
But his baptism was different from the rest, we presume. Because after his baptism, the heavens were shredded apart and the Holy Spirit descended on him like a dive bombing pigeon.
And the voice. A voice from heaven says, “You are my Son, the beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

Yet another one of those moments I wish I had been there to see for myself. What did everyone else hear when the voice spoke? And did it scare the dickens out of them?

Some how, some way, the separation between earth and heaven collapses at the baptism of Jesus. Much like the first creation account in Genesis 1.
In the beginning, God.
The earth was a formless void and darkness covered the face of the deep, while the spirit of God swept over the face of the waters. Then God spoke. “Let there be light.” And there was light.
God speaks and things change.

God speaks creation in Genesis as the Spirit of God moves across the waters. And then, as Jesus comes out of the waters of baptism, God’s spirit again moves across the waters, as God speaks words of blessing. “You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased.”

One very radical notion we hold as Christians is that in baptism we are joined with Christ in his baptism. But how many of you (no need to raise your hands) hear those words, “You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased” and believe them?

Because you should.

But it is my experience, in the way we treat each other and in the way we treat ourselves, that we don’t. We have a hard time internalizing this message from God.
So, take a moment and think about God saying those words to you.
You are my beloved. In you I am well pleased.


That may not have been enough time for you to really take it in, but come back to it this week. When you catch yourself in self destructive acts, hear those words. When you doubt your giftedness, hear those words. When you catch yourself believing that you deserve to be abused, or forgotten, or second best, hear those words.
Because the implications are big. When we don’t believe that we are God’s beloved, we engage in self destructive behaviors. We treat ourselves as less than. Of course, we also have problems if we believe that we are God’s ONLY beloved. What would be the possibilities if we treated ourselves and treated everyone else as if our baptismal promises were true?

Baptisms often seem to be cute and innocent events. Sweet babies in their grandmother’s gown, adoring family all around. And that can be a part of baptism. But baptisms are not tame events. At baptisms, God breaks into our world, shredding the barrier between heaven and earth. We come up out of the water as new people, reborn and claimed as Christ’s own for the world.

Baptism is one of two sacraments in the Presbyterian Church. The other one is Communion. The word “sacrament” is the Latin translation of the Greek Word “mysterion”, from which we get our word “mystery”. Mysterion refers to God’s direct action in space and time, which is baffling to human experience and understanding. Augustine, a 5th century church father from Northern Africa, described sacraments well when he called them, “visible signs of an invisible grace.” So, when you see a baptism or take communion, you might consider how the things you see, touch, and experience in those sacraments stand in for greater mysteries that are not visible. Love. Grace. Redemption. Adoption. Inclusion. Mercy.

The Catholic Church has seven sacraments. During the 1600’s the Protestant traditions narrowed sacramental understanding down to the two sacraments we have today in our church. They did this because those were the two sacraments that Jesus participated in and called his followers to participate in as well.
We have inherited a tradition that claims that while something real and important takes place in the sacraments, it isn’t the sacraments themselves that we should be worshipping. Rather than getting hung up in where this particular water came from, or some other details of the mystery, we believe that the sacraments point to the mystery of God. It is God who chooses to reveal Godself to us through these experiences.

This water is not magical. It came from the tap in the communion prep room, right next to my office. But “the water that is used symbolizes three accounts from the Bible's Old Testament: the waters of creation, the flood described in the story of Noah, and the Hebrews' escape from slavery in Egypt by crossing the Red Sea. All three stories link humanity to God's goodness through water.

Baptism signifies:
* the faithfulness of God,
* the washing away of sin,
* dying to this life and being reborn into New Life in Christ,
* putting on the fresh garment of Christ,
* being sealed by God's Spirit,
* adoption into the covenant family of the Church,
* resurrection and illumination in Christ.”

It is said that Martin Luther found great comfort in remembering his baptism. In times of despair, he would tell himself, “I am baptized.” This act of remembering your baptism can be powerful if it connects you back to the faithfulness and grace of God. Remembering your baptism doesn’t necessarily mean remembering the moment you were baptized. Many of us were baptized as infants and cannot call to mind that day. But the word remember has an additional meaning. At the Last Supper, Jesus tells his disciples, “do this in remembrance of me”. When we say those words during communion, we don’t just mean “remember that day 2000 years ago when we had dinner with Jesus”. The word has a more active meaning, where remembering means making present through enactment. Remembrance is taking that event from the past and making it real again today in the present.

In the French Refomed Church, during an infant baptism, the Minister holds the child and speaks to the child. “For you, little one, Christ came. For you little one, Christ died. You know nothing of this, but we will continue to teach it to you until you confess it yourself”.


That is “remembering our baptisms”. When we baptize infants, and when we renew our own baptismal vows, we call to mind all of the promises made at baptism, so that they will become real for us. So that our children will grow up to confess it for themselves. So that the mystery of God’s interaction in the world will be visible to us in ways we can touch, feel, and see.

This week, I invite you to take home your baptismal "water" (we had earlier passed out glass stones that had been in the baptismal font) and remember your baptism. To consider that you are God’s beloved child in whom God is pleased. For you, Christ came. For you, Christ died. We will continue to teach it to you until you can confess it yourself. Amen.

Home By Another Way

Ephesians 3:1-6
Matt. 2:1-12

A Sermon preached at Southminster Presbyterian Church
Boise, ID
January 4, 2009

Today we are celebrating Epiphany. This is an ancient Christian celebration, dating at least as far back as the 300’s. And it is the day we celebrate the arrival of the magi, or the Eastern Wise men who came to visit Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. January 6 is the actual feast day of Epiphany, which is also, if you count it up, the 12th Day of Christmas.
This word comes to us almost directly from the Greek.
“Epi”, meaning ‘on’ or ‘upon’, and “phaneros”, which means ‘visible’, ‘apparent’ or ‘manifest’. So, an epiphany is more than just a “lightbulb” moment, or an “aha!” moment. An epiphany is something that is revealed to you. Something where light shines and makes something clear and manifest. The magi received the epiphany for all of us. They saw God made flesh and saw salvation for all people.

So, we have this text from Matthew about visitors from the East. Yet we don’t know much about them.
Here’s an image that you have likely seen on Christmas cards.

Can anyone tell me their names?
How many of them were there?

Here is an image of 2 men visiting Jesus. It is on a sarcophagus at the Vatican and dates from the 3rd century. I like this one because the baby Jesus clearly wants to get his toddler hands on those presents.
This next photograph (photo credit to Nina Aldin Thune, at the Basilica of Sant'Apollinare Nuovo in Ravenna, Italy) is from a 6th century mosaic in Italy, which suggests that the names of the magi had been attributed early on. There they are at the top—Balthasar, Melchior, and Gaspar.

The Greek text just calls them “magi”, which referred to a caste of astrologers in Zoroastrianism, a religion in Persia. The word “magi” is where we get the word “magic”. The biblical text doesn’t give us their names and we don’t know how many of them there were.
Their story is not related in any of the other gospels. Mark and John don’t talk at all about Jesus’ birth or childhood. Luke, in the texts we have heard the past few weeks, tells us about Bethlehem, the star, and the shepherds, but he makes no reference to the visitors from the East. Only Matthew gives us this story.

And while Matthew and Luke as Gospels share some similarities, they are very different in their birth narratives. Matthew begins his with the genealogy of Jesus. He barely makes reference to the actual birth—no stable, no Roman census, no shepherds. In Matthew there is no reference to Nazareth as the home of Mary and Joseph. If you read further ahead in Matthew, the family will re-settle there, but only after fleeing to Egypt. The magi come to visit them at their home in Bethlehem, when Jesus is about 2 years old.

Before we leave the images, I have one last image to share—my favorite magi image, from a Christmas card I received a few years ago. It shows 4 men on camels. Three of them are following the star in the sky. The fourth one is following Elvis and his caption reads, “I’m going to follow this star.”
Neither Matthew nor Luke, of course, make any reference to Elvis, but I think this is a question worth pondering.
Which star are we following?

For all we do not know about the magi, we do know they followed a star that led them to Jesus. Unlike the magi who followed Elvis, they didn’t just see this star and decide, “hey! That one looks interesting—let’s go this way!” No, they had been studying the star charts, and had been reading prophecies, and they had prepared for that moment. So, while God can make Godself manifest to people in many ways, for the magi, they were present for the epiphany, for the revelation of Jesus as savior of the world, because they’d been studying. So, if an epiphany is something you think you could use in your life right now, let me make a not so subtle connection. It might not happen if you just sit around. It might involve you studying and preparing for it.

I know that some of you are involved in regular Bible study—either through Presbyterian Women, or the Sunday morning or evening classes. But this church statistically has a low participation in Adult education. You don’t have to be studying here, but I hope you are studying somewhere. And I hope you have opportunities to study with others. While we don’t know how many magi came to see Jesus, we know it was more than one. Studying in community can be a great experience. This coming year, we’ll be beginning new opportunities for small group participation, Sunday morning classes, and other things as the interest surfaces. Please consider joining.

And while the magi studied and prepared so that they’d be in the right place for the epiphany, they did more than just study. If looking at their star charts was all they did, they wouldn’t have seen Jesus. Study will only get you so far. After study, you have to go out into the world.
Study prepares you for what you encounter in the world.

And the magi encountered quite a bit. They left Persia and journeyed to Jerusalem. They met King Herod. They went to Bethlehem, where they, like the shepherds in Luke, saw the star stopped over the family and they bow down and worship him. Persian astrologers bowing down before a poor Hebrew baby. Quite a change, I would imagine, from their routine at the university.
But, of course, the epiphany was only the beginning of the changes for the magi. And not all changes are easy. The epiphany of a child born as king in Bethlehem shook the palace in Jerusalem. The world responds when God breaks into the world—and it isn’t always peaceful. I invite you to read ahead in Matthew this week and see how the powers of the world responded to the epiphany.
The magi were warned in a dream not to return to Herod, so they left for their own country by another road. But Matthew doesn’t say what happened next for the magi.

Did they make it home?
And if they did make it home, what was it like to return to their routine?
We don’t know what happened with the magi, but we do know that once you encounter Jesus, you travel on different roads. Epiphany is about God coming to us in ways we would never have predicted on our own. Because, really, if you can come up with the idea on your own, then what need do you have for epiphany? And, post-epiphany, you don’t travel the same roads, you go home by another road.

For Americans who are becoming more and more accustomed to maps, GPS navigation, On Star technology, and cell phones, we don’t, perhaps, still have the same level of anxiety about setting out on new and different roads. If I get lost, I am fairly confident that I’ll be able to call for help.
So, to make the image work, perhaps we should consider other metaphors. We are at a New Year. While the pundits are making predictions for 2009, we too are wondering where this road will lead. Will we have peace in the Middle East, or just more and more bloodshed? Will the economy rebound quickly? Will things be different with a new administration in Washington? Will I keep my New Year’s resolution for more than a week? 2009 is another road and what is around the corner remains to be seen.

As we journey into the coming year, we will, like the magi, be “going home by another road”. One we’ve never traveled before. I look forward to traveling down it with you, thankful that God has put us together in this time and place to be magi together.
What star will we follow as we journey? How will we prepare?

John Bunyan put it well in Pilgrim’s Progress:
“And I said to the man who stood at the gate of the year,
“Give me a light that I may tread safely into the unknown.”
He replied, “Go out into the darkness and put your hand into the hand of God. That shall be to you better than a light and safer than the known way.”
Blessings to us all on our journey.
Amen