Travel Plans

When I was in about the fifth grade my best friend in the whole wide world was John Crowder. I grew up in Orange County and John lived on a farm up the road from my house, right along the Rapidan River. I remember spending many a weekend with John when I was young, either at his house or mine, but I especially remember the times I stayed at his place when we got to run all around his folks' farm.

We had great imaginations. One time we took two old cardboard boxes and put them together to make a Skylab and we roared off into space. We'd swing from the ropes in the hay barn and pretend we were Tarzan. We rode this old farm horse he had bareback and made believe we were those fancy riders from the steppes of Asia you see in the circus.

But our biggest fantasy was about the gang from Hong Kong. For several months we had this elaborate game in which we imagined that there was a gang of folks from Hong Kong that was intent on getting us. Now why a gang on the other side of the world would have been interested in two fifth-grade boys in Orange County is another question, but we were convinced that they were. So as we ran across the fields we would watch the sky for signs of the blimp that they were riding in. (I'm not sure why we decided they'd be in a blimp, either.) Near the river was an old abandoned car that we were convinced was where they hid out to spy on us. Of course the river itself was a great place for them to sneak up on us, too.

When John and I couldn't get together on a weekend for some reason, we'd call each other to report any sightings either of us had made. And when we spent the night together we always had our flashlights ready in case we heard a mysterious noise in the night. It was a great mystery, and the gang from Hong Kong never caught us, but the time we spent running from it was sure exciting.
It was wonderful to imagine what life would be like we weren't just pre-teen boys in a backwater county. It was great to think about what life would be like if it were more exciting, if we could leave everything behind to become professional adventurers. There's a part of me that would have gone in an instant if it had meant high adventure.

Now, though, I'm in a much different place in life. I've got two children and I know what other parents meant when they talked to us before Joel and Rachel were born about the joys and the challenges of parenthood. It's a big responsibility to be a parent. You have to think about your children's health, their safety, their education, their development, the financial implications--and pretty soon you realize how hard it is to provide something that we Americans are obsessed with: security.

Now, that's not all bad. Hardly. We need to be concerned for ourselves and our loved ones. It's a natural part of who we are as caring people, but we also run a risk. Our obsession with security also makes it very difficult to hear passages like the one we heard in the gospel lesson this morning.

Did you hear it? What do we remember about it? Peter and Andrew fishing in the Sea of Galilee. Jesus calling them. Maybe we've heard it in church so many times that the image is kind of golden in our minds--like a comfortable movie filmed in the light of sunset when there is a glow and a warmth to the faces. There's strong Peter and there's gentle Jesus easily calling the fishermen from their nets.

When we really hear it, though, this passage is a scary thing. Because if we see ourselves as disciples, (and that is what we Christians tend to call ourselves), then to think that we might be called to leave it all behind makes us think twice and three times about whether we're cut out for this following Jesus business. We like to try to explain away the disciples response. "Maybe they had seen Jesus around before and had seen him do some miracles." "Maybe Jesus just had them follow for a little while without really leaving everything for good." All of that is speculation, though, because the only thing Matthew tells us is that Jesus called and they went.

The story begins with Jesus hearing that John the Baptist had been put into prison. He picks up where John left off, proclaiming the same message, "Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand." Jesus took a different route, however, and everything about him said that his ministry was going to be a very different kind of ministry.

John went into the wilderness, the desert, of Judea, in the south where the majority of the population was Jewish. Jesus went back to Galilee in the north where the majority was probably non-Jewish, it was called "Galilee of the Gentiles". John chose the life of a desert nomad. Jesus settled in Capernaum--a seaside village with activity and life. John was the voice talking about the "pathway in the wilderness for our God". Jesus fulfilled Isaiah's prophecy about "the road by the sea". John was everything you expected a prophet and a rabbi to be. Jesus broke the mold. People came out to see John. Jesus went out to see the people. This was going to a different kind of ministry.

So Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee when he saw Peter and Andrew throwing their nets into the sea and he calls them. It was very simple really. He says, "Come, follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Which is a surprising thing to say to somebody you've just met, but it's no more surprising than what happens next. What happens? Peter and Andrew drop those nets and they follow him. No questions asked.

The second call is probably even more mind-blowing. Jesus finds James and John, brothers, mending their nets in their boat with their father Zebedee. He calls them and--guess what?--they drop those nets, too, and leave their boat and their father, and they follow Jesus.

Now as I read this, I find myself torn between two different parts of myself. On the one hand, I can read it through the eyes of that fifth-grade boy who loved all the adventure on John Crowder's farm and who wondered about what lay down the river and down the road, just waiting for me to come find it. When I think like this, I feel envious of those disciples who were brave enough to chuck it all to follow Jesus.

Then I can read it through the eyes of the adult with a hundred different responsibilities and I can't believe these disciples did what they did. How could they find it so easy to lay aside their work and their families and all that they had built up for themselves? When I think like this, I think that surely this can't be what I am called to do, too!

Then I realize that the figure who changes all of this is Jesus. Jesus was not interested in what Peter and Andrew and James and John had accomplished or in what they had accumulated. Jesus didn't care about preserving what little security they may have had. Jesus saw the people he needed and perhaps he saw the deepest needs and the quiet desperation in their hearts--desperation that they themselves may not have even known they had. Jesus changed this scene dramatically.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, who was a Christian writer who resisted the Nazi movement in Germany and who was executed by them in the last days of World War II, once wrote that "discipleship is not an offer people make to Christ. It is only the call which creates the situation."

Being a disciple is not an offer people make to Christ. It is only the call which creates the situation. Peter and the others could not have known what they needed to offer Jesus. They had not seen his miracles or known his ways. They were at work in their everyday lives, maybe not even aware that there was a place within them that cried out for connection and giving. Then the call came through loud and clear and suddenly they saw exactly what they needed to do.

Jesus can come to us like that. Maybe he's passed our way before and maybe he's called to us before, but we didn't pay attention. Maybe it's a calling we haven't yet heard.

Underneath our layers of security, though--those layers that we have blanketed and muffled ourselves with--behind the masks and roles we hide behind--there is a thirst waiting to be satisfied and a hunger to hear the voice calling us, "Come, follow me." When we hear it it will be like that first sip of a necessary drink and we will hold on for dear life and never let go.

Maybe you've heard that call already in your life and have turned to follow the clear, compelling voice. Maybe you're seeking that call desperately or are concerned about how it will change your life. Maybe you don't even know you need to hear it or know that you don't want to hear it. But I know this: the call will seek you out in the place where you live and work. You can't hide from it and you don't have to travel the world looking for it. When it comes, Jesus will not care about your accomplishments or your accumulations. Jesus will not ask you about your grades in Econ 101 or your ability to tap dance. Jesus will only seek you and Jesus will accept nothing more and nothing less.

Then Jesus will invite you--no, then Jesus will command you--to come and follow and to share in the joy of the good news, because it is good news. Then you can trade in your quiet desperation for inspiration and exaltation because this invitation is for you.

Have you ever wondered what it's like down the road? Have you ever wondered what lies around the next bend in the river? There's somebody there calling you. Come, follow. This adventure is yours. Thanks be to God.

Matthew 4:12-23
When Jesus heard that John had been handed over, he retreated to Galilee. After leaving Nazareth, he came to live in Capernaum-by-the-Sea in the region of Zebulon and Naphtali. This was to fulfill what was spoken by the prophet Isaiah:
"Land of Zebulon and land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, beyond the Jordan:
The people residing in darkness have seen a great light,
and to those residing in the land and shadow of death, light has dawned."

From that time Jesus began to preach and to say, "Repent, because the Kin-dom of heaven is drawing near."

While walking around the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (called Peter) and Andrew, his brother, casting nets into the sea, for they were fishers. He said to them, "Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of people." So, immediately, they left their nets and followed him.

Then, going on from there, he saw two more brothers, James-ben-Zebedee and John, his brother, in the boat with Zebedee, their father, mending their nets, and he called them. So, immediately, they left the boat and their father and followed him.

He traveled around the whole of Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the Kin-dom and healing all the diseases and all the maladies of the people.