The collect and Gospel for today and last Sunday’s Gospel are about the
call to discipleship. Matthew tells us the story of two sets of brothers, who
met Jesus on the shores of Lake Galilee, left their fishing nets behind, and followed
him. The story, conveyed over a great distance of centuries and widely different
cultures, should caution us against making too many assumptions. Jesus didn’t
just call males or Jewish males, who happened to be fishermen, to be his disciples
nor did discipleship necessarily mean that you separated your spiritual life from
your ordinary work or that you had to leave behind your family and friends. In
the Gospels we have the example of Mary and Martha who lived probably all their
lives in the town of Bethany. Their house served as a home base for Jesus and
his disciples, evidently on more than one occasion. We have the example of Zacchaeus
the tax collector, who presumably made amends for his past corruption and extortion,
but who, from all accounts, continued as the village tax collector. I suspect
the gospel writers took for granted that Jesus calls us in different situations
and invites us to respond and to change in various ways. It was probably so obvious
in those early Christian communities of men and women, that it didn’t seem
necessary to go out of the way to even mention it.
We,
need to emphasize that Jesus invites all to discipleship, assuring us that God
invites each of us to use our particular set of gifts and abilities. The world
may want to interrupt and say, “Ah ha, if God specifically cares about you,
then God surely doesn't care as much about the person next to you.” That’s
how the world usually reasons. But God doesn’t play us against each other,
accepting some of us and rejecting others. Fear of rejection is probably one of
the greatest enemies to discipleship.
The powers
of evil love to use our ego, our pride and self-image to pander to our fear of
not being good enough, of not being accepted, of not being lovable. Think of the
messages out in the world: if you don’t use this brand of soap or this deodorant,
you won’t smell right and people won’t want to be close to you; if you
don’t get good grades, there is something wrong with you; if you don’t
write the great American novel this year, you are a failure, and so forth and
so on. In effect all such forces are relentlessly insinuating that we are basically
nobodies. With all these claims that we are nobodies, we begin to fear that we
probably are. Arrogance, hatred, and aggression fester in such an environment.
Fear of rejection is so destructive and easy prey for the germs of spiritual sickness.
On many week days, the church calendar lists special
people, saints if you will, who in some aspect of their lives, have served to
reflect the Good News of God which later generations have felt to be especially
helpful. We have provided a calendar of such people in our parish newsletter.
Some like Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. are well known and justly honored. This
past week, there were also the names of Wulfstan, Fabian, Agnes, and Vincent.
While they were obviously highly respected and honored by their contemporaries
and later Christians, what we really know about most of them can be expressed
in a short paragraph or two, and all the rest is fashioned by the fog of legend.
Maybe what tradition sometimes tells us is, yes, honor their memory especially
those with whom you can connect, but always remember that Jesus doesn’t call
you to be an exact pattern of someone else. Jesus doesn’t expect you to be
an Agnes or a Fabian. Jesus starts us with fresh new paper and offers to coauthor
with us, the story of our sainthood.
In our midst
are members of our parish family who are especially challenged in various ways.
The world would tell them they have many reasons to be bitter. Often their families
have rejected them, neighbors have made fun of them, they are unable to marry
and have children, and are frustrated that they require assistance for many common
tasks. Yet what we have learned from our ministry here at St. John’s is that
many of those who are challenged, are not sullen, but in their pleasant and loving
disposition, radiate thankfulness. They are so genuinely grateful for the many
small gifts in their lives: a popsicle, a hug, a pet, a Valentine’s Day card,
or a trip to the shopping mall. Can we connect this observation to understanding
what discipleship in the kingdom of God is all about? The invitation to discipleship
is never a way to satisfy the needs and desires that we insist that we must have,
but a way of learning to care about our humanity and about the humanity of others.
The invitation to discipleship is not about strategies for survival or rising
to the top, but about uncovering the meaning and purpose of existence. Jesus offers
us a pattern of celebrating the gratefulness in our lives as opposed to wallowing
in the world’s bitterness.
Sometimes in
the newsletters of other parishes are some real gems. Often they do not supply
credit to the author. This one I looked up on the internet, from where it was
probably was copied, and out of the hundreds of sites that posted this message,
at least two credit the following to a Jill E. Penley (Revised and edited from
“Ten Things God Will Never Ask"), who may be a real person or pseudonym:
