|
First
Reading
|
Psalm |
Epistle |
Gospel |
| Isaiah
9:1–4
|
Psalm
27
|
1 Corinthians 1:10–18 |
Matthew 4:12–23 |
Frankly, the call of the first disciples in today’s Gospel disturbs me. I’m not particularly fond of the word call. I have a vivid memory of our neighbors across the parkway where I grew up. Every evening, like clockwork at 5:45, the mother of one of our playmates would stand out on her front steps, cup her hands, and yell at the top of her lungs the name of her child to come home for dinner. She had strong lungs and her husky voice could be heard from one end of the neighborhood to the other. If my mother had embarrassed me that way every evening, I would have run away from home and joined the circus, never to be heard from again. If the rest of us children had been more mature and compassionate, we would have all chipped in and bought our poor playmate a watch with an alarm.
I also have reservations about the description of the disciples immediately leaving their nets and following Jesus. As a parent, I recall a fall afternoon when my children and I were raking the lawn and gathering piles of leaves to dump in the woods. Suddenly a kid on a bike appeared and shouted, “There’s a game of hide and seek forming up the street, come and join it.” Before I could say anything, my children immediately dropped their rakes, and off they ran, leaving me with a half-filled cart and an acre of unraked leaves. I know how Papa Zebedee must have felt when James and John left the nets still stretched out to dry on the beach.
However, I don’t think the Gospel reports an historical incident as much as stressing that God’s voice is for real and not a recording. We may choose to ignore it or push it off, but often it is quite persistent and personal. The Gospels are telling us also that God seeks to enter where we are in lives now. God may be found as one searches the library stacks or is on a retreat in a remote monastery, but is also accessible by the hot dog stand on the Commons or in line at the checkout counter at Tops. God seeks to make a difference in our lives here, today!
We expect God to be in spectacular events or at profound times that deeply move us, as if God is confined to the occurrences of thunder and lightening. Yet the voice of God can well be a progressive and gradual thing. It is like forming a close friendship. Sometimes we form an instant close bond with an individual at first sight, but I suspect for most of us, we grow into close friendships.
Yes, in today’s Gospel, James and John seem to immediately drop everything and follow Jesus, but the apostles were clearly special people for a unique task. By in large, Jesus did not urge people to leave their homes. Rather, Jesus preached Good News for people within communities and expected them to be witnesses among their everyday neighbors. Jesus did not only call people together as a distinct group of followers, but he expected all followers to be the bridges to others and to the next generation. I don’t know why it was left out in the Gospels, but I’m sure that Jesus expected all his followers to teach Sunday School at one time or another.
The example of Jesus himself is instructive. We assume that Jesus' ministry was about three years, and that he was about 30 years of age when he began gathering disciples. For most of his life, Jesus apparently stayed at home in Nazareth, worshipping at the local synagogue, and working in the carpentry shop. When he left Nazareth and moved to center his ministry around Capernaum, he did not move far away and break all connections. While he did leave the territory under the direct control of the murderous Herod, in distance, it would be as if Jesus moved from Dryden to Trumansburg. The Sea of Galilee is about the same length as Cayuga Lake is from the lawn of the Boatyard Grill to Trumansburg. Most of Jesus’ ministry was spent in an area comparable to going from North Lansing, around the lake, to Trumansburg.
God does not call us to save the whole world, as much as we are called to be lights of God’s goodness exactly where we are. Our influence on our students, on our colleagues, on our children, and on our neighbors, can be as important as any task of more public implications. Yes, the Gospel is of universal significance, but we are not usually asked to do impossible, stupendous feats in the name of Jesus. Jesus tells us that each day has enough worries and responsibilities associated with it. Pay attention to this day and God will provide us with the strength to respond to tomorrow. God adds depth and perspective to our life’s journey, connecting our past with our future instead of truncating it.
I wonder if we constantly feel guilty for not saving Ithaca, or not yet conquering a catalog of injustices and very real social ills, we are setting ourselves up with a sense of false pride and power, which inevitably leads to spiritual disillusionment. While God may confront us with an unmistakable overpowering presence, there is always the possibility that God will also beckon to us in a quiet and gradual voice, to take things in small pieces, to chew thoroughly, and to digest well.
Jesus was not a workaholic in the ways our culture demands. He took time to get away from the crowds, to pray, to rest. Much of what he taught the disciples remained, in effect, hidden. He healed one person at a time and never sought publicity for it. Jesus was never controlled by a frenetic pace set by the world. Jesus let God set the pace, not the world. Jesus compared Christians to leaven in a loaf of bread, not to a hot red pepper or even a strong bulb of garlic.
There are exceptions, of course. There are certain situations that demand heroic action, and God will sustain us in them. I would suggest, however, that for most of us, most of the time, our call from God is a call to do little things, close to us, in our environment, right at hand. They may be boring and unremarkable, yet in consistently performing them, God’s grace will do the rest.
And I offer this to you in the name of the Living God, Amen.
