Sunday, January 26, 2014
They left the boat and their father
Matthew 4: 12-23, NT pages 3 and 4
Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee.
He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:
“Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles – the people who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death light has dawned.”
From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea – for they were fishermen.
And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.”
Immediately they left their nets and followed him.
As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them.
Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.
Sermon
I’ve been asked, as you probably have, about what, if any, sports you played as a teenager. I grew up playing baseball and even made the team in high school, which was a big deal in Cobb County back then, but to say that I played baseball in high school feels like a stretch of the truth and the more accurate statement is probably that I was on the baseball team, that I wore a uniform and watched the games, for in reality I very rarely played.
In most instances, the only time I actually caught or threw a ball on game day was during warm ups. One wet spring day, too early in the season to be warm but early enough for a game, I remember how muddy the outfield was. Despite the mud I worked hard during those pre-game drills because I didn’t have any need to stay dry or to save my best stuff for the actual game, pregame warm-up being the only chance I had to so much as step on the field.
By the end of warm-ups my cleats were drenched, so before the game started I took them off and put on a dry pair of tennis shoes that I had with me.
As soon as I had done so I heard my coach say, “Evans, you’ll start in right field today.”
I had been waiting so long to hear those words, and I sprung off the bench to change my shoes, when over my shoulder I heard him speak again: “Changing his shoes! There’s no time for all that – Jones, you get in there. It looks like Joe would rather stay dry in the dugout than play baseball.”
In our second scripture lesson today, like the second lesson from last Sunday, Jesus is offering an invitation. For those who follow, the lesson is: if you want to be a disciple of Jesus you better have your cleats on when he calls.
The disciples are our model here, as with great immediacy they follow – which can raise some important questions about who it was that they were so anxious to follow and what it was they were so ready to get away from.
I’ve heard it said in Maury County that many have heard the Lord call them to the ministry out in the tobacco field during the scorching heat of summer, as preaching one day a week sounds so much better than working tobacco six days a week.
But it’s not clear that these first disciples are trying to escape from something as miserable as a tobacco field or anything else, as a matter of fact it seems as though they were so compelled to follow Jesus that they willingly leave much of value behind.
That’s consistent with the other accounts of Jesus calling his disciples. Last week we read of three who gave up a full day’s work and whatever pay they might gain for their labor to follow him. In a world of constant effort and continual production, to give up a full day is to give up a lot – but in today’s reading the cost of discipleship may seem even higher – as at the end of the day James and John, the sons of Zebedee, are mending their nets when Jesus walks by: “Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.”
I’ve seen a few boats left behind on the side of the interstate, and I hear that the two best days for a boat owner are the day you buy the boat and the day you sell it, but a boat for these men was the tool that enabled them to work, to support themselves, and to feed their families.
To walk away from your boat was to walk away from your livelihood, or to leave your livelihood for your father to deal with until you got back, if, when you got back, he wanted to have anything to do with you.
Certainly many sons and daughters have walked away from the family business or the family farm despite stern warnings and even tears from their parents. Sometimes they leave “their boats and their father” only to return to it, the challenge of making it on their own in a harsh world fills them with appreciation for a job they’ve always taken for granted. So appreciative in fact that some are willing to hear the words “I told you so” in order to come back to the family trade, never wanting to leave it again.
Others may leave home, chasing after some dream or some love interest, but the chasing and the risk eventually comes to something that makes them happy. Most parents grow to accept such a change in expectation and learn to accept that things don’t always turn out how you want them to but how they are supposed to. In such cases some families end up with more happiness than they ever would have had otherwise.
But there are others – others who in walking away from their father do so much damage that there is no way to pick up where they left off.
That’s the fear that keeps some from following the desires of their hearts or even the call of Jesus himself, as there can be so much pressure for you and me to stay exactly where we are.
I know that feeling well, but I knew that feeling even better when I was a teenager and of age to join the church by taking part in the confirmation class. While our confirmation class is during the Sunday School hour, in the church I grew up in, confirmation was on Sunday nights. My parents would drop me off and I would walk into the church, only to turn around, walk out the door and to a back alley where I would meet my friends. We’d spend the hour not doing much of anything, but whatever it was that we were doing, it made us feel a lot cooler than if we had gone on into the confirmation class like we were supposed to.
My best friend Matt had no intention of going to confirmation class. He told me that he didn’t want to join the church either, as our church had special parking places for visitors that were right next to the front door, and when he got his driver’s license he didn’t want to become a member or he’d be ineligible to use them.
On the other hand, I had a guilty conscience, which eventually led me to leave my friends behind.
I went to the confirmation class, which was the right thing to do – but when the right thing is different from what your friends or your parents want you to do then doing the right thing can seem almost impossible.
“They left the boat and their father, and followed him.”
Do you know how hard that must have been?
But don’t you know that it was exactly what they had to do.
It’s true that sometimes if you want to make something more of yourself, you have to leave behind the people who think that you are just fine how you are.
When they find out that you’re going off to college or back to graduate school, they’ll call you uppity, they’ll ask why you suddenly started acting like you’re too good for everybody, and the question that you’ll have to ask yourself may be a question of priorities: your friends or your dreams?
Then there are aunts and uncles who need to be given ultimatums: either you get quit or you don’t see your nieces and nephews.
There are brothers who can’t be invited over anymore.
There are sisters whose words act like a wedge between husbands and wives.
The question for you is easy enough to say but are you brave enough to give an answer?
And I don’t think that it’s any coincidence that the sons of Zebedee have to walk away from their father. How often has just the idea of gaining or losing his approval shaped your thoughts and your actions? How many times have your turned back or pushed forward because you wanted him to think well of you? What have you given up on because you were afraid of what you might lose in his estimation?
Know that for James and his brother John, just the sight of Jesus made it worth it.
Know that for them there was no second thought and no turning back.
Know that they walked away because when they heard his voice not even their father’s approval seemed to matter.
And he is calling to you now.
He’s calling you away from poisonous relationships. Maybe you stay because he’s better than no one at all, but I tell you to listen to the voice of Christ and know that you will never be left alone.
He’s calling you away from friends who hold you back and he’s inviting you into a new life that brings joy deeper and purer than anything you’ve known before.
And he’s calling you away from trying to gain some approval that you’ll never quite get. Whatever you've been trying to prove and whoever you’ve been trying to prove it to, know that to Christ you are already enough and all you need to do is follow.
Walk away from the boat.
Walk away – and know that if you are following him it’s not what you are walking away from but who you are walking towards, and if you are following him you are walking towards the lights of all creation.
Amen.
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