Matthew 4:18-25
One of the things you will learn about me is that, when it comes to scripture, I usually want to know more. I want the back story. I want the internal dialogue, the thought processes. I want to know the character’s motivation.
I want to know exactly what caused Peter and Andrew to simply drop their nets and follow. I want to know exactly what went through the minds of James and John when they chose to leave their father alone in the boat with the nets still un-mended.
The scripture says “Immediately.” Immediately they left their nets and followed. Immediately they left their father and followed. How do you do that? How do you leave behind everything—the tools of your trade, your livelihood, your family, your responsibilities!—without even a thought to your future? How do you just walk away because some stranger says “Follow me”? Is there a single one of us who would do such a crazy thing? I have a hard time trusting a new hair stylist!
But here we have four ordinary people choosing to give up everything they know in order to follow a stranger. Of course, we don’t know the whole story. Maybe they thought they were just following Jesus around the corner— like “Hey, come here! I want to show you something!” Surely the decision to actually “follow Jesus” with their lives took a little more time.
My first solo in church, as a young child, was “I Have Decided to Follow Jesus.” That was forty some years ago, and some days, I think I’m still deciding. I’m still trying to figure out if I really want to do what it takes to be a disciple.
Growing up in an evangelical church, I was taught the value of the tithe. In the Old Testament or Hebrew Scriptures we read the instruction to give 10% of the harvest, or 10% of your income. For me, it started at a nickel on my 50 cent allowance. Now, after many years of tithing, I realize that God doesn’t want 10% of our income. God wants 100% of our income. God wants a say in how we spend our money. God wants a say in how we spend our time. God wants a say in how we treat our neighbor—not just the neighbor we like but that annoying neighbor who plays his music too loud or lets his dog use your lawn for a bathroom.
Frankly, giving a particular percentage of your income back to the church is not nearly as difficult as giving God some say in all of it. But God wants 100% of our lives. I don’t think I’m the only one who finds that hard sometimes. We’re not so sure about giving God that much control. Can we negotiate it? Can we give God a say in 50% of our decisions? (Family decisions but not business decisions.) Can we allow God to influence 75% of our habits? (After all, everybody needs a little vice.) Can we reflect Jesus’ love with just 90% of our attitudes? (You haven’t met my ex-brother-in-law.)
Out of curiosity, I googled the phrase “give 100% to God.” I found tons of references to the concept, almost every one of them from our conservative brothers and sisters in Christ. Do progressive churches not believe in giving our all to God? Is that only a conservative or even fundamentalist view?
It reminded me of a list I saw recently called “Hymns of the Lukewarm Church.” It was a long list of familiar hymn titles, adjusted to more accurately reflect our true views.
- Great Is Thy Faithfulness becomes Above Average is Thy Faithfulness
- A Mighty Fortress Is Our God becomes A Comfy Mattress Is Our God.
- Be Thou My Vision? Be Thou My Hobby
- Joyful, Joyful, We Kinda Like Thee.
- My Hope Is Built on Nothing Much
- Praise God from Whom All Affirmations Flow
- Oh How I Like Jesus
- Spirit of the Living God, Fall Somewhere Near Me
- Blest Be the Tie that Doesn’t Cramp My Style
- (and my personal favorite) I Surrender Some[1]
They’re funny, but they’d be funnier if they weren’t so true. What we sing on Sunday and how we live on Monday may be vastly different.
Christ calls us to follow, to leave behind our nets of self-involvement, to leave behind our boats of self-sufficiency, to leave behind the roots of our self-hatred. And we would rather stay where we are than take the risk . . . because make no mistake, following Jesus is always a risk. We may have to change the way we spend our money. We may have to change the way we view other people. We may have to change the way we vote. We may have to change . . . yeah, that’s it. We may have to change.
I read a fascinating article a few days ago. The writer, Rev. Mark Sandlin, bemoans some of the offensive things we see in pop culture, particularly actions by troubled young pop artists seeking attention and television shows that continue to push the margins of decency for the sake of humor. He says the problem is that there are fans who love the bizarre behavior and can’t get enough of shock value television. He writes:
“There seems to be fandoms for just about everything. Unfortunately, it seems to be true of religion as well. More specifically, the Church has turned into the fandom of God when we were supposed to be ushering the kingdom of God – and it is slowly killing the Church. For those who are less than familiar with the term ‘fandom’” he explains, “Wikipedia defines it as ‘a term used to refer to a subculture composed of fans characterized by a feeling of sympathy and camaraderie with others who share a common interest.’ And therein [lies] our problem.”[2]
When you think about what has happened in Christianity within the last few decades, it’s easy to see the man has a point. Too much of contemporary Christianity has become “a subculture composed of fans characterized by a feeling of sympathy and camaraderie with others” like them. Surrounded by their fandom, they see the world through very limited lenses; they see persecution where there is none; and they castigate anyone who believes differently. This isn’t building the kingdom of God; it’s building the fandom of God.
Rev. Sandlin goes on to say: “The ultimate downfall of the fandom of God is that it creates a self-appointed, elitist community too concerned with regulating [and] disciplining, and congratulating itself to invest the appropriate amount of time outside of its physical and self-imposed walls.”
Ouch, right? Good thing it’s not about us. It’s about those other churches, not us. We in the liberal church, for the most part, are not guilty of this. We are not just fans of God.
No, we are fans of Jesus. We love what Jesus did: he went around healing the sick and feeding the hungry, associating with sinners and welcoming the outcasts. We love that about him, and rightfully so. But being a fan of Jesus doesn’t make us a follower. “Liking” his Facebook page doesn’t make us a friend. And doing good deeds doesn’t make us a disciple.
Having spent time at both ends of the Christian spectrum, I believe that one of the differences is where we start. Conservative Christians start with belief, with faith.They start with a relationship with God or Jesus. And, at its best, that belief, that relationship, empowers them to love as God loves and to do as Jesus would do. More liberal churches, on the other hand, start with action. We do the things that Jesus did: we try to heal the sick (or at least help them find healthcare), we feed the hungry, we welcome the outcasts. And at its best, that action leads us into deeper relationship with God.
But too often we stop before that happens. Too often we do all the right things of following Jesus except getting to know Jesus, having a relationship with the risen Christ or the Spirit or the Divine Breath or whatever imagery and name works for you. If we are going to be true followers of Jesus, if we are going to leave behind our nets and our boats and our little pocket of safety, then we need to know the one we are following.
I have to tell you: I haven’t been sure why I chose to preach on this text this morning. It wasn’t part of the lectionary, the cycle of scriptures we usually use. It isn’t one of my favorites texts of all times. It’s not a typical choice for a pastor’s first Sunday in a new church. In fact, it actually concerned me a little because I am your new leader, and I did not want to imply, in any way, that following Jesus means following me. I know better than to compare myself to Jesus, and besides, I don’t like where his road ended!
This scripture isn’t about me. But it is about us. It is about our journey together. We are called to be disciples, but we also are called to journey together in this place and time. Now, I doubt that we do much of anything “immediately” as the disciples did. We are Congregationalists, after all, which means it often takes four team meetings and a congregational vote to change the proverbial light bulb. So we may not make decisions “immediately.” But the call is still urgent: the call to do, yes, but also the call to be; the call to action, but also the call to relationship.
“Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people. So his fame spread throughout all Syria, and they brought to him all the sick, . . . and he cured them. And great crowds followed him from Galilee, the Decapolis, Jerusalem, Judea, and from beyond the Jordan.”
We choose to follow—to proclaim the good news, to offer the cures of hope and grace to others and to ourselves. Our fame may not spread throughout all Scarborough, much less Syria! But we will be followers of Christ – in faithfulness and faithlessness, in communion and community.
And we just may need to leave some safety nets behind. Amen.