A sermon by Senior Minister John B. McCall, February 7, 2010
Luke 5:1-11
Last Tuesday, February 2nd, Punxsutawney Phil emerged from his burrow for at least the 115th time, saw his shadow and lumbered back down the hole to wait out six more weeks of winter. No surprise. What did surprise me, however, was the revelation that Phil really has nothing to do with the forecast. Quoting from a recent news article: “In reality, the fifteen members of the Inner Circle, who plan annual Groundhog Day festivities, decide in advance whether Phil will see his shadow, rain or shine.”
I’m terribly disappointed. I’d always thought this ancient ritual that has come from Celtic and European customs, was based on some solid, fundamental truth. Now I learn it’s all a sham. It doesn’t really matter what Phil sees or doesn’t see. Ninety percent of the time they’ll say he sees the light, sees his shadow, and runs back into the darkness. And winter drags on.
I know a lot of people who act that way… they live in the darkness and then venture out and get scared by their shadow and run back into hiding and the winter wears on. By faith we believe and bear witness that God calls us to turn toward the light that shines in the darkness, confident that the darkness can’t put it out. Winter will lose its icy grip; spring may be postponed but never stopped. Earth will have its way. God will have God’s way.
And God calls us to life. And the church gathers us and equips to be disciples in this amazing and complicated world; and we trace it all right back to the story I just read in Luke 5. Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee and called Peter, James and John, simply saying: “follow me.” Luke says they left everything behind and followed. They cast their lot with Jesus – certainly aware even in their enthusiasm that there would be costs in their discipleship. Think of those across the generations for whom discipleship has been very costly:
• The first disciples left everything – their boats, their nets, their livelihoods, their families, their communities… everything.
• Christians in the first and second centuries died in the amphitheatres and in the catacombs of Rome.
• Martyrs across the centuries have been tortured because they wouldn’t deny their Lord;
• Missionaries have faced deprivation, isolation, even arrest because they’ve tried to teach another way.
• Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the German Lutheran pastor martyred by the Nazis, spoke of the Cost of Discipleship and was executed for his part in a plot to execute Hitler.
But I must ask: what has it cost us to follow Jesus?
• Maybe your discipleship has created a strain with your spouse or other family members.
• Maybe you’ve lost a friendship because your wanting to be a disciple changed the way you lived.
• Maybe you’ve lost a spot on the traveling team because your family worships together and keeps Sabbath.
• Maybe you’ve given up something else so you could make a generous, sacrificial gift to the church.
But by and large, discipleship here and now for most us, doesn’t cost very much. Do you suppose that what causes some of us to take our faith so lightly, hold it so loosely, even acting as though following Jesus is like a coat we put off or on depending on the weather?
One of life’s realities is that we treasure more those things that cost us more. I wonder if our faith would be stronger if we faced more challenges because of it? Every one of the original disciples but Judas died either as a martyr or as an exile – cut off, turned away, or cast out because of their absolute conviction that Jesus Christ was Lord and Savior. They couldn’t stop believing it once their lives had been transformed. Would we stake our lives on the same truth no matter what the cost?
But wait… discipleship isn’t only about the costliness of following. Our United Church of Christ Statement of Faith speaks of “the cost and joy of discipleship.” As much as the costs may make our faith dear to us, so, too, do the joys. We dare to believe that God can transform our lives right here, right now… that we don’t have to leave everything behind and become missionaries or move to a monastery. We believe that God works through the life and example of Jesus to shape us into faithful followers. And we believe this transformative spirit is as real today as it has ever been.
Many of us are drawn here by our desire to model our lives on the life of the Great Teacher AND to be part of a “community” of folks who do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with our God. That’s what we mean by the joy of discipleship.
Jesus has called millions of followers across the years but he knew that following him was more than a private, solitary pursuit. He surrounded himself with followers so they could support each other, learn from each other, and pray for each other.
Because discipleship is bigger than all of us. The church is more than the sum of its parts.
• When we gather here for worship and praise, the Holy Spirit surrounds us.
• When we baptize a child the whole community embraces that family.
• When we receive new members, the whole congregation feels the presence of new ideas, new witness, and new spirit.
• When we gather around each other in a time of death or other loss, we know tangibly that we’re not alone or forsaken.
• When we gather for study, prayer, reflection or fellowship, we know God draws closer to us all.
• When we come together for Teams and committees and other working groups we’re part of something much more than just a couple of hours of debate and a list of tasks.
• When we serve a meal to a hungry woman, or put hammer to nail for a low income family, or make a donation for earth-quake ravaged Haitians in a distant place we tell the world that we are followers.
• And when we break the bread and share the cup you and I experience the joy of discipleship, the real presence of the Living Christ who once, long, long ago, walked by the Sea of Galilee and called the fishers to leave everything and to come with him.
I’ve always loved the way Albert Schweitzer expressed it in his wonderful volume, The Quest for the Historical Jesus.
He comes to us as one unknown, without a Name, as of old, by the lakeside, he came to those {men} who knew him not. He speaks to us the same word: “Follow thou me!” and sets us to the tasks which he has to fulfill for our time. He commands, and to those who obey him, whether they be wise or simple, he will reveal himself in the toils, the conflicts, the sufferings which they shall pass through in his fellowship, and as an ineffable mystery, they shall learn in their own experience, who he is.”