Scripture: Isaiah 9:1-4, Psalm 27:1, 4-9; I Corinthians 1:10-18, Matthew 4:12-23
Earlier this month, I read a Washington Post article that
left me with a sad, wistful feeling, the feeling of the passing of an era. Sister Frances Carr, one of the last three
remaining members of the Sabbathday Shaker religious community, located in New
Gloucester, Maine, died on January 2 of this year, aged 89. This leaves two aging members of the
Sabbathday Shaker community – Elder Arnold Hadd and Eldress June Carpenter - and
since Sabbathday is the only Shaker community still active, Elder Hadd and
Eldress Carpenter are the last two Shakers left not in only in Maine, not only in
the United States, but on the planet. An
offshoot of the Quaker movement, the group was officially founded in 1747 in
Manchester, England under the name the United Society of Believers in Christ’s
Second Appearance. They came to be
called Shaking Quakers because of their practice of shaking and dancing during
worship, and of course this nickname was abbreviated to the name under which we
know them, Shakers. The movement
believed in celibacy, pacifism, gender equality, and communal ownership of
property. Persecuted
in England, the group moved to the American colonies just a few years before
the start of the American revolution, eventually founding 18 communities up and
down the Eastern seaboard, eventually reaching a total membership of
5,000. Surely their requirement of
celibacy kept their numbers low, but the group sustained itself for well over
200 years through making converts and by taking in orphaned children to raise,
who were given the option at age 18 to leave or to remain in community. Eventually the group stopped taking in
orphans, and membership went into decline – and now the group is at the edge of
extinction, leaving behind a legacy of historical records and theological
writings, simple but sturdy Shaker furniture, and their “shape note” hymns,
meant to be sung without accompaniment.[1] The Shakers and their unique witness and way
of life have had an impact far beyond their small numbers, and their passing
will be an occasion for sadness.
Our Gospel reading today tells the story of the call of
Jesus’ first disciples, which takes place immediately after Jesus’ temptation
in the wilderness. Our reading begins
with a menacing note: “Now when Jesus
had heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee.” Remember that it was John the Baptist who had
baptized Jesus, and perhaps been a mentor to him. As we read last week, it was John who pointed
Jesus out to two of John’s disciples, one of whom, Andrew, introduced Jesus to
his brother, Simon. And now John was
arrested. In today’s Gospel, Jesus sees
Simon and his brother Andrew casting their net into the Sea of Galilee – and he
calls to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” We’re told “immediately they left their nets
and followed him.” Jesus and his two
disciples come across James and John, also brothers, and calls out to them –
and we’re told that “immediately they left the boat and their father, and
followed him.”
Essentially this is the beginning of the Jesus movement, of
which we as Christians are members. Up
until this point in Matthew’s gospel, we read of Jesus as an individual and of
his spiritual nurturing and testing – but now Jesus has followers. As I read this, the word “immediately” just
jumps out at me: immediately they left
their nets, immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed Jesus. As I read these words, the thought comes to
me – who does that? Who sees some stranger
on the shore, hears the guy call out to them, and having heard, drops
everything, and follows the dude? Who
acts like this?
I can tell you who doesn’t act like this – people who
are contented with what they have. Were
Jesus to walk up to somebody who’s satisfied with his or her life, who is, as
my dad used to say, “fat, dumb, and happy”, that person will not follow
Jesus. That person will instead say,
“No, that’s ok, Jesus, I’m ok right here. Thanks for asking, but I’m good.” Clearly Andrew and Simon and James and John
were hungry for something – perhaps something they themselves couldn’t name –
and it wasn’t something that could be caught in a net or landed in a boat. It was something James and John couldn’t find
with their father Zebedee. Jesus spoke
to them in a way that led them to believe that he had something they wanted,
and so they followed.
Now, here’s what Jesus didn’t do: he didn’t set up a building, put in stained
glass windows and an organ, and invite people to come into the building. Now, granted, in last week’s reading, he did
invite Andrew and the other disciple to “come and see” where Jesus was staying,
but Jesus was only staying there temporarily – today we might say he was
couch-surfing - and would soon be on the move.
Jesus didn’t stay in one place – instead, he moved about, called people,
and asked them to follow him – and so, since Jesus was constantly on the move,
if you wanted to hang out with Jesus – guess what - you were going to be on the
move as well.
A few minutes ago, I used a phrase which may have seemed a
little bit odd, a little bit unfamiliar – “the Jesus movement” – but I chose it
intentionally, because the word “movement” contains the word “move”. As in,
“get off your couch and onto your feet and go somewhere and do something.” As church folk we may not think of
ourselves as a movement – we’re much more comfortable in thinking of the church
as a “sanctuary”, a safe haven, as “a mighty fortress” – something that’s sturdy,
protective, and stays in one place, and above all things doesn’t move. When we think of the word “movement” we may
think of various social movements through history – the abolitionist movement,
the labor movement, the civil rights movement, the women’s movement – if you
were anywhere near the Parkway yesterday for the Philly Women’s March, you’d
have seen lots of women and lots of movement – and this word, movement, may
make us uncomfortable, because movements come into being to change things, to
shake up the status quo. And yet, as
Christians, whether we’ve thought of it this way or not, we are part of a
movement, the Jesus movement, that has been changing lives and shaking up the
status quo for 2000 years.
It’s also striking what Jesus didn’t say, at least at this
point in his ministry – he didn’t say, “Worship me.” He said, “Follow me.” Follow.
As in “go where I go, and do what I do.”
And, indeed, Jesus railed against people who called to him “Lord, Lord”
but didn’t do what he told them to do. (Luke 6:46) Granted, at the very end of Matthew’s gospel,
we are told that after the resurrection, Jesus called the remaining eleven
disciples to a high mountain, and they worshipped him, though we’re told that
some doubted. But even then, Jesus
didn’t tell them to build a chapel and invite people there to worship him. Instead, he told them – what did he tell
them? – “Go!” “Go therefore and make
disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the
Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have
commanded you.” And in Matthew 16,
Jesus told Peter – the name Peter means “rock”, “on this rock I will build my
church, and the gates of hell will not prevail against it.” Now, the word “rock” again makes us think of
something stationary, that stays in one place.
But Jesus is referring to Peter – a living person, who moves about. Jesus isn’t giving us a picture of a church
hunkered down in a fortress against some hellish invading force armed with
gates! Armies don’t go into battle armed
with gates. Gates are defensive, meant
to keep people out, like our locked cemetery gate on Almond Street….so instead,
the picture Jesus is trying to give us is of a church in motion, on the
advance, and the forces of evil hunkered down behind gates – gates which, we’re
told, won’t hold up when God’s people are on the move.
Now, it’s crucially important to gather to worship, to
express our praise for God’s goodness, to ask God’s forgiveness for our sins,
to receive God’s forgiveness. Without
some kind of regular gathering to be filled and renewed in worship, our spirits
will wither and our faith will dry up. But
being a Christian – truly following Jesus – isn’t just about sitting in a pew
for an hour on Sunday. Instead, the hour
on Sunday is supposed to prepare us to live our faith the rest of the week. It’s a beginning, not the end. At the end of every worship service, I, or
whoever is leading worship, says “Go forth into all the world to love and serve
the Lord!” Go forth! Go! Forth! –
that-a-way, out the door! - Into all the world!
Or at least, as a start, into all of Bridesburg.
Coming here to worship is safe – though in many countries,
even gathering to worship is a risk. But
going forth as messengers of the Risen Christ – that can be dangerous. Remember that our gospel reading today began
with the arrest of John the Baptist. Because
we know the story, we know that arrest and worse await Jesus himself. We may face opposition as well. The back of the bulletin cover tells of the
risk that one group of believers ran into, right here in the USA, when they
tried to be faithful. And I remember
very well the opposition the Bridesburg Council of Churches got from the
neighborhood when they set up a cupboard at the Methodist Church – the church’s
neighbors didn’t want “those people” standing outside the church on the
sidewalk. We call ourselves a Christian
nation, but when people truly get busy doing the work of Jesus – feeding the
hungry, clothing the naked, opening the eyes of the blind, releasing the
prisoner, preaching good news to the poor - folks who are comfortable get
really nervous. We are part of a
movement, and movements exist to create change, and change makes folks
uncomfortable – and indeed, the role of pastor has often been described as
“comforting the afflicted and afflicting the comfortable”. It’s a role I take seriously.
But the alternative to discomfort is, ultimately, to go the
way of the Shakers, to dwindle to a handful of aging members, and beyond that
to dwindle to no members. As I was reading about the Shakers, it was
striking to me that when the Shakers stopped taking in orphans, their numbers
went into decline, just plummeted off a cliff.
Caring for orphans was critical
to their own survival…just as caring for civil war orphans was a critical part
of the life of this congregation in our early years. We can’t just care for ourselves, be wrapped
up in our own little world, and forget about everyone else. Jesus said that we reap what we sow, that
those who sow bountifully will reap bountifully, and those who sow sparingly
will reap sparingly. To the extent that
we are a blessing to others, we’ll be blessed.
And if we’re not, we won’t. It’s
just that simple.
God’s people are healthiest when we are in motion. The children of Israel originally worshipped
God, not in a temple, but in a portable tabernacle that they carried with
them. After the resurrection and
especially after the Holy Spirit came at Pentecost, the early Christians spread
out from Jerusalem all over the known world of the time – often because of
persecution – taking good news with them wherever they went. The early Methodist church was formed by
circuit riders who went from place to place bringing the good news and planting
churches where they went – and the Methodist church had its greatest vitality
in this period.
“Follow me, and I will make you fish for people,” Jesus
said. For the sake of our neighborhood,
as well as for our own sake, and for the sake of Emanuel Church, may we be
following, and may we be fishing. May
the Risen Christ open our ears to hear his call, and where he leads, may we
follow. Amen.
[1] http://maineshakers.com/history/, https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/morning-mix/wp/2017/01/04/one-of-the-shakers-last-three-members-died-monday-the-storied-sect-is-verging-on-extinction/?utm_term=.92813a421ebe
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