Third Sunday After Epiphany
Year A
January 27, 2008
All Saints’ Bentonville
Gospel:
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.
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.
My Dad was a proper fisherman. In his custom outfitted boat, powered by a finely tuned Mercury motor, he would troll along the shores of Lake Whitney, looking for just the right combination of floating log, overhanging branch, or long remembered, and now submerged, limestone drop-off. Then from his weathered, but methodically arranged tackle box, Dad would choose just the right bait from a time honored collection of spinners and jigs. He always cast his line just where he aimed it, not just targeting a particular species, but seemingly a single fish with his name on it.
Fishing with my brother Robert was another story altogether. Quantity, rather than quality, was the name of the game for the big brother I held in such great esteem. Robert was into marginally legal net fishing – seining the creeks and streams that flowed through the valley below our house. After a big rain, when the creeks were swollen with runoff from the surrounding lakes, Robert knew that the rushing waters would be teaming with the prey he sought.
As a skinny, 11 year old boy, I loyally followed Robert everywhere, embracing whatever adventure he had in store for us, or as I later came to realize, for me. The seine, a net perhaps 25 feet across, was lashed at each end to a pole a foot taller than me. Robert stationed himself on the bank of the rushing creek, planting the pole holding his end of the seine firmly in the sandy shore. I was directed to grab hold, with both hands, of the pole secured to my end of the seine, and wade into the flood filled stream. After the first step I would be over my head and hanging for dear life onto the pole, kicking my way against the current, struggling to make it to the opposite shore. – Robert shouting above the water’s roar, “Come on, Rog, you can make it!” Spitting water and tadpoles, I would emerge from the creek and we would hold the net between us, dragging it upstream until the accumulation of fish and brush and trash forced us to circle the net toward the shore and determine the success of our mission.
Eventually lifting the net from the creek’s murky water, our catch was revealed. Flopping onto the muddy shore were catfish, crappie, bass, perch, turtles, frogs, crawdads, and an occasional water moccasin. The nearby lakes had spilled over their abundance of aquatic life and this turbulent stream was the recipient of their excess bounty. My mother, bless her, was willing to cook anything we caught and cleaned, and the family often feasted on the Southern fried fare of a net that was cast widely.
In the next chapter of Matthew, immediately following Jesus’ invitation to the fisherman to leave their old profession behind and begin to fish for people, Jesus reveals just how widely he intends to cast his net. In what we know as the Beatitudes, the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus proclaims that those who are blessed in the kingdom that he introduces are the poor, those who mourn, the meek, the hungry, the merciful, those who seek peace and justice – everyone that the rest of the world reviles and persecutes. It’s a kingdom where the established order is turned upside down. Those who are outsiders are brought inside. Upon hearing this, I can only imagine that these simple fishermen looked at each other and thought, “What have we gotten ourselves into? Maybe we should go back to fishing.”
Let’s look at the world these first disciples chose to leave behind. We tend to think of Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John as iconic figures, larger than life, great heroes and martyrs of the church. The gospel reading today reminds us that they were commercial fisherman. This fishing expedition that Jesus happened upon, as he strolled by the Sea of Galilee, wasn’t the leisurely activity we imagine when we think of fishing in the rivers and lakes of Northwest Arkansas. Commercial fishing is dangerous work. A professional fisherman today is 20 or 30 times more likely to be killed on the job than a fireman or policemen. It was dangerous work in first century Palestine as well. Then, as now, the placid waters of the Sea of Galilee could suddenly erupt into a tempest tossed nightmare for a fisherman caught unaware.
Still, it was their livelihood and it did provide them with a marginal income, and leaving their nets behind was a gamble. But it was more than that. We shouldn’t ever forget that all this “fishing and following” took place in a real world existence, a particular time and place that influenced who these men were and the decisions they made.
Their world was already changing. They lived in an Roman occupied country and Imperial Rome brought with it, not only the heavy handed Roman legionnaires, but a new technology that was already transforming their way of life. Along with their insistence on collecting taxes the widely traveled Romans brought with them knowledge of preservative techniques. Pickling and salting enabled the great catches of carp and sardines to be preserved and shipped to Roman cities throughout the empire. Romans acquired a taste for salted fish. Fish stews and fish sauces were prized as condiments and for their medicinal qualities. And this growing demand for fish was changing the Galilean economy. This globalization, of a kind, presented to the fishermen new opportunities. There were the old demands of a family with mouths to feed and the Romans’ demand that tribute be paid. But there was also a dangling hope, that maybe this new market for fish, would enable these struggling fisherman to taste a bit of the empire’s wealth.
So Simon Peter, Andrew, James and John had something substantial to lose. It wasn’t just that they were walking away from a lousy, dangerous job. They had to give up the hope, even if it was a slim one, that they might succeed in the way that the world measures success – the accumulation of wealth and power.
And Jesus comes along and asks them to leave this worldly ambition behind and fish for people. And as they were soon to learn, the people they were to fish for were the people that the rest of the world rejected. As they traveled with Jesus, they were going to be asked to learn to love in a way that the Imperial Roman economy knew nothing about.
Last Monday we celebrated the life of The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King. Here’s what Dr. King said about the Sermon on the Mount. Speaking in 1957, in Montgomery’s Dexter Avenue Baptist Church, he finished his “loving your enemies” sermon this way: “So this morning, as I look into your eyes and into the eyes of all of my brothers in Alabama and all over America and over the world, I say to you: ‘I love you. I would rather die than hate you.”
In issuing an invitation for the disciples to be a part of “the kingdom of heaven,” Jesus was always providing a glimpse of what that kingdom would be like. The example that rings most clearly, through the life, teachings, and ultimate sacrifice of Christ finds an echo in Dr. King’s words, “I love you. I would rather die than hate you.” As Christians we are called to love those that the rest of the world despises.
It’s why fishing for people is such a dangerous game. Because if we cast our nets widely, as Jesus asks us to do, we are liable to pull in all kinds of strange creatures. And Jesus asks us to love every last one of them.