Epiphany 3A-20

Immanuel Lutheran, Chicago

And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (Matthew 4:19). Simon and Andrew, then James and John, heard and followed Jesus. Perhaps they meant to follow only for a moment, or just to satisfy their curiosity. Yet moments would become hours, then days, a week, a season, and finally, a way of life. The disciples followed him and kept following him. They were hooked. They left their nets, their boats, family members, and everything they knew to follow Jesus and never look back.

I don’t even own a fishing pole anymore. I used to go quite a bit when I was a kid. We used worms and jigs to catch Crappie. Fish eggs for trout or anything that looked like a bug if you were fly-fishing. Worms and bobbers made fishing a more relaxing —just cast it out and wait for a nibble. It was also important to know the time fish would be feeding, to recognize the best spots to find them, and how to approach without scaring them away. And of course, even amateurs like me carried a whole tackle box of lures, baits, swivels, hooks, line, and other tools.

What was so enticing and persuasive it had power to transform the lives of the disciples so completely? What was the bait Jesus put on the hook? It could only be one thing, just one Divine Lure in his tackle box— the euangelion—the good news—the gospel. The root from which we get the word, “evangelize.” Jesus cast good news into the turbulent waters of the world to pull people out the pain and suffering caused by hate, fear, hopelessness, poverty, and any other thing that degrades and dehumanizes us. Jesus cast the good news of grace and let the Holy Spirit do the rest.

Where we find him today, Jesus has rejected the comforts of nearby cities like Tiberius and Sepphoris, places you might expect a talented young Rabbi to go. He is searching out fertile fishing grounds among those in need. Capernaum was in the back-water territory of Zebulun and Naphtali. It was the “wild west,” a rough, unruly place frequented by bandits and revolutionaries derided by religious authorities in Jerusalem as uncivilized, semi-literate, and infected by paganism.  It was a land familiar with brutality, poverty, and hunger, a land unaccustomed to hope.

Imagine a place where security and safety are stripped away. Every asset may be claimed by conquerors of the moment. Every child born can be taken by the powerful into slavery. Every harvest can be seized by the mighty. Every hope for the future could be stolen by masters who have the final say. ”This is ‘the land of deep darkness’ into which Jesus journeyed.  (Amy Oden, Dean and Professor of History of Christianity, Wesley Theological Seminary)

That’s the place Jesus went in search of disciples. It was a fertile place to fish for human hearts and minds hungry for hope. Jesus was not interested in their resumes. Simon and Andrew, James and John were not the best and brightest of their generation. The only qualification that is necessary to be a disciple of Christ is to follow him. They responded to the good news, hooked by the divine lure, the fabulous, preposterous message Jesus declared: “The kingdom of heaven has come near.”

The bait Jesus used was his very own life. With this hook Jesus showed them how to live.  Look, we are being drawn out of isolation into communion. Hooked, pulled, fighting, resisting we have become like fish out of water, thrown into a life we could not imagine. The kingdom of God in which we now find ourselves is not a place, or a destination, but a way of life.  Now we finally understand we belong to each other and to all people, our brothers and sisters in Christ, whom God created, named, and loves.

Now, as the body of Christ, we become bait for people like us who are lost and hurting—people like a young boy named Alfredo. When Alfredo was small his house in rural Mexico burned down. His whole family died in the fire. He was left with scars he couldn’t hide. His face and mouth were permanently disfigured. Alfredo didn’t belong to anybody.  Although he was only about ten years old, no one took him in. He drifted from place to place, sleeping and eating wherever he could.

One day, he was drawn by the sound of children laughing. He watched other children play from a hiding place behind a schoolground wall. Later he would tell how he pressed his face up to the bars on the windows to get a better look.  It was a Christian orphanage run by an order of Franciscans. But he was afraid.  He was afraid of rejection.  He was afraid about what the other children might say when they saw him.  Yet he was desperate to find a home. So, one day, Alfredo got up the courage to show himself to the priest. He told him his story. The Priest wanted to take him in but he also knew how the other children might respond. So, he assembled the whole school.  He told them Alfredo’s story and put the decision about what was to be done about him in their hands.

Of course, all the children said, bring him in, we won’t mind.  But the priest warned them.  He said, you’ve never seen anyone like this boy. The grainy, low budget 1969 re-enactment of this story shows the priest call Alfredo to stand before the other children.  A long awkward silence falls over them in the courtyard.  The children stood and stared at Alfredo for a long time.   Finally, one of them, a boy about the same age, steps forward, stood before Alfredo, and declared simply, “You are my brother.”  He took Alfredo by the hand and led him among the other children.

What was it that drew Alfredo? Laughter, play, community, belonging, these are all good news. There is nothing too rough, unrefined, or shameful to bring to this church, these waters, or that table. In fact, these are the very things that draws us to Jesus and make us hungry for the gospel.

We read Jesus went to “Galilee of the Gentiles,” literally, the land of ‘those who are not us.’ We will see the same word appear again, translated as “nations” in the Great Commission Jesus issues the nascent Church at the end of Matthew’s gospel. “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,” (Matthew 28:19-20).  Who are the Gentiles—those who are not us—among whom Jesus moves today? Jesus hooks and draws us together with them into one body, one people, one life. This is the good news. Follow me.