Worship Script - February 7, 2021

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Matthew 4:18-22

I often wish we had the full account of these stories. What did people say? What were they thinking? What were their questions? Real people things!! Where is their humanity?!

Every pastor has a call story—(and if they don’t, they probably shouldn’t be a pastor) And any pastor in the UMC (and likely others) has probably told their call story 800 million times. Seriously. If you feel called you’ll probably talk to a pastor and tell them why you feel called. And I you pursue seminary you’ll have to write your story on your application and any grant or scholarship applications. And then when you go to seminary that’s lie the question after “Where are you from?” So you’ll tell your call story over lunch, and between classes, and in small groups.

And then as you move toward ordination—you’ll be asked to share with SPRC, district committee on ministry, Board of ordained ministry, and then other groups and gatherings. I’ve shared my call story a lot and I’ve heard a lot of call stories and one thing I have never heard is “God called me and I said yes right away.” The common theme among call stories is our inclination to run, God’s persistent invitation, and some final moment of acceptance.

So when I come to today’s passage and the disciples just drop their nets and walk away—I’m suspicious—like, what’s the rest of the story?

I mean, this random dude walks up to you at work and says something rather crazy sounding like “I’ll teach you to fish for men.” And you say “ok!” and go along with it? Really? You don’t have any questions? And you’re normally prone to follow random crazy-talking strangers?!? I’m sorry. But I don’t think so.

As I step into this story, again, (because let’s be honest, when you have a call story you’re also asked to read all the call stories of the Bible—so I’ve seen this one a time or two) but this time I’m looking around for the meat—where’s the other stuff? The details?

I mean it’s as if I ask you to tell me about how you met your spouse and you say “oh yeah, we met in chem class and then we dated, and then we got married.” That’s it? Where’s the story? The funny parts? The awkward parts? The hard parts? The part where you almost didn’t stay together? The part where you proved your love and devotion? I want the story!!

The same is true here. I want the story and obviously, we didn’t have it—but we can imagine. Some would say that’s veering too much from the scripture, but I see it as an enterprise in finding life—in the gospel. Because without it, I’m not sure we can connect with the characters.

So let’s imagine a little—let’s imagine this place—the sea of Galilee—that’s probably the most concrete part of our story since we can find it on a map. We could go there. Some of us have been there. The landscape is likely different than 2000 years ago, the buildings certainly are, but still—we can get some sense of it.

It’s inland with rolling hills and a big body of water—not as large as the great lakes—you can see the other side, but big enough to imagine the big waves that happen during a storm and big enough to offer a pretty big haul of fish. And these men, (again, yes it was men…it just was at that time) could fish from the sore, but more often they would go out on a boat with big nets and cast their nets and haul in the fish.

And then Jesus comes. The way our story reads we’re led to believe he just walked up and invited them to leave everything—their dad, their income, their livelihood, and, honestly, I just can’t imagine it. Think about it—is there anyone you know that, as a stranger, could have walked up and asked you to leave everything and you would have done it?

(Pause)

Anyone? (Pause)

I doubt it. It’s just not who we are. It’s not how we’re wired. We need some kind of relationship, some level of trust and that takes time, at the very least, some intentionality. So, as I imagine, I’m more inclined to think that Jesus approached more like a student—someone who’s curious. Now I don’t think he was faking his curiosity, after all—he was raised to be a carpenter, not a fisherman, and so I bet he came with lots of questions. Here’s how I think of it…you know when someone asks you about something you’re really interested in….they hit your sweet spot—they ask with the right level of earnestness and curiosity and somehow you just end up pouring out all the details (your carpentry, or your cooking, or your research project…the book you’re reading—it could be any number of things, but they ask the right question in the right way and you’re off and running telling them about all the details and intricacies…I imagine Jesus had that power—the power to ask a good question and stay present for the answer….the kind of power that just lured people out of their shell where they could talk for days….the kind of power that builds trust because it says, “This man cares about me. He’s genuine and down to earth and he sees me.”

And I think that after spending that time together when the fishermen felt seen and heard when Jesus understood their passions and their profession that then Jesus could offer this invitation to live differently….to follow him and they might be able to take him seriously.

So what does that mean for us? Well, I think the connection is that we too are called to follow Jesus—but not cold-called by some random dude asking crazy questions, but instead, engaged first by a man who genuinely cares about us. Someone who asks questions— who stays present for our answers, who gets to know us, who learns our vernacular, and then, after building trust and a relationship—then we’re invited to live differently—to follow him.

And if we pause there, it’s important to check in and see if that makes sense to us, and then to see where we think we are in that story. When you think about Jesus, does it feel like he’s some random dude asking weird questions? Or is he someone who’s curious and listening to you, starting to know you? Or does it feel like he’s someone who’s inviting you to live differently? Or does it feel like those things have already happened and you’re in it…following him and watching him and learning from him as part of a deep friendship?

Sometimes in the church, we act like everyone is simply in one category or another like there’s not much diversity among us. But I’d venture that we find ourselves in different places. And that’s perfectly reasonable and ok. And, I’d invite you to reflect on the question: “Where am I as a disciple of Jesus?” Am I a disciple? Am I a follower? Or am I still waiting for this guy to mean something?

Alright, I feel like there’s so much more we could dig into here….but even online I want to honor your time…especially because you can just turn me off…you’re generally far too polite to get up and walk out of the sanctuary, but I know how easy it is to put a video on mute. So, we’re going to pause here….I really want you to think about these things. I want you to pray about them. And then we’ll come back next week and dig in deeper.

If you have a prayer journal—even if you don’t, I hope that you’ll write these down—ask
· Where am I as a disciple of Jesus?
· Am I a disciple? Am I a follower?
· Or am I still waiting for this guy to mean something?
· When you think about Jesus, does it feel like he’s some random dude asking weird questions?
· Or is he someone who’s curious and listening to you, starting to know you?
· Or does it feel like he’s someone who’s inviting you to live differently?
· Or does it feel like those things have already happened and you’re in it…following him and watching him and learning from him as part of a deep friendship?