Epiphany 3A
Matthew 4:12-23
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.
About 13 years ago as a young adult just out of college, I lived in South Africa for a year serving in the Young Adult Service Corps. It was there that a neighbor invited me to her Bible study and I gladly accepted, not necessarily because I was that eager to study the Bible but more that I was eager to meet my neighbors- not only was I brand new in this town, and not only was I brand new in this country, I was brand new in this whole hemisphere. So I happily showed up to this Bible study where the next youngest person after me was older than my parents.
This Bible study ended up being my first introduction to Lectio Divina, a meditative practice of entering scripture in creative ways. And I specifically remember one evening when this morning’s gospel reading was our focus in Lectio Divina. In one practice, we were invited to choose a character in the story to identify with and imagine the story through their eyes. In this gospel, we have John who’s just been imprisoned by Herod. We have Jesus who moves his ministry not away from Herod but boldly he continues his ministry right in Herod’s territory. And there’s Peter and Andrew and James and John, two sets of fishermen brothers who are called out to become fishers of men.
So I sat there, sipping my Rooibos tea with milk, and listening to these older people with their thick South African accents, it hit me, I was the fish out of water. I was the one swimming on my merry little way when something bigger than myself pulled me to an unfamiliar place where I felt awkward and flailing.
“Come with me and I will make you fishers of men.”
Jesus called Andrew and Peter, John and James to a new life. Immediately they left their nets to follow him. Something pulled them away from their lives as fishermen and led them to a place of vulnerability and uncertainty. There’s nothing to indicate that Andrew, Peter, James and John really “got” this gospel they followed... in fact, they had many questions along the way, some of those pretty dumb questions.
The Gospel reading notes that James and John, the sons of Zebedee, are working on their father’s boat. It’s a minor side note in the Gospel narrative, but I think it’s important in pointing out what the four disciples here are walking away from. The life of a fisherman on the Sea of Galilee — the ongoing rhythm of going out onto the sea, catching a haul of fish, returning to shore, selling the fish, and repairing boats and nets — was not only the only life that these four men had ever known, but also more than likely the only life their fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers had ever known.
This is the family business, something that had been passed down for generations — and yet, when Jesus comes by and asks them to follow him, they drop their nets and walk away from it, to follow a religious leader they don’t really know and a message they don’t yet fully comprehend.
Even if it was a quick decision, I can’t imagine that it was an easy one. I picture Zebedee, standing in the boat with a puzzled look on his face while his sons walk away from the boat following this new prophet into God-knows-what and God-knows-where. Or maybe Peter and Andrew’s mother, pleading with them to stay just one more season to help their father out and then they can think about leaving. But the call of this strange, charismatic man preaching that the Kingdom of Heaven is drawing near, is so much stronger... so they drop their nets and leave with him.
I’d like you to hang onto that idea for a moment, because this story is also about someone who does go into the family business. Remember in the beginning of the story when we mentioned that John was in jail. He was sent there by King Herod — and, crucial context here, the King Herod in today’s Gospel reading, who is also known as “Herod Antipas,” is the son of the King Herod we met a few weeks ago during the Nativity and Epiphany stories. Herod Antipas is also going into the family business of ruling Galilee, which is part of Judea, as a vassal for the Roman Emperor.
Remember what this King Herod’s father did, just a few weeks ago in our liturgical calendar, when he felt threatened by the news of a Messiah: He retaliated by killing every single child in Bethlehem, forcing the Holy Family to flee to Egypt as refugees and wait there until he died.
And so too, when John the Baptizer switches over from preaching that a Messiah is coming to preaching that the Messiah is here, Herod Antipas, the son of King Herod, has a little freak-out. He tosses John in jail, ostensibly (as this gospel tells us later on) for criticizing Herod’s marriage but probably also to send a message to any would-be Messiah out there to keep their head down, lest that head end up on a plate. He’s a bit more politically-savvy than his dad — as the gospel later notes, he doesn’t have John killed because John is really popular and the people think he speaks for God — but it’s a message nonetheless. “I’m not going to let any would-be Messiah take away my gravy train.”
So what does Jesus do? Instead of fleeing away, he boldly heads into the heart of Herod’s territory, in Galilee — and not only keeps preaching in the synagogues and healing the sick, but actually intensifies his message. Note that the Gospel says that “from that time Jesus began to proclaim” to repent because the Kingdom of Heaven has come near. It apparently wasn’t part of his message before, but now it is. Things are happening… the ball is rolling… and there’s no stopping it now.
And it’s in this moment that he calls the four fishermen to follow him and fish for people, to bring people into the Kingdom of Heaven. He calls them out of the only life they’ve ever known, out of where they feel comfortable and know all of the rhythms and rituals of life, and into an unknown future where they don’t quite understand what’s happening and never quite feel at ease, but know that God is calling them to be a part of it.
And that’s what God calls us to do as well, sometimes. Maybe it’s not as radical as leaving behind the family business or the life you know. Maybe it’s something simpler, like striking up a conversation with a co-worker to invite them to come to church, or finding a way to serve the needy in our community. Maybe it’s taking on a new and uncomfortable habit, like praying the Daily Office or joining a small group Bible study. Or maybe it is a major life change that God is calling you to, to leave a place of comfort to find God in a place of discomfort and challenge.
But there’s no doubt in my mind that God is in fact calling to each and every person here today, in some way and on some level — to go deeper and further in our lives with God, to find new challenges and new opportunities, to further the work of the Kingdom of Heaven here in Lebanon, here in the United States, here on earth. I pray that we will all listen to God’s call.
