The Rev. Dan Rondeau
St. Margaret's Episcopal Church & School
Amos 3:1-8 | Psalm 139:1-11 | 1 Corinthians 1:10-17 | Matthew 4:12-23
"Give us grace, O Lord, to answer readily the call of our Savior Jesus Christ and proclaim to all people the Good News of his salvation…." The Collect for the Third Sunday after the Epiphany
Let me begin by telling you something you already know: the Bible is filled with dramatic moments of encounter. God and humans meet in dramatic fashion and with everything at stake. In today's Gospel: will Jesus risk it? Will Jesus ask Peter and Andrew to follow him? Will they leave everything in order to follow him? What will happen if they do? What will happen if they don't follow?
Truth, in story form, needs drama. The Bible is filled with drama. The Bible is filled with stories, filled with the truth we need to cooperate with God's desire to be united with us—forever. In your life and mine, the truth of the Bible is played out, just as it was for Peter and Andrew, James and John, a little less dramatically, perhaps.
In the Gospel story we look on in wonder as Jesus begins his ministry by calling disciples to learn from him and assist him in his work. We learn of God's habit of showing up in the workplace. The moment of epiphany, the moment of encounter, the moment of realization and decision, comes in the workplace, not in the church, not on a mountain top, not on a spiritual retreat, but in the every day routines and familiarity of the workplace.
We learn, again, of God's willingness to take a risk. Jesus' words are words of invitation, for they carry no threat. Jesus invites. He invites a response of acceptance or rejection, but without any threat to coerce acceptance; God speaks clearly and leaves lots of room for decision-making.
God doesn't use a lot of words. "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people."
It is an amazing moment in the history of salvation. It is recorded for our benefit. As we share the living Word of God in our worship each weekend we do so knowing full well that more of the same is what we can expect.
We can expect God to show up in our workplace, in the everyday settings of our lives. We can expect God to risk it all on us. We can expect God to invite a response, not coerce a response. We can expect God to speak clearly and simply.
As he encountered Peter and Andrew, James and John, so will God find a way to meet us and invite us to follow. As we know, the rest of the story of Peter and Andrew, James and John includes learning from Jesus and being sent by Jesus to share what they have learned about God—that is the rest of our story, too.
Our encounters are usually not as dramatic as that recounted in today's Gospel. They are more like the story of Jana, a nurse, a Christian who had encountered Christ and knew Christ and worked to be as Christ-like in her nursing as she could. Her story illustrates another truth revealed in Scripture: after the first calling from God, expect God to deepen the call, to ask you to trust a little more, to risk a little more yourself, to stretch yourself in love.
Jana was excited to be working in a clinic setting again, with two doctors she really respected. She felt like she was "home."
Her first evening at the clinic a young mother came with her 18-month-old son. He needed his final shot for a routine immunization; his mother came for a physical. Both patients were new to the clinic.
Jana gave the boy his shot, and his mother took him back to the waiting room, where his sister and grandmother sat. The mother then went back to the room for her physical. When Jana went to record the vaccination on the boy's chart, she noticed that the seal on the vial inside her lab coat was unbroken. Jana quickly realized that she had given the boy the wrong vaccine.
She had given him a shot from a different vial—a routine vaccination for children, but the boy had already completed that series of shots months earlier.
When she realized her mistake she quickly went through a tumble of thoughts—her moment of new encounter with Jesus, I believe.
"No one will ever know. No harm done."
"I can't tell the doctor."
"This is my first day on the job."
"The doctor will think I'm incompetent."
"It can't hurt him, can it?"
"It doesn't hurt to be immunized twice for the same thing."
"But he needs the right vaccine."
"What will the mother say?"
"C'mon, no will ever know."
"But I will always know, and so will God."
While the doctor was examining the boy's mother Jana was pacing outside the room; in her workplace, alone with her thoughts and in the presence of her God.
I believe that much of Christian character is formed in these ordinary moments. You and I have been formed in moments like Jana's. Too often, following Jesus is cast as a series of big things with high drama, like Peter and Andrew at the sea's edge. Following Jesus becomes "big;" the big decision to be more committed, the big decision to forsake all and become a missionary, the big decision to become a deacon or priest, the big decision to do big things for God. The truth is, encountering Jesus, hearing his invitation to follow and making a choice is more like Jana's story—an ordinary event (or mistake in this case) in an ordinary life in an ordinary setting.
In these quickly passing moments, in these quiet "wrestling with God" moments, the light and love of God are as intense and life giving as in the "big decisions" made and recorded in the scriptures. From those stories we can expect that the encounter with Jesus will come in the least likely places and at times we feel the least prepared. The encounter may come in the midst of everyday routines. The truth told in today's Gospel, the truth known in your life and mine, is that the moment of encounter with Jesus will come. The truth told in today's Gospel, the truth known in your life and mine, is that the invitation to follow will be God's and the choice to follow or not will be ours.
Just so you know, when the doctor walked out of the room, Jana told him her mistake. After pausing a moment, the doctor walked back into the room and told the mother what happened, and asked her to schedule another time for her child's immunization. Jana kept her job had her anxiety relieved and she felt free.1
In a few moments we will baptize Sierra, Mitchell, and Brianna Kindred, triplets, soon to become part of our parish family, the only set of triplets to be baptized in my years at St. Margaret's. In the history of salvation I suppose their story may not be counted as profound as the story of Peter and Andrew, James and John. As we become part of their story, and as we together add their story to the history of salvation we do so with the certainty that Sierra, Mitchell, and Brianna are as precious to God as were Peter and Andrew, James and John. God will risk everything again, asking them to follow—even as he risked inviting Peter and Andrew, James and John to follow, even as he risked inviting you and me.
The birth and life of Sierra, Mitchell, and Brianna are as treasured in heaven as is the birth and life of Mary, the Mother of Jesus; their birth and life is as precious as that of John the Baptist, who pointed the way to Jesus; their birth and life is as precious to God as the life of Peter and Andrew who became the first to be called and the first to choose to follow Jesus. Sierra, Mitchell, and Brianna remind us: we are the treasures of God's heart.
I believe that the decision of Mitch and Leslie to present their children for baptism, their decision to raise their children in "the Christian faith and life" is not a "big thing" as the world counts "big things," but I know they are big things, big decisions, in the lives of Sierra, Mitchell, Brianna. They are big decisions in our life as a parish. Mitch and Leslie your presence here this morning is a joy.
Mitch and Leslie, because you know God's love you present your children to be baptized, to become part of the family dear to God's heart, held together by God's love. You want to share this important knowledge with your children. As they grow they will learn—each in their own way—about God's habit of constantly seeking entrance into their lives and their hearts. Today you will speak for them—like others may have spoken for us long ago—"yes, I will follow." As your children grow each will find his or her own voice to respond to God's constant invitation to follow and God's constant desire to send them out to tell others in order to bring them into the family.
Children, though you can't yet understand me, I encourage you: pay attention. Friends in Christ, as I encourage these children, I encourage you: pay attention. Remember, as you witness these baptisms, our God is constantly seeking entrance into your life. Our God is constantly inviting you to new and more profound levels of relationship with him. Pay attention.
Sierra, Mitchell, Brianna, I entrust a prayer to your parents, and to you. It is a prayer I learned from another man of faith. It speaks well. May it become your prayer as you grow in the knowledge and love of God. Friends in Christ, I hope you, too, will be able to make this your prayer as you grow in the knowledge and love of God: "Dear God, I am so grateful for your invitation to enter your heart of love. As best I can I come in. Thank you for receiving me. Amen."2
1 Dave Goetz, author and editor, ChurchLeadersOnline.com Retrieved 01/22/2005 from http://www.preachingtoday.com/index.taf?_UserReference=6CD0298014F343DF41F25C9D&_function=illustration&_op=show_pf&IID=12401
2 Michael Counsell, Ed., 2000 Years of Prayer (Harrisburg, PA: Morehouse Publishing, 1999) p. 570. The prayer is written by Richard Foster and found in his book, Prayer (published in the UK by Hodder & Stoughton, 1992)