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Sermon - January 27th, 2008
The Dawning of Light
Rev. Gwen Drake
Scripture: Matthew 4:12-23
Prayer: We give thanks, O God, for sacred stories. Through your word you nurture our imaginations, increase our awareness, and challenge our assumptions. May the words of my mouth and meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O God, our Rock and our Redeemer. Amen.
There is a story about a Russian who was visiting our country who was amazed by what he found in our supermarkets. He wrote in a letter to his family back in the old country: “On my first shopping trip I saw powdered milk. All you do is add water and you get milk. On my second trip I saw a package of powdered orange juice. All you do is add water and you get orange juice. On my third trip to the supermarket I saw this can of baby powder. Now, is this a great country, or what?”
We do live in an incredible time of scientific and technological wonders. Miraculous things happen with the turn of a switch. The internet has made communication across the globe instantaneous. Information is at our finger tips. Turn on a switch, add a little water, and wonders unfold. No risk, little effort, and great things happen before our very eyes.
However, most of life is not like that. We all know this. Pushing a button won’t sooth a sorrow or delete a wrong that was done. Adding water won’t put a marriage back together or wash away bigotry and prejudice. There is no miraculous drug to cure the ills of society. Those kind of miracles require the efforts of people who are willing to take a risk.
There’s a wonderful midrash that explains the parting of the Red Sea. (A midrash is an interpretation of the Jewish Scriptures, sometimes in the form of a story.) When the Pharaoh finally told Moses that he could lead the Hebrew slaves to freedom, they left quickly. As soon as they left, Egypt’s Pharaoh changed his mind and sent the soldiers after them. Moses and his people got to the Red Sea and they were trapped, an army behind them and the Red Sea waters in front of them. The story in Exodus says that Moses and God did it all. Moses raised his hand and the waters parted. But according to the Jewish midrash, it wasn’t quite like that. The waters didn’t part until the Hebrew people stepped into them. Moses raised his hand, but somebody had to take the first step before the waters to parted.
The point is as profound as it is simple: God works wonders when we do something. Miracles unfold when we take a risk.
Albert Schweitzer had it made. He was born on the border of France and Germany, graduated form the University of Strasbourg, specializing in philosophy and theology. He became the head of a theological college at the University of Strasbourg and immediately plunged into several writing projects that were soon published. He was 31 years old when his book, The Quest for the Historical Jesus was published. One of the conclusions of his studies and this book was that Jesus could only be known by those who responded to his invitation, “Follow me.”
Schweitzer also pursued a career in music. He studied the organ in Paris and wrote a definitive edition on the musical and religious meaning of Bach’s chorales and cantatas. He was a very gifted and brilliant man. However, Schweitzer felt that he had been given talents way beyond what he deserved.
In 1905, when he was only 30, he startled his friends and colleagues by announcing his intention to study medicine to become a missionary doctor in equatorial Africa. This is what he wrote about that decision:
“It struck me as incomprehensible that I should be allowed to lead such a happy life, while I saw so many people around me wrestling with care and suffering. Even at school I had felt stirred whenever I got a glimpse of the miserable home surroundings of some of my school fellows and compared them with the absolutely ideal conditions in which we children of the parsonage at Gunsbach lived….Then one brilliant summer morning at Gunsbach, in 1896…there came to me, as I awoke, the thought that I must not accept this happiness as a matter of course, but must give something in return for it. Proceeding to think the matter out at once with calm deliberation, while the birds were singing outside, I settled with myself before I got up, that I would consider myself justified in living till I was thirty for science and art, in order to devote myself from that time forward to the direct service of humanity. Many a time already had I tried to settle what meaning lay hidden for me in the saying of Jesus! ‘Whosoever would save his life shall lose it, and whosoever shall lose his life for My sake and the Gospels shall save it.’ Now the answer was found. In addition to the outward, I now had inward happiness.”
The rest of Schweitzer’s life was one of heroic self-dedication. He chose to be a doctor in Africa because he wanted to be able to work without having to talk. For years he had been giving himself out in words, through his calling to preach and teach and write. Now, he wanted to put those words into practice. And he did. In 1952 he received the Nobel Peace Prize for his work as a jungle doctor. He lived until he was 90 years old, most of those years in Africa as a gifted and magnetic man who took seriously the words Jesus said, “Follow me and I will make you fishers of people.”
In today’s Scripture reading, Jesus goes out into Galilee and calls some ordinary guys, ordinary like you and me, to be his disciples, promising to make them fishers of people--from catching fish to catching people—a very risky step for those four men. They were not the Albert Schweitzers or Mother Teresas of Galilee. They were fishermen; men who cast nets, who dove into the waters of the sea, men who hauled in their catch with all their strength. Now, they were being called to go fish for people. And they did, immediately. They left their nets and followed Jesus.
The message of the Gospel reading is that Jesus is also calling us, you and me, to go fishing for people. Not a comfortable calling. Perhaps we are thinking that it would be easier to go to Africa and be a jungle doctor than to talk to one of our friends, colleagues, or neighbors about our faith. We are not very comfortable talking about God with other people. We avoid it. We say, “My spirituality is private, between me and God.” We are embarrassed to tell people we are Christian because, well, Christians don’t have a good reputation for being good listeners, or being inclusive, or being compassionate. They often have easy answers, too easy. And they often sound like Job’s friends who kept telling him that he must have done something wrong to be suffering like he was.
But Jesus calls us now more than ever to come and follow him, to take the risk, to reach out to others, to catch them with your authenticity and your enthusiasm. But we say, “I don’t want to sound pushy. I don’t want to be lumped in with one of those overbearing TV evangelists. This kind of fear leads most of us to say nothing about what we believe or don’t believe. We keep that part of our lives separate, carefully sealing off our faith which may be THE most important part of our lives.
I’m sure that you have heard this before, and it is important enough to say it again. The major reason given by people who don’t go to church when they are asked why don’t you attend church is, “Nobody ever asked me.” Wow!
Is that all we have to do? Jesus said, “Come and follow me and I will make you fishers of men, and women, and children, everyone.” Have we even cast out the line and invited someone to come? Have you ever said, “Would you like to come to my church with me on Sunday?” We don’t have to be an Albert Schweitzer or a Mother Teresa to ask such a question. But we DO need to ask it. Who is going to ask it if we don’t? Our Evangelical brothers and sisters will. Our Mormon brothers and sisters will. A Jehovah witness will. And that’s okay. But we need to ask it, too. Why? Because in this complex world there are no easy answers to our questions, there is a lot of doubt and skepticism, and I thank God, that we are a church where there is plenty of room for people who doubt and question. People are looking for a church like ours. People are looking for a place to belong, for friends, for community, for a place where they feel needed and loved and accepted. Would you like to come to church with me Sunday? It is a simple question, isn’t it?
It’s a first step into uncharted waters, into a discussion about why it’s important for you to go to church, or into an answer of no, thank you. We may feel rejected or like we have failed. But that’s okay. It’s like lighting a small candle in dark, messy, crazy world. It just might be the beginning of the dawning of light in that person’s life. It might be something that wakes them up. It may be the planting of a seed. Jesus is calling us to take the first step, to take the risk.
Most people in Oregon are not church goers, many are befuddled by all the denominations, or are simply put off by organized religion, most have very little idea of what the Bible is about, and many feel alone and disconnected from their spirits, from any kind of spiritual life.
It is time to take this great opportunity and go fishing with Jesus, to reach out, to invite someone to come, to ask someone to follow us to this place on Sunday morning. It is time for us to help others to find their way here, to God, to a loving, caring community, to a place where they can feel like they belong.
Amen.