The Adventure of Epiphany

Isaiah 9:1-4; Psalm 27

Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23

The following reflects the main points that I tried to make, wanted to make, or should have made.

When people arise to bring food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked and care for the sick, to visit the imprisoned and welcome the refugee, this is light that shines in a land of deep darkness. This is the witness to the power of God to which we are invited. This is the Epiphany to which we are invited, now and always.

Being a Fisherman

The fishing metaphor doesn’t resonate with me. I’m not a fisherman. On a purely intellectual or literary level, I get the metaphor. It just doesn’t strike a chord on a personal level. The last time I went fishing was on one of those boats with a professional guide where the do everything for you. The kind of fishing excursion where the boat provides the rods and reels; the hooks are tied and baited and set to the proper depth. The captain locates the fish using the latest fish-finding sonar. The “fisherman,” enjoying a beverage by now, is then alerted when the fish takes the bait and sets the hook. All I had to do was reel in the fish. The crew even unhooked the fish and threw it in the cooler. If I remember right, the fish was even cleaned and prepared for me to take home. That’s my kind of fishing. If I am completely honest, my kind of fishing is picking the selection of the day at the local establishment, having I well prepared with butter and capers, and then having the dishes cleaned after I’m done. To each their own.

The fishing metaphor is strong in Matthew’s gospel and I get it. Those first four who were called to follow Jesus were fishermen on the Sea of Galilee. Capernaum, where Jesus was living at the time, was a fishing town. The narrative, with its fishing metaphor, is appropriate to the audience. The narrative, however, is more than just a fishing metaphor. The story is a story of a new beginning for those four fishermen.

The Adventure of New Beginnings

The Bible is full of beginnings: There is THE beginning “when created the heavens and the earth,” speaking existence into being, the magnificent cosmos flowing from the very Word of God.

There is the beginning of the human race with Adam and Eve.

The earth begins anew after the flood with Noah and his family.

Sarah and Abraham answer God’s invitation to go away from the land of the Chaldeans, beginning anew in the land of Canaan.

Moses leads his people from the slavery of Egypt to start a new life in the promised land.

And at the end, there will be a new beginning when the holy city descends from heaven to earth, the New Jerusalem, a place to begin what will be forever new.

There are beginnings in the Bible that we name “Call” narratives. They are common among the stories of the prophets. Elijah and Elisha, Isaiah and Jeremiah have dramatic call narratives, recounting how they were invited by God to begin something new.

Andrew and Simon, James and John would likely have arisen in the darkness of early morning to begin their day on the sea. They would have hurled the heavy nets into the water and pulled them back again in anticipation of just of few fish. It would have been a day like so many others. There was nothing special in the air, no signs of change. They would have engaged in the same routine they had carried out hundreds of times before. They were, after all, fishermen on the Sea of Galilee.

But amid familiar smells and sounds of the sea, amid the nets and rough wood of boats, amid the f familiar rhythm of the waves, a new beginning iwas taking place. Jesus turns up waterside. They think that they might have seen this man before. He looks familiar to them. Maybe they recall him from that place on the Jordan where John was baptizing and challenging those hypocrite Pharisees and Sadducees. Jesus sees these working men in their boats with their nets and their hard-won catch. “Follow me,” he calls out them, “and I will make you fish for people.” And these four hard-scrabble fishermen hear Jesus voice, put-down their nets, and go.

A new beginning was taking place. A new adventure was beginning. G. K. Chesterton wrote, “An adventure is, by its nature, a thing that comes to us. It is a thing that chooses us, not a thing that we choose.”

While other rabbis waited for disciples to come to them, Jesus goes out and issues the invitation. He not immune to interrupting fishermen at their work. An adventure is something that comes to us, that chooses us. And discipleship is a great adventure – maybe the greatest adventure. The one who comes to us and chooses us is great beyond all measure and we are taken away from predictable lives, plunged into adventure.

Woe to anyone who dilutes this adventure with dullness and who makes discipleship into something safe.

Happy are those for whom the adventure remains an adventure and who discover something that is always and ever a new beginning.

Are Andrew, Simon, James, and John equipped for the adventure that chooses them? Jesus showed up at the waterside but he didn’t ask for resumes and references. Instead, Jesus invites them as they are, taking wide-open risk. And they do the same in response.

Later events in the gospel narrative don’t really demonstrate a particular fitness for their roles. Simon Peter, who is called the Rock, betrays Jesus. James and John, the Sons of Thunder, aren’t the most agreeable, indulging in fantasies about their own enthronement. And Andrew….where did Andrew go? He is rarely heard from again. But Jesus invites them and never withdraws the invitation to share in the adventure.

Light in the Darkness

“Follow me,” Jesus invited, “and I will make you fish for people.” In other words, follow me in helping others become disciples too. Today’s lesson from Isaiah, echoed in the gospel, reads:

“The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness – on them light has shined.”

We are invited to discipleship today – to the same kind of discipleship as the first four. Too often, we act as though only select individuals can reveal Jesus to the world. But this season of Epiphany is about discipleship as proclamation, about bearing witness to the power of God at work among God’s people. We are invited, as the world walks in darkness, to be light, a beacon of hope and joy, welcome and care.

Today, as we prepare, in this community of faith, for our annual meeting (set for January 29), it might be useful to reflect on how we are light. How, in other words, do we bear witness as individuals but also as a community of faith to the power of God at work among the people of God? How are we the incarnate Christ planted in this place and in this time?

In this community, where seniors are hungry and lonely, where they struggle to meet their needs, people have arisen to offer service to the Elderly, offering nutritional meals and a helping hand.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness.

I this community, where some parents struggle and children walk in darkness, people have arisen to be their guardians, to offer their protection and wisdom and guidance.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness.

In this community, where migrant families are hungry, where their rights are trampled upon, and where their children suffer, people have arisen to fight for what is fair and decent.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness.

In this world, where discrimination and prejudice still rears its ugly head – where women, Latinos, Muslims, blacks, LGBT friends and neighbors, and too many others are treated with inequity and fear, people have rallied, taking pride in who they are, proclaiming that they matter, demanding to be acknowledged as good and holy.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness.

In this community, where change is needed to make justice happen, people have arisen to for peace, bringing transformation to our community.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness.

In this community, people have arisen to bring food to the hungry and drink to the thirsty, to clothe the naked and care for the sick, to visit the imprisoned and welcome the refugee.

This is the light that shines in a land of deep darkness. This is our witness. This is our Epiphany.

Epiphany is a time to recognize that Jesus Christ is present, born into the world, made flesh, affirming our humanity. We are invited to be Epiphany, now and always.

Next week, at the annual meeting, we will have a chance to do some brief reflection on how we witness to the power of God in this community. Given and allowing for the constraints of time, we will have some discussion, asking ourselves three questions:

• How do we already witness (well) to the power of God in our community?

• What can we do to witness to the power of God in the community?

• What am I willing to do to witness to the power of God in the community?