Third Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

When we hear about fishermen in the Bible, I think many of us hear this playing in our heads:

As for Andy and Opie, for many of us, going fishing means sitting on a riverbank or a dock with a line dangling in the water, waiting for the fish to bite. There’s no urgency; in fact, it’s one of those things that you do to escape from everyday work and routine.

But, fishing in biblical times, as it is now for commercial fishermen, was backbreaking, smelly and risky work. And, as any boat owner knows, the best days of your life are the day you buy a boat and the day you sell it.

Ancient fisherman fought with broken nets and decaying wood. They were at the mercy of the wind and tide. And in first-century Capernaum on the northwest shore of the sea of Galilee, under the control of Herod Antipas, the fishermen were subject to quotas and taxes and tolls.

It is out of this kind of experience and livelihood that Jesus calls Simon Peter and Andrew, and then John and James, to follow him and be fishers of men.

He invited the disciples to do something new, but it didn’t mean it wouldn’t be hard work.

But even if you anticipate the hardship of the task, today’s gospel text sounds a lot like a big fish story. You know how big fish stories go; they are the stories of “the one that got away” like the one Mark Twain tells in the Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Huck is telling the story and says:

“the first thing we done was to bait one of the big hooks with a skinned rabbit and set it and catch a cat-fish that was as big as a man, being six foot two inches long, and weighed over two hundred pounds.

We couldn't handle him, of course; he would a flung us into Illinois.”

Big fish stories are unlikely — hard to believe — especially because we don’t see what happened with our own eyes, and today’s Gospel gives us a whopper! Matthew says that Jesus invited the disciples to follow him and become fishers of men, and immediately they did!

Just like that. They didn’t talk back or ask for details. They didn’t even ask to say goodbye to their families. They just dropped their nets and followed him. Immediately.

“Discipleship is hearing God’s call and obeying it, even if it means radical changes of direction in life.” [i] It is our response to what God has already done, and is doing, in our midst.

Sometimes we get mixed up and think it’s up to us to declare a vision and mission, and it’s up to us to build the church, so we try big audacious programs –flashy big fish stories – to hook people.

But today’s Gospel reminds us that what God invites us to do is follow Jesus,
to listen to God’s Word and build relationships with other followers, for the sake of the world.

God doesn’t care about big fish stories. God cares about people.

A couple of years ago, at synod assembly, which is the annual meeting of our congregations, everyone was sent out into the community for service projects. There were about five hundred of us wearing t-shirts like this one that said, “Out To Serve -The Church Has Left The Building.” Maybe we should have hung a sign on the darkened auditorium doors that said, “Gone Fishing!” We were doing the hard work of living out the gospel in the world.

The call that Jesus makes to each of us doesn’t require a theology degree or a stole. It requires obedience:

eyes to see how the skills or knowledge and gifts you already possess can be used to show others the love and mercy of God; and, a heart to know that, while “routine rarely feels holy…the routine, everyday ways in which we follow Jesus are crucially important.”[ii]

When we get distracted by big fish stories – stories of saints like Mother Teresa or Francis of Assissi, or even Martin Luther –
it’s easy to discount our faithfulness.

Maybe you’ve heard the story about an old man who walking on the beach at low tide one day. 

The sand was littered with thousands of stranded starfish that the water had carried in and then left behind. 

The man began walking very carefully so as not to step on any of the beautiful creatures. Since the animals still seemed to be alive, he considered picking some of them up and putting them back in the water, where they could resume their lives. 

The man knew the starfish would die if left on the beach's dry sand but he reasoned that he could not possibly help them all, so he chose to do nothing and continued walking.
Soon afterward, the man came upon a small child on the beach who was frantically throwing one starfish after another back into the sea. 

The old man stopped and asked the child, "What are you doing?" 

"I'm saving the starfish," the child replied. 

"Why waste your time?... There are so many you can't save them all so what does is matter?" argued the man.

Without hesitation, the child picked up another starfish and tossed the starfish back into the water... "It matters to this one," the child explained.

Our ordinary faithfulness matters. Throughout this season of Epiphany, we discover that “every moment matters, because life is holy. God speaks to us in the ordinary and the routine.”[iii]

Let us pray…
Holy God,
Guided by your Spirit, help us respond faithfully when you call us;
Send us out united in purpose and unafraid to follow Jesus,
even when it means doing a new thing,
that the world would know your mercy and love.
Amen.

[i] Feasting on the Gospels.
[ii] ibid
[iii] Pastor and preaching professor Brett Younger