3 Epiphany 2014

3 Epiphany 2014

A while back when we still had the 9:15 Children’s service, we had an interesting conversation about today’s Gospel Reading. Effectively, drawing out this idea of being fishers of people, I asked what kind of bait one would use when fishing for people.

As it turns out, it’s a pretty difficult question to answer actually, because while we did discuss what sorts of things should be important to people, in general, all of our efforts to identify the best bait for people-fishing degenerated to general silliness. And somewhere between deciding that sandwiches would be good, and getting caught by a hook would be painful—we decided to end the conversation.

However, what I think is interesting about the conversation that I had with our kids is that it reflects, quite rightly, the whole Church’s understanding of “fishing for people.” Unfortunately, like the conversation I had with the kids, what often happens is that the Church discusses what ought to be important, but then allows the conversation to degenerate into general silliness.

And while, as many of you know, I have no problem with general silliness—when such silliness becomes the blueprint for how the Church goes about calling people to join in our life together; well, then it just becomes sad and a little pathetic.

The fact is, we get a whole slew of mixed messages about how to draw people into the Church. Whether it’s some new program, bible study, or the addition of a ‘Contemporary Worship Service;’ all of them promise greater numbers, and an enthusiastic membership, besides. Yet, for all of these things having been implemented in a number of different types of churches, in time, what we know is that they all inevitably see decline.

Because, while these things may have yielded success  in some ways, in some places—we have to remember that such things have never proven to be a ’magic bullet’ that is the answer to all of the Church’s woes. Instead, it seems to me, that we should first understand how we measure success. Secondly, we need to understand that what we’re fishing for is more than just people; we’re in the business of calling fellow disciples. The question, then, I suppose, is ‘how do we call fellow disciples?’

If you’ll recall from our reading, we see that when Jesus comes by and calls Peter, Andrew, James, and John; we see that they are willing to drop everything and follow him. Certainly, we could attribute their response to some divine aura that Jesus might have had while he was doing his earthly ministry. But, more likely, (from what we can infer from what comes before today’s reading), it seems that they could just have easily been drawn by the message Jesus was preaching.

‘Repent, for the kingdom of God has come near…’ You might recognize this message from John the Baptist; and now, from any number of tract-toting preachers who stand on street corners. But this was the message that drew so many people to John the Baptist; a simple message, yet a very hopeful message, as well.

Far from being a message of hellfire and brimstone, this message was an invitation to turn one’s life around—not for fear of eternal damnation—but because God’s Kingdom was breaking into our world; and anyone willing to put aside personal ambition was invited to be part of it.

Now add to this a culture and society that had become overburdened by religious legalism, cultural exclusivism and extreme economic disparity—and you have a message that would cause anyone to drop what they’re doing and follow along.

The irony here is that I’m actually talking about the First Century—and not the world today. 

However, putting it into such a reframe should offer us some perspective.

So, what’s happened that this message that really is Good News has become something so burdensome? I mean, why is it so awkward to try and share our faith?

Well, I suppose the obvious reason that is on most of our minds, is that we don’t want to be like those people who use the Gospel to bludgeon people. We don’t want any part of anything that hurts people, excludes people, or otherwise denigrates the dignity of another human being.

That’s not what we want to be associated with, and it’s not how most of us have experienced God in our lives.

Likewise, we’re probably not comfortable coming across to people as ‘holier-than-thou,’ or somehow better than others.

However, the only cure for a problem like this is to be an authentic, genuine person both in faith and in every other part of your life. This, of course means living faith more than talking about it.

And if any of us tries our best to be really honest and authentic in our faith, I think we find that we’re humbled by God’s grace. So, in reality, true faith leaves no room for arrogance or spiritual pride, but only humble gratitude.

But, all of our personal issues aside, I think that what we’ve also seen is that the Gospel message has kind of been high-jacked. Somehow, in a bid to insure attendance numbers and pledging units; there are some, who have made the Gospel as legalistic and abusive as anything the disciples were trying to get away from in the First Century. So, instead of being a message of hope and salvation to the lost, the Gospel message has been co-opted by snake-oil salesmen, and used as a tool to control people.

The interesting thing, however, is that many people have come to resent such an approach to faith and the Gospel message. And, in response, they have either given up on faith altogether, or they’ve given in and become Episcopalian… (I wish). But this is the kind of thing that we’re up against, and it’s not the only game changer—because along with battling a radicalized kind of Christianity, we also struggle to keep in mind our purpose.

In a lot of ways, we’ve been taught to be more focused on bodies than the calling of fellow disciples. But we also forget, Jesus only had 12 disciples—one of them betrayed him, and all but one of them and his mom stayed with him when he was crucified. So, we have to be careful about how we measure success. All the same, we also need to be be committed to living a life of faith and love that not only speaks to the transformative work of God, but one that invites others to experience the same.

Notice, I didn’t really say anything about talking…because, it seems to me that there are plenty of people who over-use the empty words of church-speak. So, even in the realm of faith and truth, we experience the cheapness of talk.

  

For me, I think this is in large part because we’ve forgotten that we need to show through our lives why following Christ has made a difference for us. Somehow, we’re being tempted not to trust that our lives, our actions and our choices aren’t enough to preach the Gospel—when instead, the way we live, our actions and choices are the very things that can affirm or betray the integrity of our words. After all, the invitation to change one’s life is meaningless if the one inviting hasn’t been changed also.

The point is that we need to live honestly and authentically out of our love of Christ, rather than pretend at an overly pious life, and destroy our integrity. This, after all, is exactly what diminishes the true power of the Gospel. The Gospel, which calls all of us to be changed and to experience more fully the power of Christ’s love.  

So, in the end, perhaps we don’t need Contemporary Music or even sandwiches on fishing poles to catch people—perhaps all we need is what we’ve already been given: lives changed by grace, and the story of why it matters.