Not a Moment but a Movement
Matthew 4:12-22
January 22nd, 2023
Rev. Rhonda Blevins, pastor
Now when Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. 13 He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, 14 so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:
15 “Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the gentiles—
16 the people who sat in darkness
have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
light has dawned.”
17 From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”
18 As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishers. 19 And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.” 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 21 As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. 22 Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.______
Three years.
It was three years ago this week that the CDC reported the first case of COVID-19 in the United States.
Three years.
My, how the world—our world—has changed! How has your life changed because of COVID?
Here at the Chapel, we’ve weathered the COVID storm quite well, but COVID has changed our church—we are a different congregation than we were three years ago in significant ways. I grieve the loss of those who never came back for many and varied reasons—some moved, some still aren’t doing congregate settings, some got mad because of how we handled closings and masking, others simply got out of the habit of coming to church. At the same time, I celebrate the arrival of new folks to our church! New members who are eager to place their lives in community with us here at the Chapel—bringing their gifts and talents and using them in service of God’s church on Clearwater Beach.
All of this change we’re experiencing is a part of what many people are calling “The Great ReEvaluation.” First, we heard about “The Great Resignation”—people leaving their jobs
en masse, causing employers to scramble, to raise pay rates and expand benefits and find other ways to entice people to work. “The Great Resignation” is a part of “The Great ReEvaluation.” You see, the past three years changed our perspective, prompting us to change how we live our lives. We grew more introspective as a society; we suddenly and shockingly realized how fragile life truly is. We reassessed our values, we measured our lives, our jobs, our living situations, our social and civic connections. And yes, even our church affiliations. What many people discovered as they evaluated their lives was that there was a huge gap between what they valued and how they were living their lives. They wanted more freedom, more autonomy, more time with loved ones, more time to simply “be.”
The global pandemic compelled us to focus on what truly matters and reorient our lives around that. People were no longer content to live their lives in the “hamster wheel.” In the face of recognizing just how fleeting life can be, they wanted more from life. So they reprioritized. They evolved. They moved towards self-actualization.
This wasn’t just a moment, it was a movement.
Wanting more from life, however, isn’t something new to this generation.
In our scripture lesson today, we meet four men who wanted to be a part of something bigger than the small lives they were leading.
Simon Peter and his brother, Andrew—James and his brother, John—were all fishermen. Every day was the same:
· Wake up before dawn
· Head down to the Sea of Galilee
· Hop in the boat, push away from shore
· Catch as many fish as possible
· Bring the catch in
· Tie the boat up
· Tend the net
· Sell the fish, keeping a few for themselves
· Go home and eat dinner
· Go to bed
They were on this “hamster wheel” six days a week, every single week, with a break on the Sabbath.
But one day, something happened that would invite them to step out of the hamster wheel into something completely different.
Jesus, walking along the shore of Galilee, called out to them, inviting them to step out of the “hamster wheel” into something more meaningful. “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” The way I read this text, this was a “now or never” proposition. There was no opportunity to weigh their options. For Peter and Andrew there was no option for a, “Thank you for the offer, Jesus. I would like a couple of days to talk it over with my wife.” For James and John, no opportunity to say, “Thanks for the invitation, but let us help our father finish fixing this net.” No, the invitation demanded an immediate response. Would it be risky? Absolutely. Would friends and family judge them? You bet. But would it be worth it? Would it be that “something more” that they craved in their bones? Maybe???
This was their defining moment, but it wasn’t just a moment. It was an invitation into a movement.
Last week, my husband and I got to go see Hamilton at the Straz. Oh. My. Goodness! If you’ve been around the Chapel for a while, you’ve probably heard me talk about Hamilton. I never saw Hamilton live before last week, but I watched it a couple (hundred) times on Disney Plus. Disney released Hamilton in 2020. What was happening in the world in 2020? COVID-19. We were living in COVID land. Hamilton was one of the things that got me through those difficult days. I’m not one to “fan-girl” too much, but I might have become a little obsessed. I might know just about every lyric to every song, and I heartily sing along to the soundtrack when I’m alone in my car.
So sitting in my first live performance of Hamilton, smiling ear to ear, I began to sing along with the cast—that is until I got an elbow in my ribcage from my sweet husband. So I shut up. Then my husband started singing along. I happily returned an elbow. But there’s one line—one line in the musical I couldn’t help but sing along to.
It’s in the middle of Alexander Hamilton’s theme song, “My Shot.” Hamilton is a young man; after he moves to New York City, he’s searching for something to be a part of. So he becomes a part of the movement for United States independence. He’s impressing everyone with his brilliance and his oratory, when he steps aside and begins to wonder about what it all means, and how it will end for him. He doesn’t know, but what he realizes is that what he’s a part of—it will change the world as he knows it. “This is not a moment, it’s the movement.” After that realization, Hamilton is all in. He never turns back. He becomes our “Founding Father without a father.”
For Peter, Andrew, James and John, this defining moment is not a moment, it’s the movement. Play it safe, stay home with their nets and their boats, and like most people (according to Henry David Thoreau) “live lives of quiet desperation?” Or claim the moment and join the movement?
“Follow me,” Jesus said. “I will make you fish for people.” The world stops for Peter, Andrew, James and John in that moment. It’s do or die. Follow now, or die on the inside. What will they choose? How will it end? What’s going to happen?
Friends, they did not throw away their shot!
Listen again to how the scriptures describe this moment that became a movement:
Immediately they left their nets and followed him.
Boom!
They dropped their nets. They left that life behind. They became a part of something so much bigger than themselves. What they didn’t know, what they couldn’t know in that moment, is that they would change the very course of human history.
There’s no way to know that in the moment. They took a chance, they took their shot, and we’re talking about them now over 2,000 years later. I’d say it worked out for them.
So . . .
We’ve talked about the Jesus Revolution from the First Century.
We’ve even talked about the American Revolution from the Eighteenth Century.
Now let’s talk about the “Chapel Revolution” from the 21st Century.
In a few minutes, some of you will gather for our annual congregational meeting. We’ll elect board members and officers; we’ll adopt a budget. We’ll hear briefly about a major renovation project happening in the months ahead. And that’s good. We need a strong board. We need fiscal responsibility. This is how we “tend our nets”—how we order our life together as a community of faith.
In addition to “tending our nets,” I wonder if God might be calling us to something more. I wonder if God might be calling us beyond the metrics of buildings, bodies, and budgets. I wonder if we can join Christ, and call one another out beyond the “hamster wheel,” beyond the “lives of quiet desperation.”
In the year of our Lord 2023, in the midst of this “Great ReEvaluation,” people are done. No longer will they participate in activities like church unless they’re fun or meaningful or both. They’re done. They’re not going to do it. You’re not going to do it. I’m not going to do it.
Beyond the “tending our nets” of ordering our life together as a community of faith, can we, will we, follow the call of Christ to compelling adventure and to profound meaning? And maybe even have some fun along the way?
Folks, people everywhere are reordering their lives. Churches that continue to do the same things the same way come hell or high water are heading for trouble. I bragged recently on this congregation to a small group of colleagues—saying that I’ve learned in my 5.5 years as your pastor, that “My congregation is willing to take some calculated risks.”
I wonder, what risks will we take in the months ahead to follow Christ in the way of compelling adventure and profound meaning?
Here are four ways I can envision when I think of stepping out in faith in this way.
1. Deep community. Something more than casual “hellos” but deep community. Like what the folks at “Fermenting the Faith” experienced a couple of weeks ago as people started sharing their stories, their joys and their sorrows, in real, raw, and vulnerable ways. Deep community.
2. Impassioned worship. I can see people experiencing God’s grace, feeling fresh winds of the Spirit through worship that connects body, mind and spirit. And not just on Sunday mornings, but discovering ways to worship with our very lives. Impassioned worship.
3. Radical hospitality. This is so much deeper than just being friendly. This is flinging the doors of welcome wide open—even to those for whom most doors are closed. Radical hospitality.
4. Transformational mission. Engaging our time, our talents, as well as our treasure in ways that transform peoples’ lives. Our new outreach team is eager to expand our reach. What shape might that take? Where will the Spirit lead? Are we willing to be transformed in the process?
Deep Community.
Impassioned Worship.
Radical Hospitality.
Transformational Mission.
D.I.R.T. Yes, following Jesus may mean that we get “D.I.R.T.y” Are we willing to get a little “D.I.R.T.y” to be a part of something that’s going to outlive us?
Over the next four weeks, we’re going to explore each of these concepts more fully (but not in order . . . that would be far too conventional.) When Jesus called those first disciples, it wasn’t about a moment but a movement. A movement to change the world? Absolutely. And a movement to change within as well.
“Follow me,” Jesus said to those first disciples. The invitation is the same for us. I wonder . . . will we?