Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near, turn your lives around, memorize religious doctrine, drink some Lutheran coffee, and believe sola scriptura."
As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea — for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people who will memorize and recite things you failed to memorize and recite during your confirmation." And, with such a strong incentive, they left their nets and followed him.
As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them saying, “hey we got some great organ music and some cool Nicene Creed reciting going on, come to church;” and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.
There is definitely one thing that the call to follow Jesus was not; it was not the call to follow some great and glorious belief or complex religious creed. It was not the call to follow the ideals of the French Revolution nor was it the call to shout “yes we can” for a greater America. It was not the call to go to a great church with great programming for the entire family. The call of Jesus was none of those things. The call was a little more personal than that.
The call was more like this: while sitting at home with your laptop, working on some reports that are now consuming your entire life, work or school after-all consumes your entire life; and while gazing at the computer screen engulfed in the mind frame of just getting the job done so that you can move on to more important things like watching a movies or eating the strawberry shortcake that is waiting right now in the kitchen; you see move across your window a figure. You glance up, and to your shock, it is a person just staring at you. It isn’t the sort of staring that says “I’m ready to steal everything and leave you as crow food.” Rather, it is the stare that says, “You seem to need help. You seem stuck to your chair…you seem stuck in life. You seem like you need something more.” Looking into the concerned eyes, you move to the front door and open it.
Jesus says only a few words, “turn your life around and follow me. Oh, and bring your laptop, it will no longer surf for information, it will now surf to find people.” And with that you grab your laptop and follow.
Perhaps, it is not a laptop you have but a bundle of knitting and Jesus says, “bring your knitting, no longer will you just knit together patterns, but you will now knit together some beautiful people.” And with that you grab your knitting and follow.
Perhaps, it is not even knitting, but working on a car and he says, “bring the car, no longer will you just put cars back together, but you will put people together.” And with that, you get in the car and follow.
Whatever it is that Jesus asks you to bring along, you grab it, you turn your life from whatever was consuming so much of your time, and you follow, trusting that Jesus knows where he is going.
The life of faith is not singing certain songs, though that may be a part of it. The life of faith is not memorizing and reciting certain beliefs, though they may influence it. The life of faith is not knowing all the answers to the mysteries of life and of God. The life of faith is not staying stuck in the same rut for your whole life. The life of faith is a relationship with Christ.
It is a relationship similar to the one you had with your parents while you were young, you had no idea where they were taking you, but you trusted that they would not only get you there, but would not leave you stranded.
The life of faith is a relationship with Christ, in which we trust where we are being led, and trust that we will not be left alone with no direction. The life of faith is one of turning our life around, and following.
Jesus is calling you to a new and wonderful life. Grab your things and follow. Who knows where it will lead?
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
Sunday, January 25, 2009
Reflection on John 1:43-51
One of my favorite ceremonies in the church is the remembrance of baptism. For those who do not know, the remembrance of Baptism is a ceremony where all the faithful come to the baptismal font and have a cross marked with water from the font on their forehead. It is not a baptism. It is to remember the day we were baptized.
The coolness of the water leaves the imprint of the cross on the forehead. It is an imprint that speaks truth without words. It is an imprint that has been there since our baptism. As we walk back to our seats, the breeze across the mark on our foreheads boldly declares that we are God’s children. “I am a Child of God.” We can literally feel and remember that we are marked with the cross of Christ forever.
My first baptismal remembrance was really a non-event for me. It happened (or rather did not happen) on my first day of bible camp when I had just finished fourth grade. Everyone I had just met briefly were gathered into a crowded barn around a very small fire and we shyly sang songs to God through the night. It was a time in my life when I felt alone. Friends were hard to come by. And at this moment of singing with people I did not even know, away from home, I felt even more alone.
Breaking into my loneliness, the minister declared that we “are all children of God. You are not alone. God is with you. This was your promise in baptism. You will never be alone. Remember your baptism.” And with those words, the counselors took water, and made signs of the cross on each and every one of us. Well, almost all of us. My counselor did not find me, and I alone had been forgotten. The drops of rain on the roof of the barn echoed and mocked my dry forehead.
"I do not need a counselor to share God with me" I thought to myself. I and God were in a one-on-one relationship after-all.
And so, as I left to go back to my cabin, I looked into the sky and waited for God to mark my forehead with some heavenly rain. This was going to be my great connection with God. This was going to be my proof of God’s goodness. This was going to be a great disappointment. I do not know if you knew this or not, but rain does not listen to fourth graders. Nor does God do what a fourth grader tells God to do. Rain hit every part of my face, but my forehead. I even willed the rain to make a line down my forehead and tilted my head sideways to finish the cross. It did not work.
“I want to go home,” I told my counselor when I reached my cabin. “What good can come out of this camp?” I whined.
“What good can come out of a stupid bible camp?” I asked. “What good can come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked when told about Jesus. “What good can come out of church?” my younger brother asks as he struggles with the horrible memories of war and death. “What good can come out of this?” asks someone who just found out they have cancer. “What good can come out of this,” asks the worker who after 30 years is laid off. “What good can come out of this?”
I know that you are already filling in the answers. Perhaps, a better job will come out of being laid off. Perhaps, your illness will bring a torn family together. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But, perhaps not. Before distancing yourself with answers, stay with the question for a while, “What good can come out of this?”
Being stuck in the question has caused people to do a lot of things to try to get an answer from God. In ancient time, people built an enormous tower (the tower of Babel) to reach God and get their answer. People today search the mysteries of ancient Mayan ruins and stone calendars in order to find the secret cosmic wormhole to God and God’s answers. People make deals with God, “I will do much better with my children if only you talk to me and tell me what will happen.” At camp, I searched the sky for a cross on my forehead.
“You won’t find the answer in the sky.” My counselor told me that evening as I talked
about my struggles.
"I want to go home, what good will come out of this week anyway?”
With the wisdom of Philip sewn into his heart by God, my counselor answered, “I don’t know what good will come out of it. Why don’t you stay here and see.”
“What good can come from losing a great job?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of illness?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of church?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of the hick town of Nazareth?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
When Nathanael followed Philip, Jesus found him, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
When I stayed for the rest of the week at camp, Jesus found me, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
There is great wisdom in those simple words of Philip. They speak possibility without giving a cheap answer or false promise. They speak hope without laying out a 12 step plan. They leave possibilities open for Jesus to save in whatever way Jesus sees fit. “Come and see.”
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
The coolness of the water leaves the imprint of the cross on the forehead. It is an imprint that speaks truth without words. It is an imprint that has been there since our baptism. As we walk back to our seats, the breeze across the mark on our foreheads boldly declares that we are God’s children. “I am a Child of God.” We can literally feel and remember that we are marked with the cross of Christ forever.
My first baptismal remembrance was really a non-event for me. It happened (or rather did not happen) on my first day of bible camp when I had just finished fourth grade. Everyone I had just met briefly were gathered into a crowded barn around a very small fire and we shyly sang songs to God through the night. It was a time in my life when I felt alone. Friends were hard to come by. And at this moment of singing with people I did not even know, away from home, I felt even more alone.
Breaking into my loneliness, the minister declared that we “are all children of God. You are not alone. God is with you. This was your promise in baptism. You will never be alone. Remember your baptism.” And with those words, the counselors took water, and made signs of the cross on each and every one of us. Well, almost all of us. My counselor did not find me, and I alone had been forgotten. The drops of rain on the roof of the barn echoed and mocked my dry forehead.
"I do not need a counselor to share God with me" I thought to myself. I and God were in a one-on-one relationship after-all.
And so, as I left to go back to my cabin, I looked into the sky and waited for God to mark my forehead with some heavenly rain. This was going to be my great connection with God. This was going to be my proof of God’s goodness. This was going to be a great disappointment. I do not know if you knew this or not, but rain does not listen to fourth graders. Nor does God do what a fourth grader tells God to do. Rain hit every part of my face, but my forehead. I even willed the rain to make a line down my forehead and tilted my head sideways to finish the cross. It did not work.
“I want to go home,” I told my counselor when I reached my cabin. “What good can come out of this camp?” I whined.
“What good can come out of a stupid bible camp?” I asked. “What good can come out of Nazareth?” Nathanael asked when told about Jesus. “What good can come out of church?” my younger brother asks as he struggles with the horrible memories of war and death. “What good can come out of this?” asks someone who just found out they have cancer. “What good can come out of this,” asks the worker who after 30 years is laid off. “What good can come out of this?”
I know that you are already filling in the answers. Perhaps, a better job will come out of being laid off. Perhaps, your illness will bring a torn family together. Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But, perhaps not. Before distancing yourself with answers, stay with the question for a while, “What good can come out of this?”
Being stuck in the question has caused people to do a lot of things to try to get an answer from God. In ancient time, people built an enormous tower (the tower of Babel) to reach God and get their answer. People today search the mysteries of ancient Mayan ruins and stone calendars in order to find the secret cosmic wormhole to God and God’s answers. People make deals with God, “I will do much better with my children if only you talk to me and tell me what will happen.” At camp, I searched the sky for a cross on my forehead.
“You won’t find the answer in the sky.” My counselor told me that evening as I talked
about my struggles.
"I want to go home, what good will come out of this week anyway?”
With the wisdom of Philip sewn into his heart by God, my counselor answered, “I don’t know what good will come out of it. Why don’t you stay here and see.”
“What good can come from losing a great job?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of illness?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of church?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
“What good can come out of the hick town of Nazareth?”
“I don’t know, come and see.”
When Nathanael followed Philip, Jesus found him, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
When I stayed for the rest of the week at camp, Jesus found me, and when Jesus finds you, God finds you.
There is great wisdom in those simple words of Philip. They speak possibility without giving a cheap answer or false promise. They speak hope without laying out a 12 step plan. They leave possibilities open for Jesus to save in whatever way Jesus sees fit. “Come and see.”
All Scripture quotes are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyrighted, 1989 by the Division of Christian Education of the National Council of the Churches of Christ in the U.S.A., and is used by permission. All rights reserved.
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