The Rev. Jennifer Adams – January 29, 2017 at – Epiphany 4, Year A: Isaiah 9:1-4, Matthew 4:12-23

So at this point in the service, if you were here last week, you might be feeling a little de ja vu.  “Didn’t we hear about Simon Peter and his brother Andrew last week?” you’re wondering to yourself.  Did Jen forget to turn the page?  Maybe you’re even feeling a little awkward on my behalf.  Well, I can assure you that the page has been turned; I’m on it guys. But you are also correct in terms of the story itself. In a rare experience of blatant lectionary repetition – I don’t think this happens any other time of the year – we just heard the story of the calling of these two disciples two weeks in a row.  This difference is that we heard it from the gospel of John last week and Matthew this week, and so don’t worry, there’s still a lot to talk about. Last week we even noted that there is more than one way to tell a story – and the means by which the story is told tells us something too.

Last week remember (or to bring you up to speed) it was a totally Johannine experience.  There was a bit of poetry and some mystery woven in to it all.  There was no mention of fisherman or nets or a lakeshore. The guys just sort of “saw Jesus” walking through town.  They began to follow him, which was more like a lurking behind him as he wandered through the streets.  And then at one point Jesus turned around, and asked them a question and offered invitation that was then repeated throughout that gospel, “What are you looking for?” he asked and Jesus invited them to “Come and see.” In that version of the story, the newly called disciples spent the night in a home with Jesus presumably listening, praying, eating, discerning.  And they experienced a conversion of sorts which they then shared with their family and friends, some of whom then followed Jesus too.

And so last week we talked about that spiritual process of allowing the gentle yet direct question and invitation to sink into our own hearts and lives, to do the work of being honest about what it is we’re seeking and allowing the Body of Christ to become that through which we are fed and through whom we “See” the presence of our God. I even gave you homework last week to prayerfully sit with the question and invitation, to see what it is that God reveals to you.

Well this week, the story is the same but so very different. This is the calling of Andrew and Simon told by Matthew and it’s every bit as spiritual, but rather than creating silence for a sort of deep reflection and discernment to take place like we did last week, we’re off and running right from the start of the passage.

According to Matthew, Jesus got word that John the Baptist had been imprisoned which was a sign for him that it was time to get things moving. And so Jesus packed it up, left his hometown, and headed toward the lakeshore. (Now we can relate to the strategy there. It’s never a bad approach to hit the lakeshore.)

But instead of wandering and sort of responding to those who had been attracted to his revelatory presence, Jesus, was far more proactive. There’s an urgency and necessary action woven into this version of the story that were not there last week.

Jesus saw two fishermen, Simon Peter and Andrew and he went up to them.  And then Jesus told them to “Follow me.”  And Peter and Andrew did. According to Matthew they, “Immediately dropped their nets and followed.” Then Jesus kept going. There was no settling down in a home for supper and conversation. Jesus just kept going.  And he saw James and John and “called to them” and they too, “immediately got out of the boat and followed.”

And from there Jesus and the brand new didn’t-even-have-time-to-talk-to-their-friends-about-all-of-this-in-fact-we-left-our Dad-Zebedee- back-in the-boat disciples went throughout Galilee, “teachingin their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curingevery disease and every sickness among the people.”

So last week we sat here in this place.  We took some deep breaths and contemplated our needs, our callings, the revelations we’ve experienced or hope to experience. But THIS WEEK there’s barely time to catch our breath because we have just been told to get out there, heal, teach, proclaim, cure!

And so I am very, very aware that we need both versions of this story.

There is a budding awareness (how’s that for a gentle summary of our times?) – there is a budding awareness that we need to be engaged in the struggles and hurts and pains of this world.  Yesterday in our country and all over the world on all seven continents we experienced what is being called “the largest march” ever held, the largest and probably most peaceful march ever held.  We witnessed and some of us were people claiming power, claiming voice, standing together and offering themselves/ourselves to a larger vision of “good.”

There is a sense of urgency that hasn’t been present on this large of a scale in a very long time, an awareness that we all need to be engaged. Now truth is the world needed us, needed all of us six months ago too. People were hungry six months ago. People were un-equal then too.  There were millions needed shelter and care and home then too.

But maybe we’re waking up.  Maybe a light is dawning on those who sat in darkness  – at least I’m going with that interpretation for now.  Maybe we can even help the story being written now to swing in that direction.  Regardless of where you stand politically, (and my guess is that that in itself is an ongoing discernment for us all) the world, if it is ever to resemble the kingdom God needs each and every one of us now. It always has and until the kingdom comes in full, it always will.

And so Jesus is here down by the Lakeshore today.  And Jesus is calling out to fishermen, teachers, doctors, activists, law enforcement officers, lawyers, priests, students, musicians, truck drivers, nurses, therapists, librarians, accountants, homemakers, programmers, bankers, (who am I missing?  Add your vocation to this list!) And Jesus is saying “The time is now.” I will help you fish for people,” he says, “God’s people. I will help you play for them, teach and learn for them, drive for them, preach for them, deliver for them. I will help you, pray, lead, manage, march, serve, protect for God’s people.”

There is an urgency for us to consider.  The time is now.  The time is always now. “The people who sat in darkness have seen a great light,” we heard from the prophet Isiaiah. And so, we should act like it.

We are both of these versions of the story of the calling of disciples and we need to be both versions of this story.  I actually think it’s a particular charism of the Episcopal Church to be able to hold and integrate both – the deeply prayerful and discerning with the active and engaged.  We are to listen in ways that invite and actually demand a deep, reflective and spiritual awareness. “What are you looking for, what do you seek?” needs to be a question we ask ourselves on a very regular basis if for no other reason than it keeps us aware of the energies and desires we are acting out of. It also opens us up to have God respond.

And we need be active. The time is an urgent one as it always is.  The Kingdom of God is at hand and it will take everyone from fishermen to teachers to kids to lawyers and doctors and activists and law enforcement officers and even a priest or two to help it break through more and more.  We have all been called to offer our skills, our talents, ourselves in ways that proclaim to this hungry world the love and justice and mercy of our God.   Desmond Tutu said, “It’s those little pieces of good put together that overwhelm the world.” That’s what this is all about.

And so catch your breath when you are here.  Breath deeply here.  And feel empowered through our prayer to become and engaged response, a response that embodies the healing, mercy and hope of a God who loves us all.

Amen

The Rev. Jennifer Adams –Sunday, November 13, 2016 –Proper 28, Year C: Isaiah 65:17-25, Luke 21:5-19

“For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth,” God spoke through the prophet Isaiah. “The former things shall not be remembered or come to mind. I will rejoice,” God said, “and I will delight in my people;” all my people.  “No more shall the sound of weeping be heard in it, or the cry of distress! They shall build houses and inhabit them; they shall plant vineyards and eat their fruit. They shall not build and another inhabit; they shall not plant and another eat; for like the days of a tree shall the days of my people be, and my chosen shall long enjoy the work of their hands…The wolf and the lamb shall feed together…They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain,” says the Lord. “For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth.”

Let that sink in.  Let that sink in deep…And we’ll come back to it in a few minutes.  There are a couple of other things I want to talk about too.

First, today I don’t want to hear who you voted for. This morning, while we breathe together and pray together, this morning while we very simply come together, I don’t want to hear any pronouns as you describe your vote or the vote you would have cast if you were old enough, or citizen enough. Instead I want us try something else.

What I want to know, what we need to know is not the who of your vote but the why of it.  Because votes are about hopes, and fears, vision, losses, needs. And while we shoot for the rational in this whole scene, a vote is often a bundle of all of those other things. Which means that our votes last week said as much about each of us as they did about either candidate, and probably more.

And so, I want this to be a place, Grace to be a place where we ask each other the kinds of questions that are behind the votes that we cast, the kinds of questions that tell us something important about each other and how we’re experiencing this world. Questions like: What are you afraid of?  What do you hope for?  What do you grieve? What do you need? Those are the kinds of questions that when shared in honest conversation might get us somewhere.  We are a people who are called to share and listen deeply and openly as we and our neighbors respond.

Now because I have a microphone, and because it might help us take these steps, I’ll go first and I’ll share a bit of my own responses with you this morning.

Here are some of my fears:  The rhetoric of this campaign cycle and some of the actions therein scared me – all around – still does. It became OK to say things and treat people in ways that are not OK, and that’s scary to me.  I’m afraid for those who don’t have enough – food, or shelter, legal protections, healthcare, citizenship. I am afraid that some of us could lose protections for which we have fought long and hard. I heard this week that there are over 700 undocumented children and youth in the Holland Public School system and that they are afraid.  And they shouldn’t have to be.

I’m afraid of us losing each other, or maybe more accurately, losing the understanding that we need each other.  I’m afraid that we’ve gotten too afraid.  This earth doesn’t work unless we are bound more than we are divided.  “I am building new heavens and a new earth,” God said.  It is our work to help that new earth come to be.

My hopes: I hope for reconciliation, because I’m stubborn that way.  I hope for genuine, systemic healing on the kind of scale that this world needs. I hope that the desire to love and to care for one another better than we do now takes better hold than it has now.

I hope for a greater and broader equality – which will mean learning and sacrifices on my part too.  I hope for forgiveness, for genuine strength, and for the hearts of those who lead and those to follow to turn toward mercy.

This hoping is hard, hard work and embodying through intent and action it is even harder, but given what we have seen these past months, it is undoubtedly the work we have been given to do.  For “I am building new heavens and a new earth,” says the Lord.  And it is our work to help that new earth come to be.

OK, my grief: I grieve that life is harder than it should be for so many.  While I can’t claim that what we just experienced was a healthy way for the people of a country to express angers, frustrations, incapacities – that’s what happened.  If we managed to before this election cycle, there is no denying now that we are a very broken people.  We are a hurting people.  We are embarrassingly siloed off not only from the world but from people who live just across the street, or on it.  And that reality is in itself worthy of our grief.  “I am building new heavens and a new earth,” says the Lord.  It is our work to help that new earth come to be.

Finally – in this list of questions are my needs:  I need you. I need this – this place that is grace, this time, this prayer, this table which is open to all. I need neighbors, food, shelter, and basic safety, rights and protections and so does everyone else.  I need those who are different from me close to me.

I need help prioritizing the many pieces of life in ways that open me up and make me a vessel of the kind of healing we need, a means by which a new earth comes to be through us all. I need support to stand up to what is wrong, to stand up for what is right, and help discerning what that is. I need support in helping us to be a people who are good.

No please, continue this conversation.  All of you can answer these questions too, all of you can ask them and listen as we and our neighbors respond: What are your fears, your hopes, your grief, your needs, people of Grace and beyond?

Oh and by the way, this week I did many things besides casting a vote. I’m sure you did too.

On Thursday morning I sat with the Chief of Police, a couple of Holland City leaders and a very diverse group of local clergy. We heard about neighborhood police programs, and very real efforts by law enforcement, clergy and other community leaders to be pieces of the fabric that holds us together in healthy and life-giving ways.  We talked about hate being expressed in frightening ways and relationships being built in helpful, productive ways.  We will gather monthly to share stories, name hard truths, offer ideas and work to discern ways forward together.  You’ll hear more about this as we go along.

Thursday evening I was here with many of you as we fed over 150 hungry families.  We served a meal to well over 250 people, distributed over 8500 lbs of food, and lots of laundry detergent and toilet paper too.  We cared for each other.  People served who came to receive.  People received who came to serve. Grace happened on a small scale but on a scale that mattered to every person who was there that night, all of us giving and all of receiving as tables and doors were opened to all.

Friday I stood with students, faculty, and staff in the Pine Grove at Hope College because Latino and black students have been harassed, verbally and physically this week.  Hope is (unfortunately) not unique in this experience. On Friday hundreds of members of that community came together and very simply held hands – for a half hour – in silence – surrounding the Pine Grove and spilling out over onto sidewalks, winding around trees, brushing up against the chapel, breaking open and expanding as the half hour went on.  I grieved and I hoped standing there as I realized that I had stood in almost exactly the same place about 20 years ago.  That night we had gathered in a circle in darkness holding candles because gay students who wanted to enter into Bible Study had been brutally excluded.  There were about fifteen of us there that night.

New earths take time.  New earths take hopes and tears and blood and sweat, forgiveness, mercy and a stubborn, determination that one might call faith.  Nobody said we would all agree on how to move, or that the “new earth” would break in in an entirely linear fashion.  In fact the gospel of Luke this morning said it would be a somewhat terrifying mess!  New earths take you and they take me and they take our neighbors and the power and love of a God bigger than us all.  “But not a hair of your head will perish,” we heard that this morning too. ^“By your endurance you will gain your souls.”  Not because we have something to prove but maybe because “gaining our souls” is more like an ongoing discovery of what we are made of, whose image we are made in.

So this week and every week, talk to each other from places we don’t normally talk, and listen with all that you have.  Engage your neighbors, especially those who are different from you. Claim a stubborn, determined strength that’s not afraid to grieve, not afraid to speak, not afraid of those who are “other.”  Be honest about the privilege and power you have in this world; apply it for good and surrender some. Reflect honestly in diverse and hurting community. Gather in peace.  We have gifts to share.

“For I am about to create new heavens and a new earth,” God spoke. “The wolf and the lamb shall feed together…They shall not hurt or destroy on all my holy mountain.”

May it be so.

Amen