On Being Called

Third Sunday after the Epiphany (Year A)

Matthew 4.12-23

St. Gregory’s, Long Beach

Today we hear Matthew’s account of Jesus recruiting his first four disciples: brothers Simon Peter and Andrew, and brothers James and John; fishermen all. Most versions of the Bible refer to this as the “calling of the first disciples.” In the church, we use the unique language of “call” to describe someone being invited into ministry. Called, as opposed to being hired, recruited, drafted, or even volunteered. While “calling” does mean “the vocation or profession in which one . . . engages,” in religious circles it carries the added meaning of an “impulse toward a particular course of action especially when accompanied by . . . divine influence” (https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/calling). Pursuing a ministry because of a sense of being called by God or Christ. Even though we talk about “being called” or having a “sense of call,” it is sometimes misunderstood, even in the Church. Often times, having a “calling” is perceived as being unique to clergy and religious professionals. But that is only because in our process toward ordination, we are continually asked about our sense of call and are required to talk about it ad nauseam.

As we see in our Gospel reading, the call to follow Jesus, the call to discipleship, is not exclusively or even primarily a call to ordained or professional ministry. The life of discipleship is open to all people. The calling to discipleship is open to all people. It is about serving God and Christ in the midst of our chosen fields of pursuit. Jesus does not call his disciples to become religious professionals. He does not call them to be rabbis or preachers or evangelists. He called them to follow him, to be faithful to him, and to help him spread his message. He says, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (Mt 4.19). Actually, a pretty ingenious and non-threatening invitation. He is inviting them to follow him using terms they can understand, based on their profession as fishermen. He is conveying the essence of his ministry in terms they can understand. Terms related to what they already know how to do. Instead of catching fish, they will help Jesus gather people for the Kingdom of God. If they had been teachers, he probably would have said “Follow me, and together we will teach others how to live the Gospel.” If they had been doctors, he probably would have said, “Follow me, and together we will heal the hurts of the world.” If they had been engineers, he probably would have said, “Follow me, and together we will build the Kingdom of God.” You get the idea.

Today’s Gospel, puts the call to follow Christ in the context of those being called. In ways they can understand and relate to. No special “churchy” language that can be confusing to the uninitiated. Merely an invitation to take what we are already doing in our lives and using those skills and talents that we already have and are already good at, and using them to work with Christ to spread the Gospel, to further God’s purposes. That’s a big part of what ministry in the Church is about—helping people identify their gifts, talents, and passions; and connecting them with ministries where they can use them in God’s service. 

That is one of the main reasons we have annual meetings. Well, of course we do it because our bylaws say we have to. We do it because we need to elect new Vestry members and delegates to Diocesan Convention. That’s all the stuff that is legally required. But even more importantly, we have annual meetings as a way of informing our parishioners about the various ministries we are engaged in, honoring those who are engaged in those ministries, and inviting you to join us in using your own gifts, talents, and passions to further the Gospel.

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A Model for Our Faith Journey

Second Sunday after the Epiphany (Year A)

John 1.29-42

St. Gregory’s, Long Beach

During the season after Epiphany, we focus on particular revelations of who Jesus is. Each Gospel reading during this season could be described as an encounter with revelation—the revelation of just who Jesus is as the Son of God. We particularly see this played out in ever increasing ways in today’s Gospel reading. But Epiphany as an encounter with revelation is not just something that we witness or experience. Epiphany also invites a response from us. No, that’s not right. Epiphany also begs a response from us. Epiphany demands a response from us.

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Baptism: Journey of Becoming

First Sunday after the Epiphany – Baptism of Our Lord Jesus Christ (Year A)

Matthew 3.13-17

St. Gregory’s, Long Beach

The day of my ordination as a deacon, those of us being ordained had breakfast with the Bishop before “the big event.” At one point, Bishop Bruno commented that what was about to happen to us—our ordination to Holy Orders—was not the moment we would become clergy. In actuality, we have been on a journey toward and have already become deacons. And that the journey would continue as we eventually became priests, and even as we moved on into our ministries. That this is an ongoing process of becoming. But at some point, we need to make a demarcation, a declaration, an acknowledgment, that we are now something different from what we were before. That we have changed. That we are something new. While this is always an ongoing process, we need a point in time that we can mark as the “official” beginning of our new way of being. That our ordination was merely an official demarcation of what had already been happening in our lives from the beginning of our discernment process, and even before.

As I think about the meaning of Baptism, and particularly as I talked with our baptismal candidates, I realized that the same thing that Bishop Bruno was saying about ordination to Holy Orders also applies to Baptism. The sacramental act of Baptism is not some magical point at which everything changes in our lives. Rather, it is a demarcation, a declaration and acknowledgement of the journey we are on—the journey we have been on for some time. The journey that has led us to acknowledge precisely who we are and whose we are. Baptism is the moment when we publicly affirm where we are in our faith journey. The moment when we are finally able to make a public statement about the journey we have been on and will continue to be on. The journey that has brought us to this point in our lives. The journey that we will continue to make as beloved children of God. In short, the formal dedication of our lives to God. The dedication of lives that have always been God’s. Only now, we realize and recognize what this journey has been about and will always be about.

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Christmas Refugees

Second Sunday after Christmas (Year A)

Matthew 2.13-15, 19-23

St. Gregory’s, Long Beach

During the Christmas season, we have so many sweet and tender images to hold on to. An angel proclaiming “Do not be afraid; for see—I am bringing you good news of great joy for all the people: to you is born this day in the city of David a Savior, who is the Messiah, the Lord” (Lk 2.10-11). Followed by the appearance of “a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying, "Glory to God in the highest heaven, and on earth peace among those whom he favors!" (Lk 2.13-14). Shepherds watching their flocks in the field, receiving this glorious news from the heavenly messenger, prompting them to go “to Bethlehem and see this thing that has taken place, which the Lord has made known to” them. And, the baby Jesus, the Son of God, God in the flesh, wrapped in swaddling clothes and lying in a manger, under the adoring eyes of Mary and Joseph, the shepherds, and, of course, numerous cuddly animals. This is the imagery that the Gospel According to Luke leaves us with this time of year.

To that, the Gospel According to Matthew adds the imagery of magi from the East who follow a star, which comes to rest over the manger in Bethlehem. These foreign travelers have discerned that this star can only mean the birth of a king, the King of the Jews. And to this new king they bring precious gifts: gold, frankincense, and myrrh. While that part of the story is but one of the options for the Second Sunday after Christmas, we did not actually hear it this year. But we know that part of the story anyway, from the Christmas pageant, Christmas carols, and memories of Christmases past. Instead, I opted for what comes after Christmas. What comes after the angels and shepherds have departed. What comes after the magi leave to go home. What happens when everyone goes back to their normal, everyday lives.

For then, immediately after the magi leave to go home, everything changes. Everything falls apart. A fairytale story that should end with “and they lived happily ever after” quickly turns into a melodrama. Worse yet, a living nightmare.

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