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Sermon - January 27, 2008


“Cell Phones, Fishing Rods, and a Lighthouse or Two”

By Rev. Nancy Foran
Matthew 4:12-23
Quite a few years ago when our younger son, Tim, was in middle school, more than anything else, he wanted a cell phone. Now, this was back in the ancient past when only many children (but not all) had one. This was back when having a cell phone in your pocket or being able to pull one – preferably a ringing one – out of your backpack had just become an important sign of stature within the middle school culture.

Tim tried on numerous occasions to convince Joe and me that it was essential that he have his own personal phone. “Why?” We would ask. “Why do you need your own cell phone?”

Perhaps needless-to-say, Tim had a million reasons. He needed one in case a friend should have occasion to call him – or if Joe or I needed to reach him to confirm his whereabouts. And what about the times he might be stranded and in need of a ride home?

It did not make a bit of difference to his logic that he was always with the friends who might call him, that Joe and I always made a point of finding out where he was going before he left the house, that there always a phone available to call if he ever needed a ride.

Tim spent countless hours researching the best deal on cell phones and presented us with numerous proposals on almost a daily basis for several months running. To make a long story short, he went even through a period of time with a broken one hanging on his belt, though that was hardly a long term solution, because a broken one never rings.

The ringing, you see, was important. I mean, have you ever noticed that people always answer their cell phones? Nobody ever lets a cell phone ring and ring and ring – or, if they do, it makes everyone around them very nervous. If your cell phone rings, you answer.

Having recognized that, it should go without saying that, if Jesus was serious about offering folks like you and me the opportunity to be disciples, he ought to use a cell phone. Really, the imagery of fishing is totally outdated. He would definitely have better luck with the cell phone idea. Because, face it, when Jesus calls us here in his church to really be his disciples and fish for people, a good part of the time we act as if we never heard him.

Does this make any sense at all? Maybe it will help if I tell you a story written by Thomas Wedel. To keep with the water imagery we have going now, this story is about a lighthouse – and it could certainly happen in Maine because we have a lot of lighthouses here all up and down the coast.

Now this particular e lighthouse was located on a very dangerous part of the coast where there were lots of shipwrecks. The rugged rocks jutted up out of the sea, and the waves crashed against them, capable of splintering any wood that got caught in the wave action, dragging beneath the surface any object sucked into the undertow. Consequently, the lighthouse was truly a beacon of safety. Its warm glow lit the way to a safe harbor for every ship and crew that navigated that part of the coastline.

Now this lighthouse was a very simple one and had just one lifeboat, and the people who volunteered to pilot the boat and to keep the lights burning were committed to their work and kept a constant watch over the untamed sea. They looked for distressed ships and went out day or night to save the lost ones even in the slightest danger of hitting the rocks.

In fact, over time, they saved so many lives that lighthouse became famous and lots of people flocked to it, all most desirous of supporting its important work. So they bought new boats, recruited new crews, and formed lots and lots of committees. And before they knew it, the lighthouse had turned into a bona fide lifesaving station.

And when that happened, the people wanted a better place to welcome those survivors pulled from the sea, and so they replaced the emergency cots with soft feather beds and the army-issue blankets with goose down quilts and comforters. What is more, the people could not help but enjoy just getting together to congratulate each other and talk about all the rescues they had made over the years – which turned out to be a lot more fun than actually doing the life-saving missions.

Then one day a very large ship smashed against the rugged rocks. Though the people were a little out of practice, they did make a rescue and brought in all sorts of folks. Some were first class passengers and some were deck hands, but they all were cold, wet, dirty, sick, and half-drowned. And what a mess they made of the lighthouse! The carpets got dirty. The goose down comforters got wet. The upholstered furniture got water stained.

Well, you can imagine the grumbling. Most of the rescuers wanted to stop the life-saving activities because they were both unpleasant and expensive – and who wanted those types of people in the lighthouse anyway?

Of course, a few people pointed out that, after all, this was a lighthouse and its primary purpose was to save lives. But they were voted down and told that if saving the lives of dirty, cold, wet, half-drowned people who were stupid enough to travel on a boat that was going to be smashed to smithereens on the rugged rocks of the coast was what they wanted to do, then they could do that in their own lighthouse down the coast somewhere. And perhaps they did. The author does not tell us one way or the other.

OK - as you have probably already surmised, this story is not really about lighthouses – just as Jesus could not really call anyone on a cell phone – even if he wanted to. The story is about churches, about we who frequent them, and about how easy it is to be drawn away from discipleship and from doing the work that Jesus calls us to do.

And that is where the little Gospel story that we heard this morning comes in because Matthew wants us to reflect upon discipleship and what it means to follow Jesus.

Remember how Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee and saw Peter and Andrew casting their nets into the sea because, after all, they were fishermen? And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will be sure that you fish for people.” And Peter and Andrew dropped their nets and followed this man they really knew nothing about except that there was something about him and something about what he said that they just could not resist.

Hey, you like to fish? Come fish for people. You, over there – you like to garden? I’ll show you how to harvest a few souls. You, yes, you, getting out the chips and dip - you like the Patriots? Listen to what I have to say, and you will be scoring through the goalposts of life.

There is a truth for us – for you and me - here in Matthew’s story because it is not really about fishing – or gardens or the Superbowl. Just like Thomas Wedel’s story is not about lighthouses and shipwrecks. Both stories are about discipleship. Both stories are about answering Jesus’ call – even if He does not use a cell phone.

The truth and meaning of Matthew’s story is that Jesus says to us, “Hey, come and follow me. If you do, I will see that you fish for people, and if you give it half a chance, it will change your life.”

One of my favorite novels is A River Runs Through It by Norman MacLean, who begins his narrative this way:

“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ’s disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.”

“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing.” And so it should be for us. There should be no distinction between what we talk about in this church on Sunday mornings and what we do when we walk through those doors and go home each week.

That connection between who we say we are as Christians and how we live our lives as Christians lies at the very heart of discipleship. Though Matthew does not say it, surely Jesus did. “I have cast out my rod and hooked you, and if you allow me to reel you into God’s Kingdom, oh, the joy you will have as my disciples.”

I will call to you, and you will hear the power and authority behind the words, the cries, the shouts, the whimpers. A child will yearn for comfort, a spouse for forgiveness. You will warm the heart of an elderly friend with the touch of companionship. The hungry will hold out their bowls to you. The blind will murmur, “Be eyes for us, fishermen; help us to see.”

And we will cast out our rods to them. Or, to use Thomas Wedel’s imagery, we will send out our lifeboats. Why? Because we are disciples. Because we are life savers. Because we are fishermen. Because there is no clear line between religion and fly-fishing. Because, as Norman MacLean concludes his novel:

“Eventually all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the word’s great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words.”

“Come with me, and I will make you fishers of men.”