St. Matthew 4:12-23
When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled: “Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali, on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles–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.” From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” 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 fishermen. And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. 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. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him. Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.
In the Name of the Living God: Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Amen.
Certain events in life immediately get our attention. Some are remembered fondly forever. Others are not.
In the not so fun column of life’s surprises is learning that a loved one has been arrested. And look no further than today’s appointed gospel from St. Matthew to see that the arrest of St. John the Baptist, our Lord’s forerunner and kinsman, affected our Saviour’s earthly ministry: “When Jesus heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea.” St. Luke and St. Mark make the same point.
From Capernaum Jesus calls Peter and Andrew, which we also read about today, begins to heal the sick, preaches the Sermon on the Mount, takes up teaching about what He has come to do to save us from sin and death and begins that slow march to Good Friday, the empty tomb and, ultimately, to His Ascension. But make no mistake about it; John’s arrest is a turning point – an unexpected twist – in a storyline that so far seems almost linear.
Using the lectionary from the previous month or so, the storyline has been something like this: Jesus, the Word Made Flesh, has moved from the crèche where the Wise Men worshipped to His circumcision and naming in the Temple right on to teaching in the synagogues before being baptised in the River Jordan, when the heavens opened and a voice proclaimed “This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased.” The lectionary cycle skips Jesus’ temptation by Satan in the desert and picks up today with John’s surprising arrest and the seemingly sudden calling of essentially insignificant and otherwise busy fishermen in chapter 4.
Both of these events – John’s arrest and the calling of Peter and Andrew – underscore the reality that life indeed often has some unexpected turns.
But of much greater importance than simply illuminating the fact that unexpected twists and turns happen, I wonder whether or not St. Matthew is showing us something about ourselves we might not want to ponder, especially given the fact you and I tend to fancy ourselves as completely in charge of things and somewhat immune to big surprises.
Do you remember that scene in Casablanca when Captain Renault, full of himself as usual, is arguing with Humphrey Bogart – which is never wise – and, having all he could stand, jumps up and proclaims, “I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul!” That’s the attitude I’m talking about when I say that we fancy ourselves as in charge of things. Even if we’re not quite that overt, surely we have to admit we’d at least like to be more in control.
The trouble, however, is that neither life nor Jesus will let us get away with such nonsense. You see, the gospel isn’t always delivered on a silver platter as we sail the calm seas of life. In fact, it usually isn’t.
A friend of mine, whose ordained ministry spans almost 40 years, recently retired and the parish where he served held a special rector’s forum where parishioners were given the chance to ask him any question they wanted. One parishioner asked him to describe the most fond memories of his 40+ year ministry. I was expecting something rather grand about Church growth, which certainly transpired under his leadership. But without hesitation, he said his fondest memories were “being present with families after tragic situations happened, because it is so often in tragic situations that the person and work of Jesus breaks through in a powerful and lasting way.”
Brothers and sisters, I don’t know everything that’s going on in your life and you don’t know every little thing going on in mine. Either way, I know unexpected twists and turns are all around us. And I also know that right in the middle of all that affects us – for good or ill – that:
“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.”
And. This. Changes. EVERYTHING.
As plain and simple as I can deliver it in this little homily, the gospel is this: The Light has come into the world.
Let us, like Peter and Andrew and before us, stop what we are doing and immediately – and indeed boldly – walk in it.
Sermon preached by the Rev. Charleston Wilson
The Church of the Redeemer
Sarasota, FL
3 Epiphany 26 January 2014