Leaving It All Behind
a sermon based on Matthew 4:12-23
by Rev. Randy L Quinn
I was in San Diego
again last week, and like most of my trips to San Diego, I called my
cousin who lives there and we went out to eat. And like every other
time I’ve been there, it began with Cheryl asking me what I wanted
to eat.
Each time I go, she
takes me to a different restaurant where we try to remember whose
turn it is to buy. This time we ate at the “Fish Market,” a
combination seafood restaurant and fresh fish market. It’s on the
waterfront, and the smell in the air in and around the restaurant
was filled with the distinct aroma of fish. It was a fitting place
to stop and reflect upon our text for today.
I imagine the smell
was not all too different that day when Jesus walked along the
shores of Galilee. There were probably a few stands where the catch
of the day was being offered for sale, and I’m sure that many of the
men who caught those fish were either mending their nets or cleaning
the fish. Others were taking care of their boats and getting ready
for the next catch.
Not many of them were
thinking about how their efforts had changed life for the fish,
however. J
I like to eat fish,
but I don’t particularly care for fishing, so I’m always
appreciative of those who know how and take the time to catch fish
so I can eat them. My dad, on the other hand, doesn’t care to eat
fish but he loves the sport of fishing. In fact, he makes a fishing
trip to Alaska each summer with some friends. I always look forward
to those trips because he invariably brings us back some
fresh-frozen salmon and halibut.
Unlike the men my dad
goes to Alaska with, however, the fishermen that Jesus meets along
the lakeshore make their livelihood catching and selling fish. And
they use an entirely different technique to catch them, too.
Dad, like most people
who engage in sport fishing, catches one fish at a time at the end
of a fishing pole. And many are the trips when he comes home
without any fish. (And in fact, we joke about it because if I go
with dad, no one ever catches a fish!)
Peter and Andrew, as
well as James and John, use nets to capture multiple fish. It isn’t
for sport. Their lives depend upon the catch. And the more they
catch, the better off they are.
But it’s hard work.
For the fish, however,
it’s a different story. Instead of one fish at a time, whole groups
of fish are pulled from the water in the same net.
Two recent animated
movies were about fish, Finding Nemo and the more recent
Shark. Both portray the life of fish as having meaning and
purpose as living creatures. Neither film suggests that life is
better for the fish once they’ve been caught and taken above the
surface.
For the Jewish
fishermen who knew their scripture, it clearly was not a good thing
for the fish. They could recall the words of Ezekiel:
'This is what the Sovereign LORD says: "‘with a great throng of
people I will cast my net over you, and they will haul you up in my
net. I will throw you on the land and hurl you on the open field. I
will let all the birds of the air settle on you and all the beasts
of the earth gorge themselves on you. I will spread your flesh on
the mountains and fill the valleys with your remains. I will drench
the land with your flowing blood all the way to the mountains, and
the ravines will be filled with your flesh.
When I snuff you out, I will cover the heavens and darken their
stars; I will cover the sun with a cloud, and the moon will not give
its light. All the shining lights in the heavens I will darken over
you; I will bring darkness over your land, declares the Sovereign
LORD. (Ezek 32:3-8)
Not a very pretty
picture for the fish, is it?
So I began to wonder
what crossed their minds when Jesus invites these four men to join
him on a fishing expedition, not one taken on a boat with a net, but
one that would take them into the cities and towns where Jesus would
repeat the message spoken by John the Baptist before him: “Repent.”
What does it mean to
take people out of their current circumstances, and create a radical
change – as radical as taking a fish out of water?
A few weeks ago,
during my daily devotion time, I found myself reading a hymn that I
had known, but never really thought about.
In it, George Matheson suggests that true freedom can only be found
when we allow ourselves to be bound up and imprisoned.
“Make me a captive
Lord, and then I shall be free.”
You may have heard his
story before, but I recently read about a man who thought he was
called to be a pastor, but he didn’t like school. He decided
against college and joined the Marines. After being discharged from
the Marines, he gave college a try.
To help defray his
living expenses, he borrowed $900 and bought a pizzeria and renamed
it “Domino’s”. And the rest, as they say, is history. He had 6,100
stores when he sold the chain.
But do you know why he
sold it?
Tom Monaghan had lived
a life of extravagance. He owned his own baseball team. He had
expensive cars and expensive homes and expensive furniture. (By
expensive, I mean a car worth $8 million and a Frank Lloyd Wright
dining room set worth $1.6 million!)
But as a
multi-millionaire, he found his life lacked purpose and depth.
He remembered his
first love – his love for God – and found a way back to the calling
he had as a youngster. He sold it all to support mission work. He
hopes to die broke, but his life has a purpose now. He wants to
bring as many people as he can with him when he gets to heaven.
He has found that true
freedom is to be found in service. He found that only by repenting
could he find true happiness.
The sad part for many
of us is that we think repentance has a “capital R.” We think it is
a one time experience that changes the direction of our lives rather
than a series of smaller decisions throughout our lives that affect
our lives. We don’t like to think of repentance with a “lower case
r.”
That gets too
personal.
We like to hear about
the miraculous conversion of a drug dealer or politician. We like
to hear the story of how Christ changed the direction of a movie
star.
But we’re just little
fish in the pond who don’t want to take the bait for fear we may
have to change.
We don’t want to
change the way we relate to our parents.
We don’t want to
change the way we spend our money.
We don’t want to
change the way we spend our free time.
We don’t want to
change.
But until we change,
God can’t use us.
In the book I just
finished reading Erwin McManus makes a distinction between accepting
Jesus as our savior and accepting him as our Lord.
Too many of us, he suggests, are content with having a savior. We
don’t want to submit ourselves to the will of God.
We want to have Jesus
as a friend, not a master.
And I remembered that
hymn once again.
“My will is not my own
till thou hast made it thine.”
We cannot follow Jesus
unless we are willing to let him be the leader. We cannot be
included in his fishing boat unless we leave behind what has become
familiar.
But there is also
something comforting in realizing that Jesus called these fishermen,
even though they had not been trained. He called plain people like
you and like me and promises to be with us every step of the way.
Thanks be to God.
Amen.
