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The Rev. Richard Floyd Ridgefield-Crystal Lake Presbyterian Church February 5, 2006 Ordinary 5 (B) Mark 1:29-39 You have to stretch your mind a bit to imagine what it must have been like for Simon. He had spent most of his life in that boat, with his brother Andrew at his side, smelling like fish, baking in the sun, with cracked lips and crinkled fingers, day after day after day. It couldn’t have been much of life, fishing in the sea of Galilee. But it kept him fed; it kept a roof over his head. Maybe he dreamed about another life, a less monotonous life, a life with more meaning, more power, more something. But it’s hard to dream when you’re living day to day, fish to fish. One day, that all changed for Simon. A stranger named Jesus walked along the shore and called out to Simon and his brother: “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” The story doesn’t tell why Simon did what he did. But he left his boat—and his old life—on the shoreline behind him. He and Andrew dropped everything to follow Jesus, and more happened on that first day with him than had happened in all the days of their lives put together. Simon invited Jesus to stay at his house in Capernaum. Along the way Jesus called two more fishermen, James and John. Then he stopped by the local synagogue and said a few words and set a man free from a destructive spirit. When finally they got to Simon’s house, Simon’s mother-in-law was in bed with a fever, but Jesus went to her, took her by the hand, and the fever was gone. And the woman was so grateful she got up and started making supper. Word spread that there was a great healer in town, staying at Simon’s house. Crowds gathered outside the door, crowds made up of broken people looking to be made whole. Simon let them in one by one and Jesus healed them. The healings went on into the night, but finally they sent the crowds away and shut the door and went to bed. Now try to imagine what Simon was thinking that night. Up until that day, his dreams had never reached beyond the edges of his little boat. Now he had left that boat behind—which was scary— but look at what he had gotten in return. There was no denying this Jesus had power. What if he really was the messiah, as some were whispering? And here he was, in Simon’s house. Simon was going to be his right-hand man. He would get to be the doorkeeper; he’d get to decide who gets in to see Jesus and who doesn’t— it was his house, after all. Suddenly Simon was no longer an insignificant little fisherman. He was a power-broker— at least as long as Jesus stayed under his roof. But that didn’t last long. The next morning, Jesus was gone. Eventually Simon found him in a deserted place outside of town. He told Jesus the crowds were already gathering again, hoping he’d come back home and set up shop. But that’s not what Jesus had in mind. Let’s go to the neighboring towns, so that I can share the good news there as well. Jesus was not going to stay in Simon’s house. He wasn’t going to set up shop right there in Capernaum, with Simon as his right-hand man, his doorkeeper. Jesus was moving on, and, if Simon wanted to stay with him, he would have to move on, too. Yesterday, Jesus had called him to leave his boat on the shoreline. And he had done it. Today, Jesus was calling him to leave his home, and his dreams of being in control. Who knows what tomorrow’s call might be? Where would it stop? How far would it go? How much would he have to give up? Simon may have been the first follower of Jesus to ask those questions, but he wasn’t the last. Where will it stop? How far will it go? How much will I have to give up? We don’t know how long Simon hesitated, nursing his broken dreams, but eventually he did follow. Jesus gave him a new name, Peter, and a new nickname, the rock, and he became one of Jesus’ most passionate, and sometimes foolish, followers. In his journeys with Jesus, he experienced highs and lows that he could scarcely have imagined floating in his boat on the sea of Galilee. Peter proclaimed Jesus to be the messiah, and the very next moment was rebuked for getting in Jesus’ way. Buoyed by faith, he walked on water; consumed by fear, he sank like a stone. He proclaimed that he would die for Jesus, but when the moment of truth came, he denied ever having known him. Peter did become Jesus’ right-hand man in a way, but it wasn’t anything like he imagined. What an incredible journey Peter began that day he left his boat, and then the day he left his home. He learned that life on the road of faith was a kind of constant leave-taking. Jesus called him not only to leave his boat behind, and also his home, but also all his old understandings of what life was all about, and what God was all about, too. He had to leave it all behind. What would make Peter walk such a difficult road? I guess maybe more to the point, what would make any of us walk such a difficult road? Most of us prefer to be home-bodies, to settle down and stay put. Maybe the only thing that can get us moving, is the hope that the path Jesus offers us, difficult though it may be, sets us free, makes us whole, makes us new. All of us, in one way or another, need that. If I can quote a prophet, Bob Dylan: “Everything is broken. Broken bottles, broken plates, broken switches, broken gates. Broken dishes, broken parts, streets are filled with broken hearts. Broken words, never meant to be spoken, everything is broken. Broken bodies, broken bones, broken voices on broken phones. Take a deep breath, feel like you’re chokin’, everything is broken. Broken treaties, broken vows, broken hands on broken plows. Broken pipes, broken tools, people bending broken rules. Everything is broken.” Everything is broken. But the promise of the gospel is that everything can be made whole, everything can be put back together again. But to claim that promise, you’ve got to follow in the footsteps of the one who never settles down, who never stays put, who can’t be owned or controlled. Sometimes in church, we’re tempted to think we’ve got Jesus here— he’s ours, he’s our possession— and we’ll be happy to share him with others if they will come to our place and walk through our doors and play by our rules. We want to play the part of Simon the doorkeeper. But the Jesus we see in Mark will not be possessed or controlled; he can’t be figured out; he can’t be held down. He’s always on the road, out there in the world, moving among broken people, healing and setting free and making whole and making new. And that’s where we’re called to be, too. That’s where the road leads us. Where will it stop? How far will it go? How much will we have to give up? There aren’t any good answers to those questions. There’s only the call to follow. Peter learned that lesson the hard way. Through his story, maybe we can learn it, too. The life of faith is a never-ending journey, leaving behind us not only our boats, but also all our old understandings of what life is all about, and what God is all about, too. The road goes ever on, and we are called to walk that road, following in the footsteps of one who never settles down. Listen to these words from the hymn we’re about to sing. Lord, you have come up to the lakeshore, looking neither for wise nor for wealthy. You only wanted that I should follow. O Lord, with your eyes you have searched me, and, while smiling, have called out my name. Now my boat’s left on the shoreline behind me, now with you I will seek other seas. That became Peter’s song. Let’s make it our song, too. |