Sunday, November 26, 2017

The Most Compelling Witness the World Has Ever Known

Sermon for St. Andrew's Sunday, Nov. 26, 2017
Matthew 4:18-22; John 1:35-42; Romans 10:8b-18

Here’s your bit of Bible trivia for this St. Andrew’s Sunday: Scripture gives us not one but two stories about how Andrew met Jesus and what Andrew did as a result. It’s something I love about Scripture, actually – that these two stories conflict with each other, and yet, there they are, right alongside one another in the Bible.
One is the story we just heard, from Matthew (and it’s in Mark’s Gospel, too). Jesus has been baptized and anointed with the Holy Spirit, and he’s spent 40 days in the wilderness struggling with Satan. Now he’s begun his public ministry, proclaiming, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near” (4:17). And as he walks by the Sea of Galilee, he sees a couple of brothers, Peter and Andrew, out fishing. Now, these guys must have heard Jesus preaching earlier, because they aren’t zombies, just following anyone who tells them to. But when Jesus makes the invitation, he sets the hook in these fishermen: “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (4:19). And “immediately, they left their nets” and began to follow him (4:20).
So that’s the story we heard today. The other version of this event comes from the Gospel of John. Again, John the Baptist is there, naming Jesus as God’s anointed. And again, soon afterward, Jesus is walking by, and two of John the Baptist’s disciples set out to follow Jesus instead. One of these two was Andrew; the other isn’t named. They ask Jesus what he’s doing and where he’s going, and Jesus just looks back at them and says, “Come and see” (1:39). So, they do, and they spend the day in the presence of the Son of God himself. When that amazing day is over, Andrew runs home to share what’s happened with the person he’s closest to, his brother, Peter; and he says to Peter, “We have found the Messiah!” (1:41). This is why, through Christian tradition, Andrew is remembered, first and foremost, for bringing the renowned St. Peter on board. And it’s why, in our windows over the altar, we see Andrew to Jesus’ right and Peter to Jesus’ left – a little editorializing about pride of place for the guy, as the collect this morning puts it, whose claim to fame is that he “brought his brother with him” (BCP 237).
Of course, after the Gospel stories, Andrew didn’t just fall off the map. In fact, depending on which traditions you want to believe, he went all over the map. Different traditions say Andrew brought Jesus’ good news to Ethiopia, or to Ukraine, or to Russia, or to Greece, where he was martyred on an X-shaped cross. Even in death, Andrew was still on the move as his remains were reportedly taken to Scotland, which is why he became Scotland’s patron saint. And that explains why a bunch of people in Kansas City are wearing tartans and listening to bagpipes as they celebrate this day that honors a Palestinian fisherman.
So, other than giving us a chance to enjoy pipes and drums and tartan, what does all this mean for us? Where are we in these two stories of St. Andrew?
I think both stories of Andrew’s call matter for us because they call us along two different dimensions of our journey as Christians: to be disciples and to be apostles, to put down our fishing nets to follow Jesus and to bring someone along with us. God has created us for both aspects of our calling, for discipleship and apostleship – wired us to follow and wired us to invite. That’s not just true about religion but about all of our life in community. When someone or something offers us compelling answers, we’re more than happy to be led out of our darkness and into the light. And when we find that those answers work for us – whether to lose weight, or grow our portfolios, or find a like-minded community – when the answers work for us, we’re very happy to invite others to come with us, and see.
Next Sunday is the first Sunday of Advent, as well as the official conclusion of our season of stewardship. We’ll gather the pledges we’ve received so far and bless them as a foretaste of all that we’ll receive – pledges of money, certainly, but also pledges of time and talent through the parish survey we recently sent out. And because next week is the first Sunday of Advent, it will also be New Year’s Day, at least as far as the Church calendar is concerned. We’ll start a new cycle of Sunday readings and begin our season of spiritual new beginnings, the time when we prepare ourselves to receive the gift of Emmanuel at Christmas – God-With-Us to dwell in the dirty stables and hang on the crosses of our own lives, sharing everything we live and know and giving us eternal life anyway. It’s a great time for resolutions, as we prepare our hearts to receive our Savior.
So, with the stewardship season winding down and the Church’s new year on the horizon, here’s your call, as a spiritual descendant of St. Andrew. Here’s your call, as a steward of all the amazing gifts God’s given you. Here’s your call, as someone stepping into Advent’s preparation for God to be with you, at your side and in your heart. Your call is nothing less than Andrew’s call: to be both a disciple and an apostle. Your call is to follow Jesus – as Paul’s letter to the Romans reminds us very directly, “If you confess with your lips that Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved” (10:9). And, your call is to invite others along on your journey. As Paul also puts it in Romans, “How are they to believe in one of whom they have never heard? And how are they to hear without someone to proclaim him? And how are they to proclaim him unless they are sent?” (10:14-15) Our call is Andrew’s call, from both of his stories: To leave our nets and follow, and to bring someone along with us.
Now, when I hear someone say something like that, what comes to mind for me are all the reasons why I think I can’t do it. I’m not good enough to consider the Lord of the universe my friend and companion. I’m not really willing to give up everything to become all religious and lose the things I love about normal life. I’m not compelling enough to bring someone with me to some churchy event … and on any given Sunday, I’m not sure what I think about every word we pray in worship anyway.
If you identify with any of those feelings, I think you’re in good company. But here’s the thing. First, you are good enough – God says so. Second, you don’t have to become a nun or a monk or some crazy church person who wears crosses and Bible verses on your t-shirt. And third, you are the most compelling witness the world has ever known.
It’s that last one that makes you stop short, right? How can that be? Well, it’s all about context, and opportunity, and relationship. Here’s what I mean. St. Peter was St. Peter, for God’s sake. He healed people with only a word; he converted thousands by preaching Jesus’ resurrection; he did all that despite his own religious leaders’ attempts to silence him with beatings and imprisonments; he ended up dying a martyr’s death in Rome. Talk about a disciple and an apostle! A person like that would never have listed to me.
Well, probably not – unless, of course, I also happened to be his brother. Andrew didn’t quote Bible verses at Peter, or preach some inspiring sermon to him, or write a theological treatise to teach him the mysteries of God. Andrew simply brought his brother with him to experience something Andrew found compelling on his own journey. Andrew could make the ask because he had the relationship that counted.
So, on this St. Andrew’s Sunday, let me give you this challenge: Ask yourself, what do I find compelling about this journey of relationship with God, and who might I invite into it? There is no single answer to that question; in fact, there are scores of answers to that question. I know of a parishioner who recently started a new AA group that meets here, and its attendance doubled in the first few weeks. I know of a men’s group that had a conversation, over Bible study and beer, about who they might invite to come and join them. I know of a music program that offers prayer and praise, both Sunday mornings and two evenings a month, rivaling the best vocal music in the city. I know of outreach ministries that bring healing to people in our community and change lives for more than 400 kids at a school in rural Haiti. I know of a partnership with the Roasterie that’s providing our own St. Andrew’s Blend coffee, which we’ll enjoy on Sunday mornings here and which we’ll serve in the new HJ’s youth and community center rising up across the street. I know, and see, people before me here today who find some of their life’s best and deepest relationships through this family of St. Andrew’s, reveling together in times of joy and holding each other up in times of pain. There’s a lot that’s compelling about this journey with God that we’re taking together. And some piece of it would be authentic for you to offer as a way to invite someone else to come along, too.
You don’t have to give up your life entirely. You don’t have to become a street-corner preacher. God isn’t asking us to take ourselves out of the world we know. Instead, God’s asking us to connect the world we know with the kingdom Christ calls us to see coming near. Just interrupt your fishing long enough to get to know this Jesus we’re following. Just make an invitation to someone you know to come along and experience something that feeds you. Just leave your nets, at least for a while, and bring someone with you. Because, for someone out there, you are the most compelling witness the world has ever known.

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