Sermon for St. Andrew's Sunday, Nov. 21, 2021
Matthew 4:18-22
This week, a parishioner asked me whether
I ever literally heard the voice of God.
It led to a great conversation among the group around the table about where
and how that might happen – how we hear God in Scripture, in worship, in the
experience of nature, and especially in the voices of the people God puts in
our lives.
Well, when Jesus came and spoke to Andrew
and Peter there by the Sea of Galilee, don’t you wonder whether they
understood it was the voice of God calling them? We know the end of the story, but it was just
the beginning for them. Plus, this was
no comforting message of divine love and affirmation; instead, it was pretty
confrontational. Jesus was calling them
away from their lives and their livelihoods, asking them to see themselves not as
members of their family or cogs in the wheel of the Roman Empire, but instead
to see themselves as members of a new community living out God’s reign and rule
and inviting other people into it.
Whether they knew Jesus was speaking literally with God’s voice, I don’t
know; but they certainly got the message that God wanted them to follow along.
What about us? How do we hear Jesus calling us to follow
him?
I think most often, the call comes with subtlety,
in whispers and nudges, rather than the direct approach Jesus used with
Andrew. During the process toward ordination,
I remember being part of a “vocations conference,” which was a polite term for
a weekend of interviews. There were
probably 10 of us in a circle in a hotel meeting room, along with members of
the diocesan Commission on Ministry; and the evening began with the inevitable: “Share the story of your call.” One of the aspirants told a dramatic tale about
standing on a balcony in a storm and hearing God calling out to him, in the
thunder and lightning, that he was supposed to be a priest. My story was much less interesting, and for a
long time I wished I had a dramatic tale to tell. But it is what it is, as they say. God’s been walking alongside me for decades
now, whispering and nudging and correcting and affirming; but rarely is there thunder
and lightning involved.
Of course, however Jesus raises the
question with us, we don’t know what saying “yes” to a call will entail. For example … a woman named Mary Sanders came
to work in our office 15 years ago, filling in for a staff member on maternity
leave. Today, we honor Mary as she
prepares to retire. Now, I don’t know
what Mary thought about the offer to come and work here, but I doubt it felt
like a call from the Almighty. And I
wonder … if Mary had known then what was awaiting her – 15 years of service to
clergy and staff, and members of the community, and so many of you; pouring
herself out for the well-being of us all – if Mary had known then where the
road would lead, would she have said, “Yes”? Maybe it’s like parenthood: If you knew in
advance what it would cost, would you sign up for it? It’s the hardest job you’ll ever have but
also the best one, because it’s not a job but a holy calling.
So, back to Andrew, our patron saint. What makes his story special? What made him willing to be a disciple, to follow
Jesus when he called, and then to serve as an apostle, going where the Holy Spirit
sent him? Looking at his story, I can
see some attributes of sainthood that I’d say we’ve also seen in Mary Sanders, in
her time among us.
First, Andrew was open to God’s presence, activity,
and direction in his life. The stories
of Matthew, Mark, and Luke tell us precisely nothing about Andrew before his
call. But John’s Gospel tells us Andrew
had been a follower of John the Baptist and that he’d paid attention when John pointed
to Jesus and said, “There’s the one you should be following.” Just that detail about Andrew, that he was a
follower of John the Baptist first – that tells me Andrew at least had his spiritual
ears on, so to speak. In today’s Gospel
reading, it seems kind of crazy that Andrew and Peter would hear a wandering
preacher call their names and just follow along like zombies. Surely not; that doesn’t ring true. I think, instead, God had already been working
on them. As part of John the Baptist’s renewal
movement, Andrew was primed for what the Holy Spirit might do next. John the Baptist had been calling people to
turn away from their sins and turn toward the reign and rule of God
instead. John had told folks that faithfulness
isn’t about being on the right team or having the right affiliation; it’s about
turning your life in a new direction and bearing fruit worthy of that repentance. And, John had said, someone is coming who is
greater than I am, someone who won’t just wash you with water as you turn from
your sins but who will set your heart on fire with the Holy Spirit. I imagine Andrew and Peter had talked a lot about
all this while they were out there for hours on their fishing boat. So, when Jesus walked by, they were ready.
Of course, being ready and actually taking
the step are not the same things. A
second attribute of sainthood Andrew showed was that he was willing to drop his
nets and walk away from the boat. That only
merits a short sentence in Matthew’s Gospel, but it’s huge. Everything Andrew knew would have told him to
stay in the boat. It was his job, of
course, but it also was his family business.
His father was depending on Andrew and Peter as “his workforce and his
retirement plan.” Plus, the family
business was on the hook to the Romans, too, who required them to turn over
part of the catch.1 Walking away
was a huge risk for Andrew and the people he loved. But still, he dropped his nets and
followed.
Then there are the stories of Andrew that
come to us from church tradition – how he made the move from disciple to
apostle, taking the hope and promise of life with Christ on the road. Andrew found new kingdom-oriented ways to use
his gifts. This fearless fisherman
turned to fishing for people instead, dropping his nets again and heading off
for parts unknown. Some traditions tell
of him going to Ethiopia. Others have
him traveling to what’s now Ukraine and Russia – and Andrew is the patron saint
of Russia for that reason, as well as being the patron saint of Scotland. Most traditions say he eventually ministered
in what’s now Greece. There, his tenacity
landed him in trouble with the authorities, and he was crucified on an X-shaped
cross. He gave everything he had because
he knew that what he was pointing toward was so much more valuable than just getting
by in the here and now. I’m sure being
an apostle was much harder than being a fisherman … but it was also the hardest
work you’ll ever love.
So, there’s the story of St. Andrew. And at the risk of canonization that I have no
authority to confer, I’d say it’s also the story of Mary Sanders in her life
among us. I know her to be someone who
listens closely for God’s voice – in the places you’d expect to hear it, like
Scripture, but also in the voices of unexpected prophets who speak for God without
realizing it. I also know Mary to be
someone who’s willing to drop her nets and step into territory that isn’t
necessarily familiar or safe, and that might even be risky, when she hears God
asking her to grow, or change, or say something her boss may not want to
hear. And I know Mary to be someone who’s
willing to step out in faith, taking the gifts and skills that God’s given her
and using them in new ways to keep blessing one child of God after
another. It will be a joy to see where
her journey of apostleship takes her next … in addition to her grandchildren’s
house.
So, to what extent is the story of Andrew the story of each of us? Do we have our spiritual ears on? Are we willing drop the nets that bind us and step out of the boat? Are we willing to explore what Jesus might have in mind for us next and take God’s love on the road? Today, we look forward to what’s next for Mary Sanders. But what’s next for you? The Word is very near you – on your lips, and in your heart, and in Scripture, and in Bread and Wine, and in the person sitting next to you. Open your ears to hear the call, drop the nets that bind you, and set out on the path God’s asking you to take.
1.
Carter,
Warren. Notes for the Gospel According to Matthew. The New Interpreter’s
Study Bible. Nashville: Abington, 2003. 1753 (note).
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