Theme: Here is a sermon on evangelism that doesn’t use the word “evangelism” once.
The text for this week’s gospel reading is a combination of three pericopes which portray the beginning of Jesus’ public Galilean ministry. While Matthew’s description mirrors much of Mark’s version, Matthew’s unique focus on theological nuances and precise historicity bring added details and depth to Jesus’ actions and words.
In the first section (vv.12-17) Matthew takes more than a glancing interest in the “whys” and the “wheres” of Jesus’ new mission. It is the implicit note of danger, of a threat from the local authorities, that spurs Jesus to depart from the southern regions around the Jordan where John the Baptist had been so active. John had been “arrested,” literally “handed-over” (“piradidomi”) and imprisoned by Herod Antipas. Significantly Jesus himself ultimately will be “handed over” in Matthew’s telling of the passion narrative (Mt. 26:15, 16, 21). Matthew declares Jesus “withdrew,” the same verb he uses to describe the stealthy departure of Jesus’ family after his birth (Mt. 2:14, 22), further highlighting the danger of the situation and Jesus’ need to relocate. While Herod Antipas was also the governor of the Galilean region, those northern territories were on the periphery of his concern.
Galilee was a region of mixed ethnicity and religion. Bordered by both Syrophoenicia and Samaria, confined by the Assyrians (the region renamed Megiddo) for a long period, here was a rich region of multiculturalism, with both Jewish and Gentile communities mixing it up in a uniquely pagan, Samaritan, and Jewish brew.
Despite this varied regional culture, Matthew focuses on some specificity of this geography in order to accent a scriptural connection. Matthew notes that Jesus “left Nazareth” and journeyed to Capernaeum, a fishing community on the shore of the Sea of Galilee (which as a fresh water body should more accurately be called the “Lake of Galilee”). Historically this region along the lake belonged to tribes of Zebulan and Naphtali, although by the first century these designations had no real relevance. What is significant to Matthew is that Jesus’ presence in this region can be validated as a fulfillment of scripture. Matthew’s use of Isaiah 8:23-9:1 does not correspond exactly to either the Hebrew or Septuagint, but is grammatically adjusted to suit the precise geographical location Jesus has now inhabited. Although Jesus’ early mission is explicitly directed towards Jews, Matthew emphasizes here that the region was known as “Galilee of the Gentiles,” telegraphing the later post-resurrection focus of the Galilean ministry to “all nations” (Mt. 28:19).
The images of light and darkness were part of Isaiah’s message of hope in a time of hopelessness. Matthew, however, connects this “dawning of light” to a more specific, messianic-invoked event. In v.17 the gospel writer introduces the theme of Jesus’ new Galilean ministry, the proclamation that “the kingdom of heaven has come near.” The message is identical to that expressed by John in Mat. 3:2, but now Jesus is the active inauguration of this “dawning” new age. In this specific time and place, through the actions of the one who brings this light, the mission to bring in the kingdom gets underway.
Jesus’ first kingdom action is to invite disciples to join him on this mission. The second unit in today’s text (vv.18-22) details the call of the first four disciples, a scene that very closely mirrors that told by Mark (1:16-20). From this point on Jesus’ mission and message will be carried out in the midst of a community. Although Jesus will remain constantly on the move, his disciples will create a continuous, witnessing community, an ongoing audience for all he says and does.
The first four disciples, the brothers Simon Peter and Andrew and the brothers James and John, will continue to be the most singled out of Jesus’ disciples throughout the gospel. All four are described as being actively engaged in the regions most prosperous industry, fishing. In fact, the sons of Zebedee have their own boat. There is no reason to see these first four disciples as especially “simple” or uneducated. The text describes them as actively and successfully involved in a prosperous enterprise. Nevertheless when Jesus “calls” and invites them to “follow me” there is no hesitation on their part.
It would be difficult to over-emphasize the unique and unusual nature of Jesus’ invitation. In Jewish tradition, indeed throughout the history of mentors and gurus and sages, disciples sought out a teacher, the teacher did not “choose” students. Yet “you did not choose me,” Jesus said: “I chose you.” And Jesus’ offer of a new job description (“fish for people”) is accepted without question. That these men immediately walk off the job to follow Jesus preaches its own sermon on Jesus’ profound power and presence. Note also how Jesus’ “call” has a prophetic ring to it (compare with Elijah’s call of Elisha in 1 Kings 19:19-21). Jesus is not issuing a mere invitation; he is giving an authoritative order. At the sound of Jesus’ call, Simon Peter and Andrew leave their nets, their profession and their livelihood. James and John leave not only fishing, but family, abandoning the security of a trade and a tribe, in order to follow Jesus.
The final unit in today’s text (vv.23-25) describes the first actions Jesus took after calling his portable community to him. In Matthew’s gospel Jesus’ early successes at teaching, preaching, and healing attracted “great crowds.” These crowds become the congregation for the first “sermons” Matthew records, the Sermon on the Mount (5:1ff).
While v.23 suggests a wide-ranging mission “throughout Galilee,” Jesus’ first efforts were extended to the more traditional Jewish communities in the region. Matthew describes Jesus as teaching in “their synagogues” and speaking to “the people” (“laos”)—-his usual shorthand for “the people of Israel.” For the first time Matthew uses the term “euangelion,” “good news,” to describe Jesus’ message about “the kingdom.” This “gospel” of “good news” is animated by Jesus’ teachings, preachings and healings.
The authority Jesus conveyed to call his disciples to “follow” is equally as persuasive and powerful as he begins his gospel mission.
Coming Alive to the Text
Our text this morning (Matthew 4:12-23) makes crystal clear what it means to be a “Christian.” A Christian is a “disciple” or “follower” (mathetes) of Jesus. Our fundamental identity is not a “leader” but a “follower” or “companion” of Christ.
Anyone here NOT been to a conference on leadership? Anyone here EVER been to a conference on “followership?” Or how about a conference simply on how to be a better disciple? Isn’t it very interesting how we are more interested in Jesus’ category of “Leader” than in our category of “follower?” If we lead at all, we lead from behind. When is the last time we played “Follow the Leader?”
The question of discipleship has come crashing down on what has been arguably the most influential church in the world the past 30 years: Willow Creek Community Church. After a multi-year qualitative study of its ministry as well as 30 other churches, Greg Hawkins, executive pastor of Willow Creek, recently released their findings in a book Reveal: Where Are You? (2007). The conclusion of this study?
The one thing Willow Creek and these other churches thought they were doing they weren’t: making stronger disciples. [If you’d like to show your people a brief video of the findings, here is the link. There is a 13-minute version and a 3-minute version: http://revealnow.com/story.asp?storyid=48.
When the most imitated church in the world and one of the most financially successful churches in the world issues a public apology and admits a big “Oops!” or “We’ve gone down the wrong track” . . . . maybe it’s time to look at this text more carefully and what it means to be a “disciple.”
According to our text this morning, what do disciples do? Two things. First, disciples follow a leader (Jesus). Second, disciples make more disciples. They reproduce. Disciples live and love in such a way that others want to join them in the journey of reproducing Jesus in the world.
Not to be able to reproduce is the worst crisis any species can have----whether that species be a panda bear, a passenger pigeon, a particular church, or a whole denomination (many of whom have gone in my lifetime from mainline to oldline to sideline to offline to flatline). Which makes the reproduction crisis of the church today of such enormous importance.
Here is an image for our crisis: “Lonesome George.”
Here is an introduction to the story of “Lonesome George.” No, not the comedian Lonesome George Gobel (1919-1991), whose mantra was “I’ll be a dirty bird.” But another Lonesome George (you can Google many great images of “Lonesome George”), an 80-year-old, 200 pound bachelor–-a giant turtle.
The story begins almost 200 years ago (by the way, 200 years is about the life expectancy of “Lonesome George”) with someone you may have heard of: Charles Darwin. Perhaps no one in history has been used to support more contradictory theories and agendas than the British naturalist Charles Darwin. As George Bernard Shaw put it, “he had the luck to please everybody who had an axe to grind.”
The two place-names most associated with Darwin are “Beagle” and “Galapagos.” “Beagle” was the ship on which Darwin worked and wrote, the home office (“hoffice,” if you will) of his scientific labors. Ecuador’s “Galapagos Islands” were his laboratory.
The “Beagle” met the “Galapagos” in the autumn of 1835, when Darwin landed on these amazing islands and soon discovered that these far-flung rocks were home to hundreds of “endemic beings”--species found nowhere else in the world.
But despite, or perhaps because of, their middle-of-nowhere status, the Galapagos had already been ravaged by whalers, explorers, and sea-going ships of all sorts. Since the days of Captain Cook, tired and hungry sailors had found the islands--their waters, shorelines, and rocky interiors--a paradise-pantry, offering plentiful resources to restock the dwindling stores aboard the roaming ships.
What was good for sailors’ gullets was bad for the Galapagos residents. The constant hunting and gathering of all these “endemic beings” was the death-knell for many of these one-of-a-kind species. Ironically the distinctiveness of species that helped lead Darwin to postulate his “origin of species” eventually became a prime example of his rules for extinction.
Lumbering about the 3000 square miles in the Galapagos Islands are fourteen differing species of mammoth land tortoises, with nine of those being found on nine different, isolated islands. On northerly Pinta Island the tortoises were thought to have become extinct by about 1906, when turtle-soup lovers came ashore and left hungry.
Much to everyone’s surprise, a snail researcher doing work on Pinta in 1971 suddenly found himself face-to-face with a large land tortoise. Surprised, but still essentially a snail-man, the researcher snapped a picture and went on his way. It took another year before turtle specialist Peter Pritchard wiped his eyes in utter astonishment at the photo of a supposedly long-extinct creature. He named the lonesome creature “Lonesome George.”
Pritchard led an expedition back to the island, located “Lonesome George,” and after convincing himself that there were no other tortoises on the island, hauled “Lonesome George” back to the Charles Darwin Research Station for safe-keeping and observation. Later the skeleton of one other large tortoise was found, as was an intact, upturned shell of a smaller tortoise. But no other living examples of the former Pinta tortoise population were ever located. “Lonesome George” was the last of his kind, the end of the line for this “endemic species.”
Pritchard was particularly heart broken by the intact shell that was found, for it had obviously been hacked by a poacher. In the face of the numerous other resources for food available to hunter, Pritchard declared, in his own words,
a perverse and evil man had made the long journey to [Pinta], climbed the mountain, and finding a single tortoise, had turned it over and hacked it apart with a machete (Henry Nicholls, Lonesome George [London: Pan Books, 2007, 12]).
The solitary surviving Pinta tortoise, “Lonesome George,” is now probably the most famous reptile, the most studied reptile, on the planet. Like Martha, the last passenger pigeon who died in 1914 in the Cincinnati Zoo, “Lonesome George” is a curiosity everyone wants to see and study.
When it became evident that there were no more Pinta tortoises in the gene pool, conservationists thought they could at least breed George with some of his closest genetic relatives, “sort of” saving the species.
But it was not to be. Despite repeated attempts to get “Lonesome George” interested in the opposite sex, the solitary tortoise refuses to date, much less breed. No one knows why. Some say his life has been so isolated from any other tortoise he simply doesn’t “get it.” He doesn’t seem to know how to court others or have any sort of “drive” to reproduce his species. Whatever the reason Lonesome George seems stubbornly determined to be the last of his species. When he dies (and he is now guessed to be eighty to ninety years old, so he’ll be around longer than you or I) there will be no more of his kind again.
A scientist’s greatest dream is to produce some never-before realized results. A scientist’s greatest nightmare is never again to be able to reproduce those unique results. The difference between reproducible and irreproducible results is the difference between a whole new field of inquiry and insight, new knowledge and possibilities, and a mysterious quirk—-probably due to a mislabeled Petri dish or a contaminated specimen.
A unique, astounding discovery can transform our lives. The discovery of a distant relative suddenly transforms an orphaned child into a cherished family member. The discovery of a new source of fresh water turns a desert into fertile farmland. The discovery of a vaccine for polio gave back peace of mind to parents and carefree summers for children, and a future of health for generations.
It was just this kind of life-transforming discovery that is described in this week’s gospel text. As Simon Peter and his brother Andrew tended their nets, expertly casting them out from the shore, hauling them back filled with fish and financial stability, their lives were suddenly, dramatically altered by the sound of a single voice. Jesus of Nazareth called to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people” (v.19). At the sound of that unique voice, for Simon Peter and Andrew, everything changed. They became “disciples” who 1) followed Jesus and 2) reproduced Jesus in their life and the lives of others.
Matthew’s text doesn’t give any indication that Simon Peter and Andrew had ever heard of or seen Jesus before. There is no hint that they have any mutual history. But at the sound of his voice and the issuance of his invitation, the fishing brothers are transformed. There is something beyond their experience that they discover in Jesus’ call, and that discovery demands that they “immediately” put down their nets and follow Jesus into a new life and a new kind of fishing.
It’s the same with James and John. The brothers are carefully tending to their investments, mending their nets while bobbing aboard their father’s fishing boat. They are brothers working together in a family business. As they re-lace the foundation of their future success, they rub elbows with the familiarity of their past, of their roots. Yet when Jesus calls out to them, James and John are also transfixed and transformed. They leave their work, they leave their father, and they follow the new voice in which they have discovered a whole new existence, a new life of reproducing the life of Christ in themselves and those they meet.
What happened after Peter, Andrew, James, John, and the other disciples “discovered” Jesus was the most crucial part of the messianic mission. Jesus himself kept teaching, preaching, healing “throughout Galilee,” gathering new crowds, inviting new individuals to hear the “good news of the kingdom.” Later Jesus sent the disciples themselves out to “proclaim the good news” (Mt. 10:7) and to offer healing and hope to all who would welcome them.
Jesus was absolutely unique, but totally relative and reproducible. Jesus’ mission was designed for reproduction. In his final words to his disciples, to those who had heard and “discovered” the truth about Jesus’ identity and mission, Jesus turned his disciples into a diaspora—-intentionally sending them out in an exodus to the whole world: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit” (28:19). Or in a more accurate translation of what we call “The Great Commission:” “As you are going make disciples of all cultures.”
Reproduction has always been the strength of the church. Each one who discovers the transforming power of Christ for their life has been called to pass on that transforming power to yet another generation. We are all disciples. And all disciples are called by Jesus to continue the work of Christ by calling others to Christ.
So why do there seem to be so many “Lonesome George” churches? Why are there so many “Lonesome George” denominations? Why are our congregations graying so rapidly, without much greening? 75% of all Christian churches in the US are “Lonesome George” churches ----they are dying or declining. You say: well, 25% are growing, right? That’s good news? Well, yes and no. Because 24% of them are growing from the alumni association of the 75%. In other words, there is a lot of hopping and shopping going on (I call them “migrant worshipers”). The game of musical saints is being played big-time. Only one percent of all the churches in the US (that’s only 3000 in over 300,000) are growing by reproducing themselves in people who don’t know Jesus. The number of churches closed, the number of congregations experiencing near-extinction, has grown exponentially over the last decade.
So why are 99% of Christian churches in the US “Lonesome George” churches? What is our problem? What is it that has caused a dearth of discipleship, an inability to reproduce the faith, to pass along the transforming discovery of Jesus Christ to a new generation?
Church planter expert Ed Stetzer has studied 324 churches that experienced significant turn-arounds in the past 10 years. These churches were near death, and yet came back from the brink. What brought them back? Here is a summary of his book Comeback Churches: How 300 Churches Turned-Around, and Yours Can, Too (Broadman & Holman, 2007). From variety of denominational perspectives, the same three “faith factors,” he called them, cropped up again and again:
1) Renewed faith in Jesus Christ and the church’s mission in the world. In other words, these churches “re-discovered” the unique voice of Jesus that calls to each and every disciple.
2) Renewed attitude of servanthood and discipleship, which Stetzer dubs, in a marvelous phrase, “loving what is lesser.” In these non-Lonesome George churches, you begin to care more for your community than for your own preferences. What others need to hear, the voice of Jesus, becomes more important to you than what you like or dislike. In Stetzer’s language, the “sin of preferences” leads to the “sin of a dying church.”
3) Strategic Prayer efforts. For churches to “comeback” from their turtleback status, they need to rediscover the power of the spiritual, most specifically, the power of prayer. A disciple-making community is a praying community.
When Jesus said, “As long as it is day, we must do the work of him who sent me. Night is coming, when no one can work” (John 9:4), some scholars have heard echoes of Psalm 90:12: “Teach us to number our days aright,/that we may gain a heart of wisdom” (NIV). “Lonesome George” . . . his days are numbered. When the Bible teaches us to number our days, it doesn’t mean that OUR days are numbered. It means that we are to make our days count, to make our lives count for God. It is only when we aren’t making out days count, it is only when we aren’t “numbering our days” that our days are numbered.
If there are any “Lonesome George” Christians here this morning, I challenge you with this:
1) Will you hear the voice of Jesus calling you to let him in and then let him out?
2) Will you live a life of mission, not asking God to help you on your mission, but asking God to help you join Jesus in his mission in the world. The Christian life is not about you doing something for God; it’s about your letting God doing something for in and through you.
3) Will you pray that the kingdom of God will come crashing down on you, your family and this church?
Animations, Illuminations, Illustrations, Ruminations, Applications
Quiz:
If a turtle loses its shell, is it naked or homeless?
If FedEx and UPS were to merge, would they call it Fed Up?
“The whole person,” writes Kallistos Ware, “is a person who is on the one side open to God, and on the other side open to other human persons.”
–as quoted in Lorraine Kisly, The Prayer of Fire: Experiencing the Lord’s Prayer (Brewster, Mass.: Paraclete Press, 2004), 50.
Ralph Winter (US Center for World Mission) said some years ago: "Jesus didn't call us to plant churches, He called us to make disciples."
In the New Testament, the Gospel spreads from oikos to oikos. The gospel spreads through relationships or in the context of a person's oikos (in the book of Acts). Here are examples of the gospel infected a whole household/oikos as a result of making one disciple:
. . . Cornelius (Acts 10:2; 11:13-15). . . Lydia (Acts 16:15). . . The Philippian jailer (Acts 16:31-34). . . Crispus, the leader of the Synagogue in Corinth (Acts 18:7-9)
Jesus practiced what he preached. His own cousin (John the Baptist) introduced Jesus to Andrew who then brought his brother Simon (later called Peter) to Jesus. Peter was instrumental in bringing James and John Zebedee to Christ. These all became part of the core team of leaders Jesus mentored for a global movement of the Kingdom. It began in His own oikos and spread via other people's oikos. Jesus had the capability to reach masses in events that would put our own efforts to shame, but He always shied away from mass outreach and invested in oikos relationships that could multiply and spread.
There is not a single command in all of the Bible to start churches. We are not to start churches, but to make disciples who make disciples. The gospel begins in microcosm and then spreads organically to become macrocosm. Trying to multiply large, highly-complex organisms without multiplying on the micro level is very difficult.
Edward Schillebeeckx, winner of the Erasmus prize as Europe’s outstanding theologian, said,
The only correct and adequate answer to the question which was put on all sides in Jesus’ time and which in the New Testament the disciples had also put to Jesus, “Lord, when is the end coming, and what are the signs of it?”, is therefore: do not puzzle over such things, but live an ordinary life as Christians, in accordance with the practice of the kingdom of God; then no one and nothing can come upon you unexpectedly apart from the liberating rule of God himself. . . . It does not matter whether you are now working in the field or grinding corn, whether you are a priest or a professor, a cook or a porter, or an old age pensioner. What matters is how your life looks when you hold it up to the light of the gospel of the God whose nature is to love of all humankind.
--Edward Schillebeeckx, For the Sake of the Gospel (New York: Crossroad, 1992), 28 as quoted in Brennan Manning, Abba’s Child: The Cry of the Heart for Intimate Belonging (Colorado Springs, CO: Navpress, 1994), 147-48.
What do you think the greater need of the church is?
Training authentic disciples in already-existing communities, and training already existing communities to better make authentic disciples?
Or . . . .
Starting up new expressions of community and new programs in disciple-making?
“If the disciples had sung, ‘Give me that old time religion, it’s good enough for me,’ we’d all be wearing yarmulkas.” --James Harnish
When Jesus asked, “Do you love me more than these?” what do you think “these” means?
Does it mean “more than these boats and fishing gear?”
Does it mean “more than you love these other disciples?”
Does it mean “more than these other disciples love me?”
Or does it mean something else?