Rev. Nick Cheek
1 Samuel 16: 1-13 and Mark 1: 14-20
In our story, we find Jesus in a tiny fishing town called Capernaum (Caper… Nay…Um), located on the north side of the Sea of Galilee. It had a population of just over 1,000. And this is where Jesus begins his grassroots ministry, in a small, unassuming town. Jesus sets out to pick fishermen first to join him on this adventure. They are an interesting pick. As fishermen in Jesus’ day were not known to be the most outgoing and extroverted folks. They spent most of their evenings out on the water working with only a small handful of companions. Some mornings, they would arrive back at the dock after a long night with nothing to show for it but just a few fish. Sources suggest that Andrew and Peter were most likely poorer than the other fishermen in town. Without a boat, they had to stand on the shore, throwing their nets into the sea in order to catch fish. At first glance, one might assume that Andrew and Peter don’t have much to offer this movement Jesus was beginning. Why choose them? What was so special about a couple of poor fishermen?
After inviting Andrew and Peter to join him, Jesus keeps walking down the shore, looking for others. He stops and speaks to James and John. Now, James and John had a little more expendable income – they owned their own boat, and it’s possible they even ran a small fishing business. Judging simply on outward appearances, some would say that James and John had more to offer the movement. Certainly, more than Andrew and Peter. James and John are clearly the better selection.
When I think of this passage, memories of elementary school recess fill my mind. Kids would be running around, swinging from the monkey bars, playing tag or 4-square, and then one of the popular kids would shout, “Let’s play dodgeball.” Everyone would shuffle awkwardly into a line, trying to stand up straighter and look worthy of selection. Two self-appointed fifth-grade captains would start picking kids one by one for their team. I pick Andrew… I pick John… Mary…. Sam… Abby… and on and on it would continue. The more athletic kids would be picked first, or those students who were friends with the captains. Soon enough, one of my deepest childhood fears would begin to well up in me. “Is someone gonna pick me? Do I have what it takes? Or will I be last?”
No one wants to be picked last. And I presume, even today, that fear still shows up and lingers as adults.
It’s fascinating to ponder the method Jesus used in order to pick his disciples. Was there some sort of saintly algorithm sent from heaven above for Jesus to work with? Did he compare them to a gold standard of discipleship to see how much they would measure up? How does Jesus pick us? Does he judge us on our outward appearances, the amount of accomplishments we’ve had, our cultural background, where our kids go to school, where we live in town, the university we attended, or the value of our assets? Does Jesus play the same game we do?
Author William Herzog in Jesus, Justice, and the Reign of God insists that Jesus’ call to discipleship is neither random nor merit-based. It is socially intentional. Jesus calls people from different economic locations to expose how false our usual assumptions about value really are. Jesus’ call is a summons to step out of the worldly social arrangements that determine who matters and who does not. The kingdom Jesus is building doesn’t measure worth the way the world does. We can see this again through our Old Testament passage this morning when we hear the story of David.
As you’ll recall, no one in the story expected that God would ever want David to be King. Not only was he the youngest, but he was also a shepherd by trade – a vocation that wasn’t held in high esteem by the community. Like the fisherman in our gospel story today, David also spent most of his life secluded, out in a pasture, a rugged, dirty, wild place. David wasn’t even on their radar. He didn’t possess the human credentials to be Israel’s King, and everyone knew it. They went through every single one of his brothers first. David was thought of only when Samuel asked if there might be someone else, they were forgetting. Samuel asks them to bring David, the last man in line, and set him up before all the people gathered. And as David gracelessly stands there, looking confused about why he was there in the first place, we hear a powerful statement from Samuel, one that rings strong and clear for us today. “The Lord does not see as mortals see; they look on the outward appearance, but the Lord looks on the heart.”
God saw something in David that others failed to see… and yet, I also wonder if even David failed to see it in himself? Why him? And then again, why me? Why you? Why us?
Elisabeth Schüssler Fiorenza, a Roman Catholic feminist theologian and Professor of Divinity at Harvard Divinity School, writes about the calling of the first disciples. She repeatedly insists that discipleship in the Jesus movement is not grounded in worthiness, preparation, or merit, but in response. She argues that the earliest disciples are not portrayed as spiritual elites or exemplary individuals. Instead, they are people who respond to Jesus’ call within the ordinariness of their lives. She writes, “Discipleship is not the privilege of a few chosen individuals but the calling of all who are willing to follow Jesus in his proclamation and praxis of God’s reign.” For Fiorenza, responding to the call to follow isn’t based on enthusiasm or even confidence. It is about willingness, a willingness to say YES before you fully understand what that yes will require. It is an openness to leaving the familiar behind and taking a step forward with faith.
That morning, as Jesus walked up and down the shore looking for followers, he displayed unusual behavior. Jesus was not a typical Rabbi. His actions were actually in conflict with how rabbis usually conducted their ministry at that time. In that culture, rabbis or teachers were not expected to go out and call their own followers. It was quite the opposite. Students shouldered the responsibility of looking for their own teacher. And even then, these students were treated as applicants seeking the approval of their Rabbi. But Jesus does something entirely different here. He bears the burden of finding us. Jesus went searching for Andrew, Peter, James, and John. He shows up in the middle of their lives… he shows up while they have their heads buried in nets… and he interrupts them. “Come,” he says, “drop your nets. Drop whatever is holding you back. Drop whatever reservations you have. Drop any feelings of unworthiness. Drop your fear. Drop your doubt. Drop your nets and follow me. I pick you… Jesus says.
Friends, our story this morning should feel familiar to Trinity. When you put it all together… the response, the willingness, the step of faith, the dropping of nets…. it starts to sound close to where we find ourselves today. We are a unique congregation. We are smaller than we used to be, but that also means it is easier for us to be more connected, more intergenerational, more communal. We can know each other’s names… how to pray for each other… our struggles, our fears… or hopes and our joys. We are also a church with a vibrant campus. Our campus is not just a collection of buildings and land; it is a place where lives are being shaped every single day. Through the Weekday School and Philips Academy, young children are laughing, sharing, learning, and growing, while older students are being encouraged to develop confidence, independence, and a sense of belonging. Different ages, different needs, but with the same purpose: seeing each person as a gift. Trinity, if you were to walk around the grounds on a weekday morning, you would get a picture of the beloved community; you would get a glimpse of the kingdom of God among us. The fact that this all happens here, on our campus, is not accidental. It is a reminder that God has already been at work among us, even right under our noses. It is a testimony of what happens when we trust God’s calling and walk forward in faith.
We are getting ready to be called again in faith. God is seeking us out. Our Way Forward Implementation Team is working diligently to prepare for town halls where you will have the chance to see the vision that Trinity leadership has been prayerfully discerning and working toward for years. It is a faithful vision that builds upon what God has already been cultivating. In many ways, Jesus is walking along our shoreline, inviting us to be his disciples… incomplete, imperfect… not completely certain… but doing the best we can to follow faithfully. As you begin to hear more in the coming months, I ask you to prepare your hearts. I invite you to practice willingness. Instead of holding tightly to your nets, imagine what it might feel like to let go and loosen the grip a little. Imagine, for a moment, the extraordinary things God might be able to do through us… through you… through this small church with a big mission.
When Jesus called the disciples, he called them in the middle of their work, in the middle of uncertainty, in the middle of a story that was not yet complete. We have been picked, Trinity, not to be favorites, but to be a people. A people willing to step forward, to loosen our grip on what has always felt safe, and to trust that the same God who called fishermen off the shore is still calling a church like ours into new life. When those ordinary fishermen dropped their nets and took a leap of faith that day, their story became a part of history… our history. They become disciples of Jesus, invited to be a part of the Kingdom of God that was at hand. Once they let go of whatever was holding them back, they witnessed miracles.
John Greenleaf Whitter, American Quaker and Abolitionist from the 1800 writes about our calling beautifully:
Dear Lord and Father of humankind,
Forgive our foolish ways!
Reclothe us in our rightful mind,
In purer lives Thy service find,
In deeper reverence, praise.
In simple trust like theirs who heard
Beside the Syrian sea
The gracious calling of the Lord,
Let us, like them, without a word
Rise up and follow Thee.
In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit… amen.