Fr. John McCard
O God be in my mouth as I speak for you and fill this
place with your great grace, that we may leave this place less of what we used
to be and more of what we ought to be, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen
And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you
fishers of men (and women)”. And immediately they left their nets and followed
him.
Having moved into our home this summer, I occasionally
receive mail that is intended for those new to the community.
The funniest one came from a pastor a Brookhaven Baptist
Church inviting us to attend their worship services. My secretary, Pat Gooding,
wrote a thank you note explaining that I was usually busy on Sundays.
This week, I received another interesting letter that I
wished to share with you.
Dear John, Every career reaches a turning point. At that
juncture, the right actions could propel you through a career full of
challenges and accomplishments.
Consider the turning point of your career. Do you have a
plan? By responding now, we’ll give you a no-obligation Personalized Education
Plan that details how quickly you could earn your degree.
Of course, I could not help but think about this letter in
relation to our gospel lesson.
Certainly Simon, Andrew and the sons of Zebedee have
reached a “turning point” in their career as fishermen when they first meet
Jesus.
Although I suspect part of their initial enthusiasm comes
from a desire to be away from smelly fish and mending nets.
Yet it is important that we do not lose sight of what this
“yes” really meant to the lives of Andrew, Simon, James and John.
Looking at how most of the apostle’s ended their lives
reminds us that staying in the boat might have been a healthier option.
James the son of Zebedee was beheaded in Jerusalem, the
first apostle to die during the Easter season of AD 44.
Matthew was slain by the sword in the city of Ethiopia.
Mark was dragged through the streets of Alexandria until
he expired.
Luke was hung on an olive tree in Greece.
James the less was thrown from the pinnacle or wing of the
temple.
Phillip was hung on a pillar in Phrygia.
Bartholomew was flayed alive.
Andrew was scourged and then tied to a cross where he
preached for to the people for two days before he died.
Jude was shot to death with arrows.
Thomas was run through the body with a lance.
Simon Zealotes was crucified.
Peter was crucified upside down in Rome.
Matthias was stoned and beheaded.
John was exiled to the penal island or Patmos and later
became the only apostle to die a natural death.
Christian tradition clearly shows us that there has always
been a cost to being Jesus’ disciple.
Those “Happy simple fisherfolk” who “immediately left what
they were doing” might not have known what the future held. But they knew the
road was not likely to be smooth or well traveled.
The same holds true for us today. None of us ever says yes
to Jesus knowing exactly what lies ahead or what might be required of us.
It continues to be a dangerous world and no amount of
technology or progress protects folks from pain or suffering.
Fifty years ago, C. S. Lewis wrote about a similar notion
when discussing the atom bomb.
Believe me, dear sir or madam, you and all whom you love
were already sentenced to death before the atom bomb was invented; and quite a
high percentage of us were going to die in unpleasant ways…It is perfectly
ridiculous to go about whimpering and drawing faces because scientists have
added one more chance of a painful and premature death to a world which already
bristled with such chances and in which death itself was not a chance but a
certainty…Let that bomb when it comes find us doing sensible and human
things—praying, working, teaching, listening to music, bathing the children,
playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and game of darts—not
huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break
our bodies (any microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds.
Lewis’ words drive home the point that as much as life is
different from the time of the apostles, there is also much that has not
changed about our call to be faithful to Christ.
In saying yes to Christ’s call, in dying to our old sinful
selves, we gain a new appreciation of life by our willingness to surrender
ourselves to God’s will.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer the German theologian killed by the
Nazi’s echoed this sentiment in his book, The Cost of Discipleship.
The call to discipleship means both life and death. It
sets the Christian in the middle of the daily arena against sin and the devil.
Every day he encounters new temptations and every day he
must suffer anew for Jesus Christ’s sake. The wounds and scars he receives in
the fray are living tokens of this participation in the cross of the Lord.
If we refuse to take up our cross and submit to suffering
and rejection at the hands of men, we forfeit our fellowship with Christ and
have ceased to follow him.
But if we lose our lives in His service and carry our
cross, we shall find our lives again in the fellowship of the Cross with
Christ.
We will find our lives in the fellowship of the Cross with
Christ.
When the cross is not at the center of our faith we lose
the capacity to understand the depths of Christ’s sacrifice for us.
It is this understanding of the way that Christ suffered
that can bring a deeper level of meaning to our own struggles as God’s people.
In fact, a gospel that does not acknowledge the presence
of human pain and suffering in the course of redemption will never produce a
Christian faith that is worth believing.
People simply won’t recognize it because it will not
resonate with the daily life they live.
The letter I received this week told me that I had reached
a turning point in my career.
Actually this letter could easily have come to any of you
today. (Actually since it was a form letter it probably did.)
Our lives as Christians are always lived at the point of some kind of critical juncture.
There might be no Roman Empire today but idolatry is alive
and well and the forces that would have us confess “we have no King but Caesar”
still exist in our fallen world.
We are either advancing toward a closer relationship with
God or we are heading in that other direction.
Each day and each moment of our lives we are called by
Christ to confess that he is Lord, to place our trust in God alone and to
follow him, immediately.
This type of faithful confidence is best exemplified in
one of my favorite prayers from St. Teresa
Let nothing disturb you.
Let nothing make you afraid.
All things are passing.
God never changes,
Patience obtains all things.
Nothing is lacking to the one
who has God.
God alone is enough.
Nothing is lacking to one who has God—God alone is enough,
for Simon, for Andrew, for you and for me.