Third Sabbath after Epiphany

Jan 25/27, 2008

Victor H. Nixon

MY CALL TO FOLLOW JESUS

Matthew 4:12-23

Jesus began his ministry, preaching and calling disciples in Capernaum on the north bank of the Sea of Galilee.

Matthew says that Jesus had a one-sentence sermon: "Repent for the kingdom of heaven has come near."(Matt. 4:17) I’m sure there must have been more to it, but that’s certainly a good synopsis. By repentance, Jesus meant much more than regret for mistakes and confession of sins. Repentance is personal change brought about by the rule of God in one’s life, e.g. "the kingdom of heaven." The reality of God’s rule comes near, becomes clear, in Jesus, bringing transformation to human lives.

The kingdom of heaven, as Jesus taught, is both present and future, and represents God’s government that can be and often is at odds with human government, personal and national. The issue, then as now, is which has priority. To follow Jesus means to live by a different set of rules and ethics shaped by God’s politics for which we pray, "thy kingdom come on earth as in heaven," meaning worldwide repentance or change.

Matthew’s text is a vivid illustration of repentance. As Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee he sees two brothers, Simon and Andrew, casting their nets. He said to the fishermen, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately they left their nets and followed him. That’s repentance—radical change in one’s way of life brought about by the grace of God in Jesus Christ. Two other brothers—James and John, sons of Zebedee—left their father mending nets in his boat when Jesus called. They too changed their lifestyles and began to follow God’s rule represented in Jesus. Following Jesus begins with repentance. You can’t really follow Jesus without being changed.

Unlike some who can recall the exact date, time, place and circumstance, I have absolutely no idea exactly when I began to follow Jesus. My parents and grandparents were followers of Jesus, as were my uncles, aunts and cousins, some better at it than others, if you know what I mean. Most of us attended the same little congregation, Lavaca Methodist Church, where I was baptized as a baby and began my journey of faith.

The church was central to our life, thanks to my parents who were models for my early faith. They taught me how Methodists do discipleship—prayers, presence, gifts, service—not just by word but by deed. We prayed at meals and bedtimes. They tithed their modest income and taught me to do so. They modeled the importance of serving Christ in the church in a variety of ways. Most every Sunday we were in church where we were shepherded by a variety of pastors and shaped by sermons preached from the old pulpit behind which was a portrait of Jesus knocking at a door from Rev. 3:20: "Behold, I stand at the door and knock." I came to understand early on the metaphorical meaning of the text and the portrait, namely, that Jesus wanted to enter and to be in my life.

During my elementary years I was nurtured intellectually and emotionally in Sunday School by people like Miss Willie Smith. We called her "Miss" even though she was married to Grady, rather late in life, which could account for the "Miss." Miss Willy loved each of us dearly and expected us to memorize the Ten Commandments and Beatitudes and to learn the story of Jesus.

In worship I also learned to sing the faith from the old Cokesbury Hymnal with shape notes that Lucy Brewer pounded out on an ancient upright piano. I also learned the importance of having a ministry as a boy soprano who often led congregational singing in worship—at least, until my voice changed!

When I was in fifth grade the church had a revival with a guest preacher, Brother Kelly, who seemed to speak directly to me in his sermons. When the invitation was given one night I went down front with my cousin Gary where we gave our hearts to Jesus. Folks back then called it "being saved" or "accepting Jesus Christ as your personal Savior." The following Sunday I took my vows of membership and was confirmed in the faith, a very emotional moment for me as I remember. Following Jesus had become a personal decision for me.

I really expected life to be much different and for my world to change for the better with Jesus officially in my life. But on Monday I had a fight on the school playground and ended up with a busted lip and a black eye. So, much for being saved! I realized that being a disciple had to do primarily with change inside me, if not others, and that such change might take a while because the decision to follow Jesus must be made again and again on playgrounds, at home, at school, at work, in relationships personal and international in the midst of community and conflict.

During my early teen years I was also the church custodian, a job that consisted primarily of dusting the old curved pews, sweeping the wood floors, picking up old worship bulletins, and generally putting the building in order—all for the grand sum of $5.00 per week. My job gave me an appreciation for the ministry of those who maintain churches for our use. I also learned that people are generally messy in church and leave behind a lot of trash, much of which is not spiritual. I felt God in that place and I was doing something important for Jesus and the church.

As a teenager I became active in Methodist Youth Fellowship (MYF). For a small church we had a sizeable youth group that met on Sunday night for recreation, snack supper and a program led by one of the youth, thus fostering leadership development and service. Once a month we met with other youth groups in the Mt. Magazine Sub-district composed of churches from Paris, Booneville, Branch, Charleston, Magazine and other small towns. I made friendships outside of my community and church, both lay and clergy, some of which have lasted to this day. I later served as president of the sub-district. This experience, along with Methodist Youth Camps during the summer at Shores Lake, contributed greatly to my growth in Christian Faith and an awareness of the larger community of faith.

During these years our church was blessed with pastors whom I greatly admired and who became mentors, some planting seeds of professional ministry in my consciousness. "Vic, have you thought about becoming a pastor?" One was H. Lynn Wade, a former District Superintendent and pastor of Central UMC, Fayetteville, who served our little congregation in his retirement years while I was in high school. Brother Wade, as we called him, had a keen intellect and a great sense of humor, particularly about himself. His sermons were powerful, practical and interesting. He also paid me to wash and wax his old Plymouth. He was personally responsible for introducing me to Hendrix College and invited me to drive us in his car to the campus where he introduced me to faculty and staff and where I saw a number of student friends from youth camp and sub-district. Shortly, thereafter, I applied and was accepted.

At first, like many college students, I tended to sleep in on Sunday mornings. Furthermore, the more I learned about life, science, history, the universe, and people the more I questioned my faith. Did God really create the world in seven days? If God is all-powerful, why is there evil and why do the innocent suffer? Are the scriptures literally true? My questions led to conversations with students and professors and writers, like Anselm, John Wesley, C.S. Lewis and others who taught me that the pursuit of truth should take both science and theology seriously, and that the truth in Holy Scripture is more than facts. All the while, I began to understand and appreciate Jesus more as both revealer of God and of authentic human living, who was dedicated not to self but to others, and who taught and lived an ethic of radical love, justice and peace not just for some but for all. Jesus became my Savior in a new sense and, difficult as it might be, I wanted to follow him.

I had also met a cute soprano who sang in the college Chapel Choir as well as the chancel choir of First Church, Conway, so it wasn’t long before I was back in church and singing in a choir for the very first time! Professors, pastors and circumstances during my college career contributed to a renewed sense of calling as a Christian and to professional ministry. Although preparing for law school, it became apparent that I was being called to ministry as well. Upon graduation from college and marriage, I accepted a position as a youth director and entered a period of discernment in which my call to ministry was confirmed. After two years, I entered seminary and pursued the path to ordination as a pastor.

Throughout my life as a Christian I have come to believe that through the community of faith Christ continually calls us to follow him and that the response to do so, the initial act of repentance, involves immediate change, as it did for those early disciples, as well as a life-long process of change, as it also was for them and for me. To follow Christ, I believe, is to enter a life of continual repentance or change after the example of Christ. Discipleship is a transformational journey in and toward the kingdom of heaven. For me, repentance is a way of life in which I am being continually transformed by the grace of God in Christ, invited to change, develop and grow in my faith and witness.

Jesus promised to make the first disciples into fishers of people, a promise confirmed in my own experience. Before I was aware of it, Jesus invited me to follow him through my parents and members of my little church, in youth ministry, and other Christians whose life and ministry have been exemplary. By calling those early fishermen, Jesus created a community of faith that became the context for growth in personal faith and in ministry to others. Such is the church today: disciples called by Jesus, attempting to follow Jesus, and sharing the Good News with others. Christ invites you to join the journey.

There are many things I want out of life, just as you do: Love, happiness, success, peace, joy, a sense of purpose and fulfillment. But what I want most of all is to be a follower of Jesus. Thanks be to God. Amen.