Immediately [Jesus] called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him. Mark 1:20

When our son was two years old, he took delight in running everywhere. He didn’t want to hold hands; he didn’t want to walk with us. If he could see a straight shot of sidewalk ahead of him, he would make a break for it and run. The problem was that he would soon come to the corner; and, of course, our immediate fear was that he would run into the street. At that point all we could say was, “Stop! Freeze!”, followed by, “Wait right there!” Short, direct commands designed to keep a two-year old safe.

We hear Jesus in the Gospel passage speaking in the same way, offering short, sharp directives, full of energy: Repent – Believe – Follow. Immediately Simon and Andrew respond. A little further on Jesus sees James and John and calls them, as well – immediately, upon seeing them. There is no room here for Q&A, for discussion, for pondering.

That is Mark’s style. Of all the Gospel writers he uses short sentences that are action-packed; he doesn’t waste words painting a picture or setting a scene. It’s almost as if we can see him watching the sand in the hourglass running out. He’s got something important to say and maybe not enough time to say it in: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near.”

We’ll be spending a lot of time in Mark’s Gospel this year; his is the primary Gospel source for Year B in the Sunday lectionary. Our ears will become accustomed to Mark’ short, sharp, action-packed version of Jesus’ story.

But I wonder if there is more to Mark’s direct and hurried Gospel than just his own particular style. What if this were Jesus’ own sense of urgency for his message and his mission? Both Jesus and John the Baptist called their fellow Jews to repentance; but John stationed himself in the wilderness east of Jerusalem along the Jordan River. People looking for refreshment and a new beginning needed to go to John, however it was they heard about his message and his ministry of baptism to get ready for the Messiah. He was stationary.

Jesus, on the other hand, was mobile, itinerant. He went from place to place, from town to town. Sometimes people approached him, but just as often Jesus was taking the initiative and approaching others. He showed up in places where people gathered – their workplaces, houses of worship, party venues, the public square, the communal water source, dinner parties hosted by people of prominence and authority.

In this opening scene of his public ministry Jesus returns to his home province of Galilee from the Jordan wilderness after forty days of prayer and fasting and being alone with God following his baptism. He was returning home, you might say, a changed man – or certainly a man with a clear mission and purpose.

His mission was to announce that God’s kingdom, God’s dominion, God’s power to reign in the affairs of God’s people and the world as a whole had arrived. And he was calling and inviting anyone who wanted to get on board with that to do so now.

So often much is made of the response of Simon and Andrew, James and John – the first four disciples – who drop their fishing nets, walk off the job, and follow Jesus. But we don’t think much about how that call was issued in the first place. At least here in Mark Jesus sees Simon and Andrew and tells them to follow him. A short while later he sees James and John and calls them immediately.

There is no vetting process here, no resume review, no application to fill out, no mulling over about whether this person standing in front of Jesus would make a good disciple or not. No doubt Jesus’ perception, wisdom, and insight were sharpened and heightened after having just spent forty days on retreat. So he may have seen something in each of the four that he knew would be of value to the work in front of them.

But there’s another layer to this story, another echo of a rhyme with Biblical history. When God called Abram and Sarai to pull up stakes in Haran, the land of their ancestors, and go to the new place that God would show them, they were going off into the complete unknown. There was no proposal made, no discussion, no assured outcome, or even a prescribed destination that could be plugged into Google maps. All they had was a promise from God that they would be blessed and that they in turn would be a blessing to all the families of the earth – an enormous promise with absolutely no specifics to go on. It was a future that was completely unknown, except that God would be in it.

Jesus’ call to the first disciples was also to a future completely unknown, except that God would be in it. Did these four hear Jesus’ call and remember Abraham’s story and sense the connection, the faith, and the blessing? Maybe.

And maybe Jesus’ very short, direct, imperative, words touched a chord with their urgency. Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John had probably all heard about the message and work of John the Baptist, that he had been calling people to prepare themselves for the coming of the Messiah. And they probably would have heard, as well, that John had been put in prison by Herod the puppet-king of the Roman government. So, when Jesus suddenly turned up announcing that God’s reign was at hand – rather than Caesar’s – the fishermen might well have thought this was a mission worth getting on-board with.

We live at a different point in history. Rather than being at the start of Jesus’ mission, we are in the midst of it. What may have seemed like a clear binary choice at the beginning - follow Jesus and work to make God’s kingdom a reality in the lives of God’s People or not  – now often seems much more fuzzy or nuanced or confusing.

Many, if not most of us, have grown up with some form of Christian belief and belonging. The Church has been doing God’s work more or less since the beginning. We have had more than two-thousand years of praying the Lord’s Prayer and asking for God’s kingdom and will to come and be done here on earth as it is in heaven.

We know that we live in a world that is multi-cultural and multi-religious and we know all too painfully what kind of harm can be done by intolerance and insistence on conformity towards people of other faith traditions. And as Americans we have that clause in the First Amendment to the Constitution that we often call “separation of Church and State”; there is much more that could be said about that, but we don’t have time to go into it here. But at any rate a theocracy in America is neither possible nor desirable.

So we are in the middle of Jesus’ mission where our choice, our decisions, our context, and our way forward is not always clear. And Jesus still is calling us forward, just as much as Jesus called Simon and Andrew, James and John; just as much as God called Abraham and Sarah. The call is to us as individuals, as a parish and diocese, as the Episcopal Church, as the entire Body of Christ throughout the world, the Church Universal.

We are called to “Repent – Believe – Follow” and to invite others to do the same. Maybe fewer words are better. Maybe we are living in a time when the clarity and brevity of Mark’s Gospel is what we need. Maybe that will cut through some of the noise and fog that seems to plague our world.

Repent – Believe – Follow. These words are the hallmark of renewal; they can be a touchstone in our Christian discipleship. They put us right in the center of Jesus’ mission in, and for, and through us. They remind us that we are called, like Abraham, like the first disciples, to a future completely unknown, except that God is in it.

Repent – Believe – Follow.

Let us pray.
Lord Christ, give us your gift of grace to hear, heed, and follow your call to be and serve and do that which you would have us do for your glory and for the good of your Church and for the blessing of your world. Amen.
 
Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Third Sunday after Epiphany
January 24, 2021

[Jesus] saw the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.” Mark 1:10b-11

What would you do if you knew you were beloved, cherished beyond measure? I would hope that we all have had that experience – if not now, then at some point in the past. Of course, because we are human beings our expressions and experiences of love frequently get watered down or tangled up. This doesn’t happen because of bad intentions usually, but because we get tired, worn out, confused, overwhelmed with our own neediness; and so we either can’t make the effort to give love, or we have a hard time receiving it.

So, I’ll ask it again: what would you do is you knew you were beloved – full stop? What difference would that make to you, to the way you live with yourself, to the way you “live and move and have your being in the world”?

We know that babies don’t make good progress in their developmental milestones of crawling, walking, exploring, relating to others if they don’t have a sense of security in their parents’ love and care. That love gives them confidence and support to try something new – even if it seems daunting and scary. The love of parents, family, and caretakers surround and support the child. Not only are they encouraged and cheered in their progress, but they are held and given time to re-gather their feelings and their psyche until they are ready to be brave and try the next new or difficult thing. Without this kind of unconditional love, a child’s development is harder and slower.

What would you do if you knew you were beloved by God?

Like so much of Mark’s Gospel, this morning’s passage telling us of Jesus’ baptism is direct and to the point. John, the one often referred to as “The Fore-runner”, the Baptizer, is out east of Jerusalem in the Judean wilderness, preaching and calling people to repentance, to be baptized in the Jordan River as a sign of their preparation to welcome God’s next great act – the appearance of one more worthy than John was. And people came. They had a sense that they needed a new beginning; they symbolically needed to put their past separation from God behind them; they had to put away their old expectations so they could get ready to accept the new.

In going out into the wilderness to be baptized by John, the people were re-enacting (at least on some level), the story of the Exodus when God led the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt, through the waters of the Red Sea, and into the wilderness where they would come to know God’s love, and character, and purpose. The wilderness – no matter where it was – has ever since been a symbol for that Exodus experience; a place to meet God in profound and life-changing ways.

Jesus came too, to be baptized in the Jordan. And as he was coming up out of that River Jordan water, he saw the “the heavens torn apart and the Spirit descending like a dove on him.” And he heard God’s voice saying, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well-pleased.”

As we picture this scene in our minds we need to be clear that the heavens opening, and the dove descending, and the voice sounding was not from far-off above the earth’s atmosphere. The people of New Testament times – including John and Jesus, and Mark – would have understood this experience to be filled with immediacy. God was very close by, just beyond sight normally, almost as if in the next room. The opening of the heavens would have been like opening a sky-light in your house, and letting light and fresh air pour in.

What came to Jesus in that theophany, in that revelation, was the power of God’s love. The baptism was the start of his public ministry, and Jesus was going to need every ounce of awareness of being beloved, of being suffused with the Holy Spiirt, of being energized with divine love for him to be able to carry out his vocation and mission over the next three years.

John baptized with water for repentance; the Holy Spirit baptizes with the power of love.

Today is one of the four great baptismal feast days of the Church, and we will be renewing our baptism in a few minutes. This is one of those days that – if we could – we would have a baptismal candidate. And most often that person to be baptized would be a baby, perhaps dressed in a white christening gown. It would be a wonderful celebration for the family and the parish, a blessing of the child as we marked his or her entry into the life of Christ and the life of the Church; a time of welcome and joy.

But sometimes in the midst of christening a young child the emphasis gets puts in the wrong place and we think about how beautiful the baby is, about the happiness of the event, about the family celebration. All of that is true, but…we can miss the life-changing nature of baptism. We can overlook the high calling of following Jesus, we can let our attention be diverted from the high stakes of Christian discipleship. For those of us who were baptized as children it is important for us to be reminded from time to time of the true nature of baptism – the holy work of the Holy Spirit in us and through us.

For baptism is connected to the Exodus story. It is our being rescued from bondage of sin and death, through the waters so that we may be truly free to love, worship, and serve the Lord our God, just as much as it was for the Israelites going through the Red Sea.

Last week I invited us to begin to ask ourselves who we wanted to be – as Christian people and as a church – when we finally come through this pandemic. More importantly, I invited us to ask who we thought God wanted us to be. And I suggested that preparing to renew our baptismal vows, here at the beginning of the new year, was a good way to start that kind of reflection and discernment. I sent out the five baptismal promise questions for you to think and pray about.

In the intervening days, we have experienced an horrific and violent attack on our Capitol that will take time to fully absorb and understand. But what we do know is that even though there were some religious symbols displayed in the crowd, this was not the Way of Jesus. The vast majority of symbols and slogans represented ideologies and movements that are hate-filled and death-dealing.

So it is even more important that we can gather here today and re-commit ourselves to living the Way of Jesus, to being Christian disciples.

Take a moment and think about one of those promises in the Baptismal Covenant, or one of those phrases in the Apostles’ Creed that might have spoken to you, might have resonated with you. That is very likely the area that God would like you to focus on – at least for now. Ask yourself if there is something you can do or learn or practice that will make your discipleship stronger, truer, clearer.

And if it seems like a daunting task, it probably will be – and that is where the love comes in. The answer to each baptismal promise is: I will, with God’s help. The help that God gives us is the power of love, the power of God’s love – for us, in us, through us.

Jesus stepped into those waters of baptism and came up from the river knowing to his core that he is God’s beloved. Our baptism fills us with the knowledge that we, also, are God’s beloved – even though we have to be reminded over and over and over again, just like that little child taking a few tottering steps and then needing to look over their shoulder to Mom or Dad for reassurance and encouragement, remembering that they are loved.

We are beloved by God. We are called to a life of worship and service that requires courage, truth, and humility; and we will do so “with God’s help”, with the power of love.

Let us pray.
I am no longer my own but yours. Put me to what you will, rank me with whom you will; put me to doing, put me to suffering; let me be employed for you or laid aside for you, exalted for you or brought low for you; let me be full, let me be empty, let me have all things, let me have nothing; I freely and wholeheartedly yield all things to your pleasure and disposal. And now, glorious and blessed God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit, you are mine and I am yours. So be it. And the covenant now made on earth, let it be ratified in heaven. Amen.  ~ Covenant Prayer from the British Methodist Church
 
Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
First Sunday after Epiphany: Baptism of our Lord
January 10, 2021
 

And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor. Luke 2:52

The old year has passed, and the new year lies open before us; let us pray with one heart and mind. Silence is kept. As we rejoice in the gift of this new year so may the light of your presence, O God, set our hearts on fire with love for you; now and for ever. Amen.

Often at the start of a film or novel or television drama there is an opening scene that takes place in a time or location other than the one the main part of the story inhabits. For some people this is an intriguing story-telling device, alerting the audience to some thread or event whose importance will be revealed later on. For others, this is out-of-order scene is just confusing and annoying.

I hope that our Gospel passage this morning is not confusing or annoying, because it does come outside of the chronological flow of the general pattern of the liturgical year. We are in the Christmas season, and Epiphany, when we celebrate the arrival of the Magi in Bethlehem and the homage they pay to the Christ Child, is still to come on this Wednesday; so it is worth asking why we are hearing this particular story about Jesus as a 12-year old today.

There are a few detailed answers to the question, and one major reason. The detailed answers have to do with the intersection of the secular calendar with the church calendar, as well as with the Biblical material itself.

This year, this Christmas season of 2020-2021 is one of those years when we celebrate two Sundays after Christmas (Christmas I and Christmas II). That doesn’t happen every year. And even when it does, we often use the Second Sunday after Christmas to focus on the Epiphany; to make that our Epiphany celebration. But there are three possible choices for the Gospel on this day: two from Mathew and one from Luke. The readings from Matthew are either the Flight into Egypt – when Joseph is warned in a dream to take Mary and the Baby Jesus and flee to Egypt for safety from King Herod’s murderous wrath; or the story of the Magi, which we also hear on Epiphany. The reading from Luke is the one we have this morning, where Mary and Joseph have traveled to Jerusalem for Passover with their son – now 12 years old.

Of the four Gospels only Matthew and Luke give us any description of Jesus’ earliest days. After Matthew relates the Flight into Egypt we only hear a few more verses about Joseph being told in a dream to return from Egypt, but not to go back to Bethlehem and instead settle in Nazareth.

Luke, on the other hand, gives us more. First, the account of Jesus’ circumcision at eight days old in accordance with Jewish Law and custom – which is celebrated in the Feast of the Holy Name. Second is what we know as the Feast of the Presentation, which we also call Candlemas, when Jesus is presented in the Temple at forty days old – again in accordance with Jewish Law and custom – to be offered and dedicated to God in thanksgiving for a first-born male child. We celebrate this feast on February 2nd.

Finally, there is the story we have this morning, about Jesus as a 12-year old. After this we hear nothing about Jesus’ life or that of his family until he begins his public ministry approximately eighteen years later.

This is the out-of-order part for us – to hear this story now. And what a story it is! The family has travelled to Jerusalem for Passover as they do every year, along with a group of friends, neighbors, and relatives all travelling together to and from Nazareth; 80 miles each way on foot. If this is something the family did every year, it is perhaps not surprising that they didn’t know Jesus’ exact whereabouts at first. Walking with a friend or a relative would have been very understandable – after all, what 12-year old boy doesn’t want a bit of independence from his parents? But once  it was clear that Jesus was not in the extended travel party, panic ensued, sending Joseph and Mary back to Jerusalem to try to find him.

In New Testament times that ceremony that we know from our Jewish friends as a bar mitzvah did not exist; that only came into being in the Middle Ages. But a boy’s twelfth birthday was the beginning of increased intensity in his religious and spiritual learning. No doubt Jesus had already begun this, and was intrigued, perhaps hungry for more; perhaps a growing sense of his own identity and vocation was coming to the fore and he wanted to hear from people outside his family or his own synagogue and be able to ask questions about God and the Scriptures and what it all meant. So he stayed behind in the Temple, satisfying his curiosity and sharpening his skills in rabbinic rhetorical debate. “And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers.”

When Mary and Joseph found him in a flood of relief, gratitude, and anger that any parent knows after searching for and finding a lost child, Jesus says in a response that is both cheeky and innocent: "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house? – or ‘on my Father’s business?’” Jesus here is displaying the perspective of his childhood as well as the vocation beyond his years.

The family returns to Nazareth, and we hear nothing more about him until his baptism as an adult in response to the ministry of his cousin John. “And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor,” Luke tells us.

We have this story now, in Christmastide, because it is part of Jesus’ childhood, and so the season stretches to include it. But coming at the start of the New Year, when we often focus on what might be ahead for us, and what we might want to accomplish in the coming twelve months, it is also a lens through which we can view our own spiritual growth and development.

How can we increase in wisdom, as well as in years, and in divine and human favor? The wisdom Luke refers to, of course, is divine wisdom – that sense of being in touch with God; of trusting God’s loving providence; of both understanding God’s purposes for us and for the world, and yet being content with not knowing, with not seeing the whole picture.

Being in “divine and human favor” is not about trying to get God and other people to like us or approve of us; after all, God will never love us any more when we are at our best than he already does when we are at our worst. But as we grow and develop and become more Christ-like we will naturally develop a greater affinity and accord with our fellow human beings; we will see them as siblings in God’s family, not as enemies or adversaries. As we grow in spiritual depth and stature we will pay more attention to our own short-comings than we do those of others, and we will learn to rejoice in the blessings and accomplishments of those around us; the focus will be off of us.

So back to our question: How can we increase in wisdom, as well as in years, and in divine and human favor in this new year?
There are still challenges a-plenty ahead of us in 2021 before we are done with this pandemic and its medical, political, economic, and social and racial upheaval. I know that some days it feels like all you can do is buckle your seatbelt and hang on for dear life, and so the idea doing anything different seems like just too much.

But it has been clear to me for a while now that when this is all over – whenever that may be – we will be different than we were before. We will be a different church. That’s not good or bad; it just is. We will be different than we were before because of what we have all lived through. We will be different because of the people who have moved or died. We will be different because of new people who have joined and will join us. We will be different because the world in which we serve God and carry out Christ’s mission is different. Most of all, I hope we will be different because we will have grown closer to God; because we have been more intentional in wanting our lives to be an embodiment of God’s love and purpose; because we have learned a little better how to listen to God speaking to us through prayer and Scripture and silence – to grow into the full stature of Christ.

So it bears asking the questions: Who or what kind of church do we want to be? And more importantly, who or what kind of church does God want us to be?

There is no instant answer, but these are questions that we need to be asking actively and over time, and to be pondering them and our responses as Mary did when the family returned from Jerusalem.

Next Sunday we will have the opportunity to renew our baptismal vows, as it is the Feast of the Baptism of our Lord. And we will be asked, as we are every time we say the Baptismal Covenant, to affirm our faith in the words of the Apostles’ Creed, and to re-commit to living the Christian life as shaped by the five questions. I would ask you to take some time during the week ahead to reflect on that Creed and those five questions – and I’ll send them out so you can have them ready to hand. Consider if there is an area of your life or faith that you would like to focus on in the coming year; something you might like to know more about, something you want to get better at doing, an attitude or mindset that you would like God to change, or a spiritual practice that you would like to learn, or ways that we together can respond in Christ’s love to our surrounding community as we learn to be truer disciples.

Our renewal as the Body of Christ, as Jesus’ followers – whether as individuals or as the parish as a whole – doesn’t come just by wishing for it, but by prayer and practice. It is my hope that next week’s Renewal of Vows will be an opportunity to start asking those questions of ourselves, and putting ourselves in the way of listening and responding to God in a more intentional way, so that we may increase in wisdom and faith, and so be more truly God’s servants in God’s world.

Let us pray, in the words of St. Paul:
I pray that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give us all a spirit of wisdom and revelation as we come to know him, so that, with the eyes of our hearts enlightened, we may know what is the hope to which he has called us, what are the riches of his glorious inheritance among the saints, and what is the immeasurable greatness of his power for us who believe. Amen.

Victoria Geer McGrath
All Saints’ Church, Millington, NJ
Second Sunday of Christmas
January 3, 2021