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Homilies by Rev. Andrew Collis unless indicated otherwise.

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Epiphany 3, Year A
South Sydney Uniting Church
January 22, 2017

Isaiah 9; Psalm 27; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18; Matthew 4:12-23

‘Continuity and discontinuity’

The Gospel for today is again the calling of the first disciples. Last week we read from John's Gospel, with a focus on the call of Andrew who invited his brother Simon Peter to "come and see" the kindom of epiphanies and light; then Philip who invited his brother Nathanael to "come and see"; then the Samaritan woman who invited her fellow villagers to "come and see" ... Today's reading is from Matthew's Gospel -- the calling of Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John. The focus is on the four as fishers of fish who will become fishers of humankind. Our artwork is again by Japanese artist Sadao Watanabe. God be with you ...

It's a rich and colourful passage.

Firstly, we learn that on hearing the sad/shocking news of his cousin's arrest (soon-to-be execution), Jesus "withdraws" from Judea (he has been 40 days in the wilderness there), to make a new home in Galilee. He chooses Capernaum, a fishing village in the northern most region. Traditionally, Capernaum was territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, tribal land long ago conquered by Assyria, long "in darkness" according to the prophet Isaiah.

According to the inter-testamental 1 Maccabees, this northern territory, latterly under Roman rule, is "filled with strangers" (5:15). In other words, Jesus withdraws to a place with a mixed population of Jews and Gentiles, a place at the edge of the empire, a place with a tragic history, among a subjugated people, alongside fishers (workers of low social standing). Jesus withdraws, moves to this particular place of spiritual receptivity.

We can be quick to pass by this detail. There's something important here about place, about making a home among "strangers", alongside those who know well the burdens of history and injustice.

As I write this I hear a song by R.E.M. called "Oh My Heart" (2010). Dedicated to the flooded and beloved city of New Orleans, the lyric pledges: "This place needs me here, to start/ This place is the beat of my heart."

The commitment of Jesus might well be sung: "This place needs me here, to start/ This place is the beat of my heart." We can think about tragic histories, yes, and the violence of some over others. We can also think about violence to place, to country, the wounded land and waterways, which are also sites of beauty, inspiration and hope …

Scholars point to the challenges faced by first-century fishers, often constrained by strict quotas and lease arrangements, heavily taxed, living an economically precarious existence under Roman control. Of course, it was frequently arduous and dangerous work.

And it is among such vulnerable people that the kindom is first manifested.

It's helpful to picture Jesus making a home in Capernaum in order to appreciate the depth of symbolism that follows. When Jesus calls Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John, four seasoned fishers of fish, they/we are invited to rethink, to reimagine, the whole enterprise.

The fish, says Jesus, symbolise humankind/people. The sea, we might surmise, symbolises being or perhaps danger, the turbulent world of politics. The net is a proclamation of acceptance and equality, God's own power of reconciliation. The boat is the church, the community of equals, peacemakers and poets.

We might explore what fishing itself can symbolise -- surely not (!) the art of stripping creation of diverse species, a display of human superiority/arrogance/foolishness -- though there is sound biblical argument that "fishing" has to do with catching, that is, exposing, bringing to justice, manipulators and oppressors.

We might consider the theo-poetic meanings of livelihood and nourishment.

These interpretations, and more, are encouraged by Matthew's Jesus who speaks of repentance (radical change of heart and mind), and of an imminent kindom, the essence of which is new relationships (Brendan Byrne).

Whatever we decide it means for disciples to become fishers of humankind, we are guided by a Teacher-Healer who calls us out of old ways of being (and by implication out of old cultural/social/political systems), and into a new power -- an alternative way of life, an alternative community.

I find it helpful to think of the call to discipleship in terms of continuity and discontinuity. The fishers are called to make use of their seafaring/boatbuilding experience, their expertise; their skills as fishers are affirmed, valued, desired. And yet their skills, their lives, are changed utterly; the art of fishing is to be transfigured.

Whatever our skills and passions, they are of value. Our personality, our experience and education, our place of birth and work ... is affirmed. And yet, as followers of Jesus, as fishers transfigured, even as fish caught or gathered in a net of acceptance and equality, perhaps fish in new nourishing waterways (or "schools"), our passions, our lives -- including family attachments and political allegiances -- are recast. We are being made fit for a heaven on earth.

I picture thousands of women marching in Sydney and elsewhere yesterday in defiance of a global far-right movement … One banner read: “Feminism is my Trump card.”

"What counts is who, and what, I am living for ... Who am I serving? Who is the most important person in the world -- me or my neighbour?" (Andrew Prior). My own empire or the kindom of epiphanies and light?

Sadao Watanabe's woodblock print is striking in that it does not depict fish at all. Colours and flowers symbolise renewed vocation and relationship.

Whatever we decide it means for disciples to become fishers of humankind, whatever we decide it means for fish and for humans, we are guided by a Teacher-Healer who calls us out of old ways of being (and by implication out of old cultural/social/political systems), and into a new power -- an alternative way of life, an alternative community.

Yesterday, our elders/carers read together a chapter from Jean Vanier's book, Life's Great Questions (2015). Vanier is a philosopher and writer, and founder of the international community-based organisation, L'Arche, that exists for people with intellectual disabilities. In a chapter entitled, "How can we be of service to one another and to the world?", Vanier, who, like Jesus, made an intentional choice in "withdrawing" to a place of vulnerability and spiritual receptivity, writes:

"Many assistants who come to L'Arche ... want to change the world and they want to develop the skills to do so effectively. They come so that they can learn how to provide a secure and caring environment for people with disabilities, becoming competent in giving showers, in checking medication, even in developing their knowledge of psychology and pedagogy so as to meet the needs of core members. They understand how to be of service in the day-to-day and they are happy to be helpful.

"After a time of working this way, an assistant will probably get quite tired and disillusioned. The work is heavy. Days are long, and breaks seem to pass too quickly. She will only be able to last in L'Arche if she discovers how to live each moment with love. The shower is important not just because it is about caring for the body of a core member, but because of the time spent together. Cooking is not just about putting food on the table, but about cutting carrots together, laughing about failed recipes, or preparing a special birthday meal. Time spent together in the evening is not just for the benefit of core members, it is also a chance for everyone to relax, to tell about things that are new in their lives, to enjoy one another's presence.

"... We must grow in our capacity to love one another; we must grow in our openness to receiving love."

Have you experienced a call to love that was both affirming of your passions and skills as well as inviting you into a new power of being -- an alternative way of life? … Amen.

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