You might have heard this story before:
One day Jesus began to prepare for a new phase of ministry. So he got out the directory and called Simon to say, “I’d really like you to consider joining the Vestry. We do good work and you get to help shape the direction of our ministry.”
Then he got Andrew on the phone and asked him to think about teaching Sunday School.
Later that day, he was at the Home Depot and saw James and John. They were catching up with each other in the plumbing section, and Jesus told them about a neat outreach ministry that his congregation was starting, and invited them to come to church with him some Sunday.
Everybody then went home and thought about it.
Does it sound like the story we heard Deacon Tom read a few minutes ago?
Or does it sound familiar in other ways?
(It might not even need to be a church story to sound familiar.)
Whether you’ve recently invited someone to teach Sunday school or lead a Calvary event – or to help with a home project, volunteer at PADS, join a book group or team or any other ongoing activity, the story might have gone like that.
In the 21st century, we are generally busy people, tired people, and often unsure of our leadership or not quite ready to try something new – so we don’t insist that people join us,
and we go home and think about it.
So even though I’m very familiar with this story of Jesus’ call to the first disciples, it always sounds a little strange to me.
He interrupts people in the middle of a hard and busy day’s work, offers a cryptic command,(“fish for people” sounds pretty weird to guys using all their strength to haul in a wet, sloppy, fragrant and very heavy net), and immediately they drop what they are doing and change their lives forever.
It sounded weird and inappropriate to Jesus’ contemporaries, too. It may even have suggested to some that he wasn’t a good rabbi – because good rabbis waited for disciples to come to them. Advertising and inviting – much less commanding followers! – just weren’t done.
But some of us may actually long for an invitation like that, an encounter with God that is so clear and compelling that it changes our lives without a moment’s hesitation, easy to instantly accept. I know I want that, when I get busy with details and deadlines.
That’s one of the reasons I love this gospel story. I love the direct, compelling picture we see: Jesus clear on his ministry and mission, issuing a strong invitation, getting a direct response. A simple invitation (well, command): “Follow me,” and God’s chosen people respond immediately.
(Sound attractive?)
I want that for us – for me, for Calvary, for the church and the Christian faith as a whole.
I want us to be so clear in our invitation, so compelling a presence of God, and so in the right place at the right time that people find it easy to turn from what they are doing and join us.
But the life of a congregation can seem very different from those bright, clear, compelling gospel scenes.
And that’s why we’re here today. It’s why we’ve disrupted everyone’s Sunday schedule, and haphazardly mixed 8 and 10:15 regulars into “your” pew. It’s because today is Calvary’s Gospel Story Day.
(I know I invited you to come for the Annual Meeting, but that’s just another name for our Gospel Story Day.)
Today the budget and bylaws and reports are the raw material of the Gospel According to Us.
Think back about 2010.
Remember the schedule swapping? the setup and cleanup and painting? the early mornings and late meetings, the moments of comfort, and chaos, and concern and delight?
Remember that, and listen to this story:
One year the people of Calvary went out to the neighborhood and said; “Hello! We really appreciate how you make this community a great place to live. Thank you!” And people immediately came to a fabulous party, and said, “No, Thank You!”
And again, the people of Calvary went out and said, “Did you know that God is here to welcome and care for you (outside the church) at the vet and on the train platform? Really, everywhere.” And immediately the people in the neighborhood were amazed at the hospitality, and joined in worship, and said, “No one has ever done this for me before. Thank you!”
And the people of Calvary went on throughout Lombard and the region of Chicago, teaching by example, proclaiming the good news with Chili Cookoffs and Vacation Bible School, and caring for those in need or sorrow or joy.
Does that sound familiar?
Does it sound like the story of the call of the fishermen: bright and clear and almost easy?
(And did you notice –earlier – that at the end of the story Deacon Tom read, Jesus goes through Galilee teaching, and preaching, and healing – exactly the mission of our congregation every day?)
It’s a true story. A Gospel Story.
And it’s our story.
In the dailiness of life, and in the midst of all the work of keeping our ministries and building and worship going, it’s tempting to forget that our story is the Gospel Story.
And tempting, on many Sunday mornings, to think the Gospel Story doesn’t sound like us.
But that is exactly what we must remember today:
Today when we choose leaders for our congregation.
Today when we affirm our ministry by careful attention to the budget and the generosity of our members.
Today when we hear reports, dot the I’s and cross the T’s, and say “Thank you!”
Today, when we eat together, and celebrate, and wipe down the tables and clean up the coffee.
We must remember that Sunday School and ECW and Coffee Hour and Vestry meetings and all the other work of our common life are how God builds the Gospel Story.
That God’s call to follow, and to fish for people, often sounds like another meeting, another chore: a fragrant, slippery, heavy net to haul; another busy thing in a very busy world.
That’s the true story for Simon and Andrew and James and John, years ago in Galilee, and it’s true now. Meetings and work and especially cleanup are the true story of a teaching, preaching, healing, people-fishing ministry here in Lombard.
And the true story is also the Gospel story, one that shines with clear invitation, the compelling presence of God, one that makes it easy to join in.
Does that story sound familiar?
It’s our story, after all.
Annual Meeting of the Congregation
January 23, 2011
