Listen

Matthew 17:1-9

Are you listening to me?

Are you really listening?

How many of you have said those words to someone?

Or you’ve had someone say that to you?

You can hear something or someone without really paying attention. We do that all the time. But listening requires attention, response, openness, and often, action.

We need that listening from those who are important to us. We need that responsive, attentive, active listening when we are talking about what’s most important: life and death; who I am, or who we are, together.

We need that from God, and God needs that from us, too.

God even says so, today.

That overwhelming voice in the cloud says “This is my Son, my Beloved, with whom I am well-pleased.Listen to him.”
Listen. Pay attention, respond, be open, take action.

Of course, there’s a backstory to this.
There is always a backstory when your spouse, your friend, your parent or child, says “Listen to me!”

There’s always something that went before when the climate activist, the assault victim, the refugee says “Are you listening?” When the doctor or teacher says “Listen!”

In today’s story, that starts six days before, when Jesus invited his disciples to tell him who they think he is.“You’re the Christ! the anointed one, Son of God!” says Peter.

Jesus confirms it. Then promptly starts talking about how he’s going to suffer at the hands of the religious authorities, be killed, and rise from the dead. And keeps on talking – about how anyone who wants to be close to him, close to the Son of God, needs to deny ourselves, give up life itself, take up our cross – and, some of us, see the glory of God before we die.
There’s evidence in the gospel text that Peter, and many of the disciples, heard that, but were too busy listening to their own ideas, fears, and plans to listen to Jesus about that.

I can sympathize.
I’m a priest and a preacher and I have the advantage of two thousand years of hindsight on the destiny of the Messiah, the “be killed and rise again” details, but I’m still not entirely sure what to do with all this “take up your cross / give up your life” that Jesus is saying.

I hear it pretty well.

Since I’ve been in church all my life, I’ve actually heard this a lot. And now it’s not novel and exciting enough, most days, to get me to pay close attention. It’s just scary enough, or uncomfortable enough, that I’m not eager to ask for more. 

And there’s a lot of other noise in my head and heart that makes it harder to listen as Jesus says all this : the noise of cultural and personal expectations, the clamor of the urgent things in my schedule and on my desk and in my house; the other people who want me to listen. 

Maybe that’s different for you. But I know many of us find it hard to see how this applies here and now.  I mean, I’m pretty sure I don’t literally need to be crucified (We don’t do that anymore, right?!). And  “deny yourself” has a lot of room in it: Are we talking about renouncing chocolate ice cream or Facebook to be a nicer person, or about giving up my home, and living on the street?
I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond, so… I just don’t.

Don’t change what I’m doing, apply what I hear, pay deeper attention, ask for more.
Which means I’m not really listening.

For Peter and James and John, what Jesus said was just as hard to literally apply, just as uncomfortable and more scary. Plus, for them this whole speech sounds like a denial of their conviction that Jesus IS the Messiah, the Son of God we’ve been waiting for. It’s all so confusing.

It’s easier to nod: “I hear you,” and wait and see what comes, than to change what they’re doing, apply what they hear, ask for more.

And so God brings Peter and James and John up a mountain, surrounds them with cloud, dazzling light, and the great heroes of faith, and says:
This IS my Son. Listen to him.

Listen.

Don’t tune out the things you don’t want to hear, the things you don’t yet understand.

Do accept what Jesus says as relevant to you, as authoritative for your life. Get into it. Explore it. Try on ways of “taking up your cross”; until you figure out what it means. Explore, seek, do all that other stuff Jesus says: about being salt and light to the earth, reconciling with one another, loving your enemies, giving and forgiving. Get moving when Jesus says to you, “Follow me.”

Of course, I know that’s easier to say than to do.

God knows that’s all easier to hear – even to approve of – than to listen to: to obey, to apply, to trust.

So everything that’s happening today to Peter and James and John – that bright cloud and thunderous voice, the blinding transformation of Jesus, the appearance of the two faith heroes closest to God, the healing touch at the end that brings them back from terror – all of that is meant to make their listening possible.

It’s a reassurance and promise: You were right, after all, Peter. Jesus IS the Son of the living God. You’re feeling that reality on your skin, your eardrums, your retinas right now. Even though a few days ago you were sure he couldn’t be the one if he’s going to let the corrupt authorities kill him, you were right that Jesus is the one you have been waiting and longing for.

More than reassurance, it’s a vivid, overwhelming, raw experience of the Presence Of God for John and James and Peter. It’s that experience of REAL that convinces heart and soul beyond any doubt.

That powerful experience of awe – of unnerving wonder, amazement – that opens us up to new possibilities, to change, the same way that the rush of overwhelming love for a child, spouse, parent, or friend opens us up to possibility and delight and sacrifice and hope in listening to them.

God wants us – you, particularly; me, particularly; all of us – to listen to Jesus.
Not just to hear, but to believe that what Jesus tells and teaches us is relevant, important, meaningful to our daily lives. To treat what we hear from Jesus as authoritative, real, and specific guidance for the here and now we live in. To respond to what we hear; to act.

And God will give us what we need to make it possible.

A few of us, like Peter, and John, and James, get the powerful, bright, thunderous and even terrifying experience of the raw and powerful presence of God that blows us wide open. Or a slightly quieter but still awe-filled moment of the presence of God in sacrament or in crisis, meditation or action that opens our hearts to listen in a new way.

Many of us – like all Jesus’ other disciples – get Peter, and James, and John themselves; the friends whose experience of God, whose trust in the reality and presence of God is so powerful that you begin to feel it too.

Or we get the beloved Sunday-school teacher or annoying squeaky wheel in Bible Study who makes you stop and listen over and over until you catch the habit of listening for yourself; the mentor or loved one whose love for and belief in you opens you up for listening to God; in heart and action as well as ears and mind.

Listening, you know, is a form of love: love that God calls us to and pours out on us. Listening is the way we grow in love and relationship, with God and one another.

And I have no doubt that God listens – really listens – to us; pays deep and close attention to our words, our hearts, and our actions, and responds with all we need to bring us closer to God.

No doubt, either, that somewhere inside every one of us is the longing for who and what we will be when the word of God is true within us, when we have learned to listen to Jesus and one another with our whole hearts, mind, soul and action.  In each of us is the longing for who we will be when every single “Are you listening?” becomes “I know you’re listening to me.”

Amen.

People-Fishers

Matthew 4:12-23

Look how easy it was for Simon, I think.

Easy for him and Andrew, James and John.

Jesus comes right to them while they work on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. Jesus personally invites them, in clear, direct and simple words: Follow me.

Even tells them what they’ll be doing: I’ll teach you to be people-fishers.

And it must be easy, right? Since Peter and Andrew, James and John all immediately drop what they are doing to go after Jesus. It must be clear that this is it, the thing they’d been waiting for all their lives.

I know they have doubts later. I know it doesn’t turn out to be entirely fun. Some of it’s scary, lots of it is confusing. I’ve read all those stories too.

But today it sounds so clear, so easy, so unmistakeable.

Why doesn’t Jesus sound like that to me?

Have you ever wondered that?
Wondered why God seems to speak directly to some people, while you feel cloudy and uncertain? Wondered if God really has a plan for you? Wondered if what you’re doing or deciding is the right thing, but don’t know how to be sure?

If you’ve wondered that, you’re not alone.

I know that many – probably most – of Jesus’ followers here and now, and over the centuries of our faith, have the foggy, less certain experience of God’s call to us as individuals. That relatively few followers of Jesus have one clear, bright, specific moment when Jesus speaks and it’s not just easy, but energizing, compelling, and exciting to respond.

I know this, but I still have call envy.

It’s not just this story, either. I have colleagues and friends who always seem to hear Jesus’ voice so much more clearly than I do.

Friends who just know that God wants them to plant a church, or lead a scout troop, or to respond to one particular person who walks into their life, and who have stories of wonderful results or insights from that thing God called them to.

I spent years being envious of people who knew for certain that God had called them to priesthood, while I was confused about my uncertain longings and hopes, unsure about the usefulness of my talents and skills, and pretty sure the church didn’t want me.

I can tell you today that hindsight lets you be a lot more certain about what God’s up to in your life than present sight. And that a genuine, fruitful, powerful call to ministry or parenthood or healing or service often feels very much at times like confused longing, foggy hope, and a mix of potentially useful skills and niggling doubt.

And that you may still envy someone else’s certainty even after your own particular gifts and work are affirmed and celebrated and fruitful.

And – since I never envied doctors certain about their call – I can also tell you that if you envy someone else’s particular certainty that they are called to be an engineer or parent or teacher or scout leader or singer or whatever, that may be a sign that you’re called to that too. Or something like it.

So if you are envious that Jesus is so clear with Peter and Andrew and James and John, it might be a sign that Jesus is actively calling you to follow him – you just wish you knew how.

As a matter of fact, one thing I am sure of right now, even if you’re not, is that Jesus is, in fact, calling you.

Calling each of us. If you’re here today (if you’re reading this), whether you came reluctantly or enthusiastically, whether you’re listening for it or not, Jesus is calling you.

God calls some of us to specific things, sometimes: to do a particular job at a particular time, or to take on a role in life like teacher or healer or spouse. And some times that’s more clear than at others.

But now, always, Jesus is calling all of us exactly the way he calls Simon and Andrew, James and John.

“Follow me!”

It’s a call to be close to God.

That may, in fact, have been easier for John and James and Andrew and Simon, who could get up out of their boats and physically walk along right behind Jesus. Could touch him. And Jesus could tell them in normal human conversation what he wanted them to do. That he wanted them to be people-fishers, or later, to hand out bread and fish to hungry people, to come up a mountain with him and meet God, or to go out to a particular place where people need to hear good news.

It may have been easier for those first fishers to be close to Jesus, but it’s very, very possible for each of us, too.

Many of us here are already following Jesus actively – some of us with clarity, some of us with great uncertainty.

When there’s no physical Jesus to follow, we have to follow the story. Have to immerse ourselves in scripture, particularly in the gospels, but also all the stories of the followers of Jesus, the followers of God. Many of you are involved in a regular Bible Study here or elsewhere, or specifically working on following Jesus in a Discipleship for Episcopalians or “Friends with Jesus” group.

If you’re not, you can be. Talk to me.

Several of you, I know, have a practice of paying attention to the good, the healing, that God is doing right now in the world. Some do gratitude journaling, others just take note of where ever you see God at work in your daily life.

When we immerse ourselves in the story, and watch for God at work, we’re doing exactly what Andrew and Peter, John and James did in the story we read today – going around after Jesus and listening and watching as he proclaims good news, and heals the sick.

It’s also important to remember if we are “following” that means that God does the work of leading.

Father Mychal Judge, a Fire Department of New York chaplain who died in the attacks of September 11, 2001, used to pray every day:
“Lord, take me where you want me to go;

Let me meet who you want me to meet;

Tell me what you want me to say;

And keep me out of your way. Amen.”

That kind of prayer is one way to make sure we’re letting God do the work of leading; to help ourselves follow in trust.

My friend Rob [known in the Diocese of New Jersey as “the church growth guy” or “the discipleship guy”] says that to be a disciple of Jesus, to follow Jesus, is simply to live and love like Jesus and help others do the same.

Because the good news isn’t just that Jesus is calling us close, even when it’s not as clear as we like. The good news is also that Jesus calls us, just like James and Andrew and Simon and John, to be people-fishers. To help others catch Jesus.

Which doesn’t necessarily mean going out on the high seas – the streets, the shopping malls, the internet – to reel people in. It’s much more likely to mean helping the people we love and who love us, the people we’re already close to, notice what God is doing in their lives, to notice their calling to be close to God, when they find it hard to hear it themselves.

People-fishing with Jesus means it’s actually easier to be with the people in your life who need something that you don’t know how to give – because you let God do the giving. That’s just a matter of getting used to looking for what God is up to in the people around us. To look for what God is offering to the people around us every day, and let them know what you see.

You and I are called, like Peter and Andrew and James and John, not just to be close to Jesus, but to be people-fishers with Jesus. Not the hard way, the way Jesus never does it: baiting hooks to reel in strangers. But the way we wish we could when we hear or see it happen to someone else. When we hear Jesus say: Just follow me. Hang out with me.

Pay careful attention to what I’m doing – notice the good news and the healing and the love.

And you will be people fishers too.