Clearly, I would fail the discipleship interview.

Matthew 4: 12-22 (23-25)

¹² Now when Jesus^[a] heard that John had been arrested, he withdrew to Galilee. ¹³ He left Nazareth and made his home in Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulun and Naphtali, ¹⁴ so that what had been spoken through the prophet Isaiah might be fulfilled:

¹⁵ “Land of Zebulun, land of Naphtali,
    on the road by the sea, across the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles—
¹⁶ the people who sat in darkness
    have seen a great light,
and for those who sat in the region and shadow of death
    light has dawned.”

¹⁷ From that time Jesus began to proclaim, “Repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.”^[b]

Jesus Calls the First Disciples

¹⁸ As he walked by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon, who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. ¹⁹ And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” ²⁰ Immediately they left their nets and followed him. ²¹ As he went from there, he saw two other brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and he called them. ²² Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him.

Jesus Ministers to Crowds of People

Have you ever had a really memorable interview?  I have had one or two memorable interviews.  I interviewed with the call committee of Luther Memorial sitting on the floor outside of the door of my apartment in Mexico City while my then one year old twins screamed bloody murder with my husband inside.  Fortunately, there was also a colossal thunderstorm booming outside of the building that night which helped to drown out the wailing.  It was memorable.

In today’s bible story, Jesus brings four new disciples onto the job.  And I’m betting it was a memorable day for all of them. I wonder if Jesus vetted the guys on the beach there along the sea of Galilee. Did he try and figure out if they had the chops for this discipleship business before he brought them on board? You see, maybe there’s a side conversation that happens that our bible doesn’t record for us:  you know where Jesus says,

So, Simon, (I think I’ll call peter) how are you with demons? …Or, so James, son of Zebedee, now, say you were in a desert with no water and you needed to baptize someone.  What would you do?”  …Or, Andrew, now I see you casting that net into the sea.  Could you tell me about a time when you ran out of food or wine at an important event? How did you handle it?

If interviewing for the job of disciple were a thing, I’m not sure how I’d fare.  Jesus clearly tells them to leave their lives and livelihoods and follow him.  While I do not like fishing and would have had no problem leaving that, I love my family and there’s about zero chance that I would leave them to become an itinerant preacher searching for lost souls.  Given my tendency to overpack, I’m pretty sure Jesus would have been annoyed with me and my 75 pound rollerbag suitcase bumping around the hills of Galilee.  There would have been too many crowds for me as one of the disciples, not enough personal space, and I wouldn’t have liked all the time in the boats.  As Barbara Brown Taylor puts it, we hear this story and, she writes, “immediately start worrying about whether [we] have what it takes to be a disciple.  Could you do it?” She asks “If a clear call were to come to you tomorrow afternoon, could you get up from your chair and walk out the door, without taking your keys or turning off the lights?  Could you abandon your grocery cart in front of the frozen food case at [Marianos] and set off for parts unknown without stopping to call home?”  Because that’s what those four first disciples did when some guy named Jesus stepped into their lives and said “follow me” And I don’t know, if I have what it takes to do that.

According to this bible story, it can seem like the way to follow Jesus is to become “not me”—to leave the things I love and the experiences that have made me behind and set out for something More Noble. It’s a little dramatic and truthfully, it seems a little unrealistic to me.  Honestly, I hear this story of the day at the beach when Jesus called the disciples, and my focus is on how much these disciples gave up, when, actually… it’s Jesus who says to them,  I will make you fishers of people.

And then he does.  I will make you, he says to them.

To follow Jesus doesn’t mean we must check the requisite boxes of qualifications and have our selves totally together all the time. To follow Jesus doesn’t mean we must stuff our lives into some sort of cookie cutter kind of Christian mold.  Instead, we follow Jesus through the moments that make up our daily lives: through the halls in the office, around the baskets of dirty laundry, to and from our particular commitments each day.  And as we go about our daily lives, we open ourselves to what Jesus told the fishermen: I will make you.

Not as a threat, as Debie Thomas puts it, but as a promise.

I will make you. 

I will work on you,

mold your mind,

make you more sensitive to injustice,

soften your heart. 

I will make you

I will prune unruly branches,

teach you to stand up for yourself,

humble you down a notch,

lead you to be kinder,

heal your wounds,

I will make you.

I will convict you when you become complacent,

call you out when you are ridiculous,

stretch you to new places,

I will make you.

I will help you to forgive,

teach you to be more compassionate,

open your mind,

make you brave

I will make you. 

I will make you into a disciple.

Debie Thomas writes further that “Jesus did not invite [the disciples] to abandon who they were, he invited them to become their most authentic God-ordained selves…A call to follow Jesus,” she goes on to say “does not mean to leave experience and intelligence behind but bring the best”--the very best of who we are--“forward.”

When I think about the ways that God has transformed my own life, it hasn’t really been about some sort of terrible thing I had to sacrifice or give up.  That’s not to say that sacrifice isn’t a part of discipleship. It’s to say that, in my case, God has worked on me gently. For example, in the grief of losing a loved one. In the ins and outs of life, God has softened my edges slowly; and then when I bristle them up, God pulls out the file and softens them more.  I have had moments of real resentment and disappointment with the church—still have them sometimes—and God has worked on that resentment and handed it back to me differently.  I will make you, God promises.

God has slowed me down and helped me to notice and listen. God has held up a mirror when I’ve been a little too full of myself. And stayed close by my side in the dark nights of my soul. Like water running over stone, and slowly carving out a pattern, year after year, God works on me.  And then I mess it up. And God works on me some more.  Yeah, there has been some sacrifice and sometimes some sweat, and some moments of solid embarrassment, but God is working in my life.

And you? How is God making you? How is God dropping seeds deep down into the soil of your mind and tending to them? Who is God calling you to forgive? What is God calling you to let go of or lean into? What is God bringing out or magnifying in your life?

The disciples in today’s bible story are the very same disciples that question and doubt Jesus they even deny and abandon him later.  They are so unqualified. And so imperfect. And yet, Jesus makes them into disciples.

I will make you.

I suppose it is so very cultural of us with our resumes and our linked in profiles and our lists of extra-curriculars to try and show how qualified we are.  The thing is that when it comes to Jesus, the very things that qualify us to be disciples are probably the things we would hide in an actual interview: our uncertainties, our struggles, our vulnerabilities, our ordinariness.  These are the very things that God uses to make us.

I will make you…

Almost 45 years ago, a group of ordinary Northside congregations formed the Night Ministry.  Regular, old, average people in pews of 20 congregations came together and began a ministry that today this congregation faithfully serves in to provide food and medical services to people experiencing homelessness around the city. Those people years ago, they followed Jesus.

I will make you…

Less than 10 years ago, this congregation saw a need and worked with partners to help open a second branch of the Friendship Center food pantry which serves the often invisible folks who are hungry in this neighborhood. You followed Jesus.

I will make you…

Last Winter, the LMC church council had this wild idea that we might be able to participate in Chicago Open House and welcome folks into our sanctuary.  (What!?) One visitor I met (when I happened to be wearing a clergy shirt) commented to me about the rainbow flag we have in the back of the sanctuary and took a picture of it.

I will make you…

Last Spring, a couple of members expressed concern about the sex abuse scandal at Waters and wondered if we might be able to pull off a forum for parents and students in the following couple of days.  We did. And several hundred community members come through our doors to find solace, and community.

I will make you…

In this congregation, we dialogue, we disagree, we do our best to listen and with the Holy Spirit as our guild, Jesus will make us into who he needs us to be.  And then God will make us again and again.

Our only task is to be open enough for God to captivate our imaginations, to steal and then transform our hearts, to bring this vision of a Kingdom of God alive in our souls until we can’t help but live it and strive to reflect this astounding beauty of who Jesus is in our lives.  We tell people about how God is transforming us and alive in our lives and the world, and the rest is up to God.

I will make you… Jesus says.

I will make you, LMC.

And then he says, Now follow me.

Can I get a witness?

John 1:(1-9), 10-18

In the beginning was the Word,

and the Word was with God,

and the Word was God.

He was in the beginning with God.

All things came into being through him,

and without him not one thing came into being.

What has come into being in him was life,

and the life was the light of all people.

The light shines in the darkness,

and the darkness did not overcome it.

There was a man sent from God, whose name was John. He came as a witness to testify to the light, so that all might believe through him. [John] himself was not the light, but he came to testify to the light. The true light, which enlightens everyone, was coming into the world.

[the Word] was in the world, and the world came into being through him; yet the world did not know him. He came to what was his own, and his own people did not accept him. But to all who received him, who believed in his name, he gave power to become children of God, who were born, not of blood or of the will of the flesh or of the will of humanity, but of God. [power to be born of God].Can

And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father's only son, full of grace and truth. (John testified to him and cried out, "This was he of whom I said, "He who comes after me ranks ahead of me because he [existed] before me.' "From his fullness [from Jesus’ fulness] we have all received, grace upon grace. The law indeed was given through Moses; grace and truth came through Jesus Christ.

No one has ever seen God.

It is God the only Son, who is close to the Father's heart, who has made [God] known. 

The very first church that I ever pastored was this tiny congregation in a little village called la Cañada. It was about 30 kilometers outside of the city of Tegucigalpa.  I wasn’t yet ordained, but there was a serious dearth of ordained pastors, so I got this special dispensation from the bishop to do communion and lead church.  To say I had no idea what I was doing is an understatement.  I was 23 years old, fearless and embarrassingly earnest.  (You think I’m earnest now, you have no idea…). Mostly I played a lot of guitar with don Mauricio and drank a lot of coffee at people’s houses.  There wasn’t electricity in the community and there were those problems that come along with acute poverty: hunger and a lack of health care and formal education.  My uppity liberal arts education didn’t do me many favors and preaching in that community was a bit beyond me.  Usually, what ended up happening instead of a sermon was that I would suggest a question or ideas to the congregation and folks would comment and reflect.

There was a woman in the congregation who was a teacher at the local elementary school and she was called la “Profe” (for professora). It probably took me a solid year in the community to realize that the profe’s name was actually Blanca.  On Sundays at church, as folks shared stories of where they had seen God in their lives, (or where they felt a decided lack of God), Blanca would listen and nod her head and energetically and say, “asi es, hermana, asi es” which means something like “that’s right. That’s right, my sister” or “that’s right my brother.” Occasionally when she felt really emphatic, she would start adding some “amens” in there.  Asi es, hermana, amen! Amen, hermano! 

Sometimes she had her own stories too—and one couldn’t help but nod along and yeah, even I learned to say a few Amens.  Blanca was quick to see and notice Jesus in people’s stories as they shared.  In the way she responded, It was almost like she was pointing right at Jesus and saying, “Did you see Jesus?! Did you see that?” “asi es! amen hermano” just to make sure that everyone else saw that Jesus had showed up in that person’s life.

Noticing when Jesus shows up is easier sometimes than others.  This last week, we’ve seen our fair share of difficult moments on the big national and world stage and I could use a little Jesus showing up.  In fact, I would define some of these moments as particularly shadowy: escalating unease in the middle east, a shooting in a church in Texas, brutal violence in a New York rabbi’s house, devastating fires in Australia. This is to say nothing of some of the anxiety and sadness that some people in our communities feel as we come off of holidays or grieve for those who are no longer with us. The shadow is unsettling.  Maybe I’m actually a little glad that we’re still in the Christmas season today and focusing on Jesus Emmanuel, God with us.  Because we could really use a little light in the darkness right now.  

In these beautiful verses that I read a minute ago from the beginning of the gospel of John, there’s this light that shines in the darkness.  But there is also a world (our world) that doesn’t know that Light or accept it.  What is needed, scripture says, is a witness: someone who will say, “yeah, I see God here. Yeah, I see what God has done.”  Someone who will give a testimony.

In today’s scripture, it’s John.  Some call him John the Baptist, some call him John the Testifier.  But it’s John who shows up to testify to the truth of Jesus, son of God the Word made flesh.  In retrospect, I see Blanca walking in those footsteps of John the Baptist because no matter the circumstances, she would witness to the presence of Jesus our light in the shadow. 

Asi es, hermana.  That’s right my sister.  God is here.  Dios esta aqui. I see Jesus in that story. 

As followers or disciples of Jesus, we’re called to bear witness to God’s presence in our lives and the world.  To be a witness is to say, “Behold.” Behold! the hand of God in my life. Behold! I see God’s presence in your life.   

…But actually…I don’t really use the word “Behold” very often.  I’m guessing you don’t either? I mean, I’m a pastor so arguably, I use the word more than you do.  Honestly, I don’t use the word testify so much either. Especially when we’re talking religious testifying or witnessing.  In fact, there are moments when “witnessing or testifying” seems like it might be an activity that is better suited to John the Baptist or my friend Blanca.

I will confess to you that the last couple of Ash Wednesdays, I have taken Ashes to the Western EL stop, And--I admit it--my nerve falters for a moment to stand with the masses in my pastor collar and rainbow stole and smear ashes on 1 out of 30 people’s foreheads and tell them they are dust.  A lot of folks don’t make eye contact as they walk past me or they pull out their phones.  I kinda want to make a sign and tape it myself that says, “I promise, I’m kind.”

We live in times where witnessing or wearing our faith on our sleeve isn’t our M.O. Maybe we equate “witnessing” with pushing our beliefs down someone’s throat. Or we think it has to do with talking about some kind of hellfire or condemnation or judgement.  Maybe we think will offend people if we talk about church or God.  Maybe we ourselves have been offended?  Maybe we don’t know what on earth we’d say. 

I hear it and I get it.

But I’d say that we witness all the time about things that are important to us. We witness and tell the truth about how much we love the TV show “This is us” or about the delicious-ness of a new restaurant we’ve tried. We bear witness to the things going on in our family or at work. We witness to the wins and accomplishments (or failures) of our sports teams.  We tell people about the things that matter to us all the time.

Witnessing about God isn’t so different.  It’s not about sounding some kind of judgement alarm or assuming you have some superior understanding of THE HOLY than the person you’re talking to.  It’s about talking about where we see God alive and moving: maybe at home, maybe in someone’s kindness, maybe at work.

I’m not just talking about an extraordinary or miraculous experience of God (although those are certainly important) but more: How has God opened your heart? Torn down your walls, convicted you in your impatience or selfishness or self-righteousness? How has God ignited a passion for justice in you? Softened your edges? Made you more humble? Led you to think twice? How has God led you to use your financial resources differently?   Where is God Immanuel, God with us, alive in the world? Where has God built bridges in your life? where is God coaxing you across some bridges? How has God calmed your spirit? Stuck with you in your sadness? Ignited a sense of Holy urgency in your life? changed you?  Where do you sense God working in the midst of so many challenges in the world right now? 

And then tell someone. Tell a friend, your kid, your spouse.

Ask someone. Ask your sibling, someone at coffee hour, your neighbor.

When we talk about what God has done and what God is doing in our midst, we actually sharpen the focus on how God is alive around us. Even though there’s a lot of shadow out there, knowing in our bones, that the Light is alive and vibrant makes the shadow more bearable.

We take these 12 short days of Christmas to celebrate the Truth that God became human in Jesus and sent him to dwell among us. And that message, that Jesus dwells among us, is a message worth sharing.

The light shines in the darkness

and the darkness cannot over come it.

Now go, and tell your story.