The Mission Is Fishin’

Epiphany 3A: Matthew 4 

In today’s Gospel lesson, Jesus is still wet from his baptism in the River Jordan. But in the short time since that momentous event, John the Baptist has been arrested and Jesus has taken up his cause and his message, announcing the arrival of the Kingdom of Heaven. But instead of staying in Judah, where John had been, Jesus heads north to “Galilee of Gentiles,” a region of mixed Jewish and Gentile residents, where he settles in the town of Capernaum, beside the Sea of Galilee. Jesus’ trip to Capernaum isn’t just a short-term mission trip but is rather to establish the town as his home base, the center of his future ministry.  

We often imagine Jesus and his followers traipsing all over Israel, always on the move, never returning home, never settling down, “having no place to lay his head,” as Jesus says later on. As romantic as that might be, it is likely hyperbole, as Matthew and the other Gospel writers refer to Capernaum as Jesus’ “own town.” (Matt 9:1, Mark 2:1) In which case, the stories that the Gospel writers report about events in other nearby towns likely refer to day trips, perhaps an overnight excursion, after which Jesus and his entourage would head back to Capernaum to regroup. Matthew in fact suggests this a few chapters later, when they all return to Peter’s house where he heals his mother-in-law.  

The reason I point this out is that we often have this idea in our mind that because Jesus was always going around, never sitting still, never settling down, that to follow him, to be an ideal Christian, we have to do the same. I mean, we look at Paul and Barnabas, Peter and the other eleven Apostles, St Patrick and St Columba, Albert Schweitzer and David Livingston, and all the other famous missionaries whose legends we know, who left behind their families and careers and homelands and ventured to foreign, often hostile lands for the sake of the Gospel, and we think these are the “real” Christians, the Christian “professionals.”  

I remember when I was a child, my father sought to impress on me a theological lesson. He didn’t often do this, so the instance sticks out in my memory. It was about the difference between “disciples” and “apostles.” A “disciple” referred to any Christian, any follower of Christ, he explained, while “apostle” is a title given to those Christians who were specifically sent to faraway lands, that is, missionaries. I don’t recall what prompted this lesson, but he was correct, technically speaking.  

I say, technically because I can say, having studied theology, the distinction is overblown, an exaggeration, and it ignores an important commonality shared among all Christians. To be a disciple, a follower of Jesus, is to be an apostle, a missionary. The only difference, we might say, is that some apostles are sent to foreign lands, to make their “home base” somewhere else, while the rest of us apostles are called to mission right where we are, in our neighborhoods, communities and cities, to have our “home base” where we live and work.   

This is in fact what you see in Scripture. We are familiar with the impressive call stories like the one we see in today’s lesson—the call of Peter and Andrew, James and John—and others like it, where Jesus points to someone and says, “Drop everything and follow me.” But there are other instances where Jesus doesn’t tell people to leave with him but rather to go home and witness there. Think of the Ten Lepers that Jesus heals and tells to go show themselves to their priest, the Gerasene demoniac that Jesus sends back to his town as a witness to God’s mercy, the man born blind who goes home and tells his neighbors, Zacchaeus the Tax Collector whose house Jesus eats in, the woman at the well who returns to her village and calls everyone there to go meet the man “who told me everything I’ve ever done.” None of these people become part of Jesus’ entourage, but instead they stay right where they are and tell the people there about Jesus. And let’s not overlook all the believers in the house churches Paul plants or visits—sure, some of them traveled for business or mission work, but most we assume stayed put and spread the Good News where they were, among the people they already knew.  

The point is, we like to sentimentalize those who dropped everything and followed Jesus, like Peter and crew in today’s Gospel, but they aren’t the only model of mission. In fact, when we believe that “mission” is what “missionaries” do in some other place, not only do we make idols of foreign missionaries, but we neglect our own part in God’s mission where we are. You see, some Christians are “apostles,” but all Christians are supposed to be “apostolic.” We may not all be missionaries, but Christians are all called to be missional. 

This is, I understand, a challenge to how a lot of us think of church. Many—most—mainline churches like ours work under the assumption that church is for those who are already Christian, that conversion to Jesus has already occurred in people’s lives somewhere else. And most of us clergy frankly don’t think to question that, because we’ve been trained to be nurturers of the faith, rather than catalysts in a process of spiritual transformation in people’s lives. We may be called to be fishers of men, but too often we are satisfied with being keepers of the aquarium. Neither our churches nor our clergy are prepared or equipped to reach out to non-Christians and engage them in a journey that leads to Jesus.  

The funny thing is, many congregations worry over having a “mission.” They wring their hands, trying this or that ministry, jumping on the next church gimmick, following the latest trend, forgetting what it is that draws people to congregations in the first place, namely hunger for an authentic encounter with God. We often think that, if we can just find some way to get people into the building, put on some attractive show or host some community event, they’ll see what nice people we are and will decide to stick around. Missing is any effort, any thought, let alone a strategy for reaching the unchurched in a way that really connects with them, that connects their longings to the Gospel, to Jesus.  

If churches ever wonder why they aren’t growing, it’s not complicated. They don’t need a formal plan or system. The number one reason people don’t come to church is because they weren’t invited. No one asked them. Really, it’s that simple. A recent poll from Lifeway Research found that 82% of respondents would come to a church if a friend invited them.  

So why don’t we do more inviting? It’s, as they say, a “no brainer.” So why don’t we? Most churches, it seems, have the attitude that “they know where we are.” If they are looking for a church, they’ll come to us. But it’s not the job of non-Christians to find a church; it’s the job of the church to find them, to find them and invite them to be a part of what God is doing through his Church. 

This is to say that church, the local church, is not intended to be like the DMV or the local Walmart, the place you go to get stuff when you need it. A religious service provider. The church is rather a “missionary outpost,” the “forward base” for the campaign of salvation God is waging. The impetus, the energy, the focus, is outward, not inward. Or if it’s inward, gathering people to worship, to grow, to be trained, it’s so that those people will go right back out, in order to expand the reach of God’s grace.  

One of the most revolutionary, mind-changing ideas I was confronted with in my early days of ministry was this: the message of Scripture is not that “God’s church has a mission.” Rather, it’s that “God’s mission has a church.” That idea turns our assumptions around 180 degrees. Mission comes first, precedes the church. The church is to serve the mission, not the other way around. Mission is what God is doing, and he invites us to join in. So, it’s not that churches have to “come up” with a mission to give ourselves purpose, to justify our existence. God has given us a mission and we have only to embrace it.  

Sure, being part of that mission, and inviting others to be part of it, can be scary, awkward. You never know how the other person will respond, whether they will be curious or dismissive, welcoming or hostile. When they reject our invitation, it can feel like we ourselves are being rejected. And no one likes to be rejected, let along be thought ill of, called names. And so my telling you about how important mission, inviting others, is, can come across like me telling you that you should go to the dentist or the garage repair shop—it’s something you know you should do, but not something you’re very excited about, as it may result in pain or bad news.  

And yet there is no surer sign of a vital faith and a vibrant church than you want to share it with others.  

A while ago, I met someone who proudly declared that he was going to a “true Bible church.” He then went on to tell me about the strict, moral lifestyle advocated by this church. I was impressed by his testimony of the biblical fidelity in his congregation. Then I innocently asked him, “How big is your church?” He responded, “We have about 50 people on an average Sunday….Been that way for a long time, years really.” Then he paused, before adding, “We are not growing because we are so faithful to the demands of Scripture. People around us are just not religious anymore. That’s why so few join us.”  

Sorry, but that doesn’t cut it. A church that doesn’t invite people or that stops inviting people is not a “true Bible church,” not Jesus’ church. From the first, Jesus promises that if we sign on with him, he will teach us, will teach us not correct doctrine or right behavior or the right opinions, but will teach us to “fish for people,” to catch them, to share in his work of drawing in all people to God.  

As a contrast to that “true Bible church,” I was in a rapidly growing congregation once. I marveled at that church’s vitality and outreach. They had just added a fourth Sunday service because the pews were overflowing. I wondered what they were doing that so many other churches in our denomination are not. Then at the end of the service, the pastor shouted, “And let’s remember our mission…” He paused a moment, and the congregation shouted back, “…is fishin’!” The mission…is fishin’. 

That was a congregation that knew who it was, whose members were united in mission, who knew they were a part of something larger, something powerful that God was doing, and they were excited to be along for the ride, to see what God was going to do next. But what about other churches, congregations that aren’t so missional, who don’t yet have so strong a culture of invitation? Is there any hope for growth? For rebirth? Well, yes. Jesus’ promise to teach us, to make us “fishers of people,” still holds. 

William Willimon, when he was bishop of Alabama, recalls how, when he asked one of his pastors in Alabama about his congregation’s goals for the coming year, he responded, “We have promised God and ourselves that we will have at least two African American families join our church in the coming year.” What? How are you going to do that? 

“That’s our lay leaders’ problem,” the pastor responded. “I urged them to start praying, asking God to show us how to do something we don’t know how to do on our own.” 

Willimon admits he thought it would all come to nought. But six months later that pastor called and announced, “Well, we didn’t meet our goal of two families; three families joined this past Sunday! We had two families who had been visiting, but they said they wouldn’t join without another family, so they talked some of their friends into joining with them! It’s a miracle!” 

“Wow! What strategy led to this result?” The bishop asked, amazed.  

“The key was George Smith. He runs the best garage in town. George, without my telling him to do it, just started asking his customers when he fixed their cars, ‘Hey, do you have a church home?’ Then he would ask if he could come by and pick them up on Sunday morning and bring them to our church. After that, God took over.” 

Every church begins as an effort to reach people with the Gospel. Most churches, though, after they’ve been around for a while, forget this. But that doesn’t mean we can’t rediscover who we are and what we are about, that we can’t discover the fun of fishing with Jesus again. As that pastor taught his congregation, their “mission is fishin’” That is our mission, too. Thanks be to God!