"ISAIAH MEETS THE BEATLES"
5th Sunday of Epiphany Luke 5 : 1 - 11
If you are listening to the radio this weekend or watching the news or reading the paper, I am hoping that somewhere you have noticed what anniversary this is. 55 years ago, this week, the Beatles came to the US for two weeks. They appeared on the Ed Sullivan Show. And millions of American boys watched as millions of girls swooned to those classic hits: "She Loves You" and "I Want to Hold Your Hand."
Some of us can even remember where we were the night we watched the American television premier on Mr. Sullivan’s variety program. Many have a favorite Beatle or a favorite tune which, perhaps, still invokes a memory and/or stirs your soul – even today. "In My life", "Let it Be", "Hey Jude", "Revolution", “Here, There, and Everywhere,” shaped a generation and chronicled a time in our lives. Some social scientists even postulate that our feelings of well-being and confidence that were the 60’s did not really begin until the Beatles arrived!
Recalling "The year the Beatles came to America" is a little like remembering "the year King Uzziah died…" OR "the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated…" OR "the hour the airplanes crashed into the Twin Towers." In its own way, 1964, the year the Beatles were first on American soil and, through the wonder of television, first in American homes, was a big event because it changed forever the way we thought about culture, music, fortune, celebrity, war, peace, relationships, and much more.
So, if I were one of the first disciples to be called, I know I would never forget that moment, that day, that year. I think that would, certainly, be a moment from which I would be able to mark time… In other words, there’s a difference between all the years before Christ first called me, and all the years since. As Luke tells it, the call comes after Jesus achieved an almost “Beatles-like” fame and popularity in/around Galilee. The first disciples respond to a teacher who is very compelling, very demanding, and who is beckoning others into a new way of life and onto a significant transformation.
Unlike the stories that Mark and Matthew tell, within the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is not a novice Rabbi, but a self-actualized Preacher… who can spin a sermon out of thin air… calling others into a power and a witness that they have never imagined before and will never know again… Out there in the boat, sailing into deep water, Simon Peter catches a glimpse of Jesus’ transforming power and falls before him in a moment of profound recognition, lost in his own inadequacy and limitations.
The notion of calling is an important one in the Christian tradition. To call comes from the Latin, "vocare", or vocation. A calling, then, is the work we are supposed to accomplish in this world, the very thing we will spend our lives doing. A calling from God is something different than work, in that it is a sacred vocation, the point where our unique gifts meet the world’s need. This call is almost an echo, the world cries out to us and each of us is able to respond from a specific place that is deep within us.
In our 21st century world, our lives are filled with all sorts of calls and they come from all directions. Some of us struggle to hear our call; we don't see clearly what we’re supposed to be doing that is “worldly.” Others of us are so inundated by information, invitations, and constant activity that we wonder if we will ever be able to hear our call clearly enough so that we might, finally, understand the purpose of our lives.
That is why it is such a pleasure to hear the story of fishermen who are given such a clear and unmistakable call to change their lives completely and to see how they respond accordingly. We might even feel envious at the simplicity of their calling, because it is not nearly so easy for us… On the north Oregon Coast, within middle class of North America, we have a myriad of vocations to choose from and equally as many roles to play in our complex, involved, committed, and demanding lives.
To whom do we listen in order to discern our most sacred calling? What voices are we hearing – and what are those voices saying to us about who we are and how we should live? What do we hear either above or below all of life’s noise and clamor?
There is a story about a guy who isn’t a very good farmer, so he takes a call to be a preacher – and he is a terrible at it… When one of his flock asked him how he got the idea to be a preacher, he said, "I saw the clouds gather in the sky and the letters GPC emerged… out of the blue. I took this to mean, ‘Go, Preach Christ.’" And his neighbor replied, "I’m sorry, brother, I think it probably meant, ‘Go, Plant Corn.’"
So, where are we looking – how are we listening for God? What are the voices that are calling us? If those little coincidences in life that keep making themselves our business are in fact God’s Spirit, then which “coincidence” should we trust and who can we turn to when we, like Peter, feel profoundly confused and significantly unworthy?
For me, part of the answer to these questions comes from diving deep or looking deep inside myself. Peter was fishing in Galilee and, suddenly, he found himself dropping into deep waters. It’s not only about the work you have to do or the work you want to do to make a living. It's about going into the deep, meeting the divine there, and then, listening intently to what is being said when you are in that place.
Peter descended from one reality into a new one and it was a scary, exciting time. I believe that God moves through us in these times. And in that movement, anything can and does happen. The movement of God changes everything and we need only make ourselves available to listen and then pay attention to what we’re being told.
I’ve learned, that whenever God calls, it can be a challenging even dangerous time. Peter responded to his call with fear and a sense of his own limitations – a common response, I think. Whenever we are confronted by the power and beauty of God's love, we all would rather withdraw and pretend we’re just not worthy or to leap out of the boat altogether because we would rather swim alone than take a chance rowing, sailing or fishing with others.
It is in these difficult – even sometimes, frightening – moments when we arrive at the very core of our calling, that we might possibly hear – with greater clarity and assurance – our vocation, our ultimate purpose as children and as disciples of God.
Most of the time, we are consumed with the worries of the world. Think of your lists of things to do and accomplish on any given day or throughout the week. Run through your checkbook or the receipts in your wallet to see how much time and money you’ve spent simply to live. Try keeping an account of the phone calls you make or the emails you send and receive in a week. How we work, where we live, who we love, is certainly part of our vocation, but I believe our calling is revealed to us when “deep calls unto deep,” when the wind billows and the waves roll over us, when our hearts are restless, when we take time to be both mindful and aware.
Our calling may come when a parent dies, or someone you love receives a terminal diagnosis. It may come with the loss of a job or the loss of a spouse. It may come in a time of war or through a longing for peace. The call may come through hands that want to create or cook or plant or paint, or through a voice that needs to sing or to speak, or an inquisitive mind that has to learn or a compassionate heart that wants to give. Our deep vocation emerges through our willingness to listen for God in the midst of such living.
To Isaiah, that voice came within a dreamlike and mystical vision and said simply, "Go." To Peter, the voice came as a deliberate invitation, "Come." We are called, sometimes kicking and screaming, into new life. We are called, sometimes through our tears and grief into new life. We are called by “a still small voice,” or a through a shattering explosion… into the presence of the ever-Living, all-Loving Creator. One thing I know for sure, is that to be named as a child of God, as a disciple of Jesus, as a follower of God’s Spirit, is to be sent into a life rich with grace, sprinkled with both fear and excitement, often fraught with both the pain and purpose of everyday living.
We are called and sent out as God’s beloved to the places we most need to go and in the places where the world most needs to receive us. Peter came back from that unforgettable fishing trip changed forever. He became a relentless disciple of, and for, good in the world. Even with all of his memorable missteps, God called him out and put him on a sacred path to new life. And Simon Peter was never the same.
Where do we begin? One of Isaiah’s contemporaries reminds us that God is not so much impressed with the size of our sacrifices and the number of bushels of grain or barrels of oil we can contribute to the temple coffers. The prophet Micah urges all of Israel – and all of us – to simply do justice, love kindness and walk humbly before and beside God. Our deepest gifts will meet the world’s deepest needs in that sacred place.
John Lennon called to all of us who were young to Imagine a different – perhaps a higher calling… Imagine there are no countries, no possessions, no religions to kill or die for, no need for greed or hunger; imagine there is just a brotherhood of man. Imagine all the people living for today, living life in peace, sharing all the world, living together as one. You may think he was a solitary dreamer, but we were all assured that, despite the uncertainty, the seeming ambivalence, and advertised inevitability of war, in 1971, you and I (and John Lennon) were not the only ones dreaming that dream.
His beautiful melody and awe-inspiring lyrics have been regarded as the antithesis of “a call to arms.” The title song from his solo album, put forth a highly-charged, controversial, political message – in Lennon’s words, “with a little honey.” Clearly the “in your face” anti-violence message was not garnering the requisite attention. John attempted to change hearts and the apathy he observed while calling listeners to envision a world of peace and unity; a sentiment which is still necessary, today.
John Wesley, who founded the Methodist movement, devoted his life to seeking God. And he embraced goodness as a form of loving God. Now, we here are not Methodist, but I think there are many worship songs and words of encouragement that John and his brother, Charles, wrote that bear repeating and taking to heart:
The elder Wesley gave those who were listening the following formula or “method” for achieving goodness. And with these popular words, he also called disciples to new life: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, for just as long as you can.
Here I am. Lord, send me. Amen.
Some of us can even remember where we were the night we watched the American television premier on Mr. Sullivan’s variety program. Many have a favorite Beatle or a favorite tune which, perhaps, still invokes a memory and/or stirs your soul – even today. "In My life", "Let it Be", "Hey Jude", "Revolution", “Here, There, and Everywhere,” shaped a generation and chronicled a time in our lives. Some social scientists even postulate that our feelings of well-being and confidence that were the 60’s did not really begin until the Beatles arrived!
Recalling "The year the Beatles came to America" is a little like remembering "the year King Uzziah died…" OR "the day John F. Kennedy was assassinated…" OR "the hour the airplanes crashed into the Twin Towers." In its own way, 1964, the year the Beatles were first on American soil and, through the wonder of television, first in American homes, was a big event because it changed forever the way we thought about culture, music, fortune, celebrity, war, peace, relationships, and much more.
So, if I were one of the first disciples to be called, I know I would never forget that moment, that day, that year. I think that would, certainly, be a moment from which I would be able to mark time… In other words, there’s a difference between all the years before Christ first called me, and all the years since. As Luke tells it, the call comes after Jesus achieved an almost “Beatles-like” fame and popularity in/around Galilee. The first disciples respond to a teacher who is very compelling, very demanding, and who is beckoning others into a new way of life and onto a significant transformation.
Unlike the stories that Mark and Matthew tell, within the Gospel of Luke, Jesus is not a novice Rabbi, but a self-actualized Preacher… who can spin a sermon out of thin air… calling others into a power and a witness that they have never imagined before and will never know again… Out there in the boat, sailing into deep water, Simon Peter catches a glimpse of Jesus’ transforming power and falls before him in a moment of profound recognition, lost in his own inadequacy and limitations.
The notion of calling is an important one in the Christian tradition. To call comes from the Latin, "vocare", or vocation. A calling, then, is the work we are supposed to accomplish in this world, the very thing we will spend our lives doing. A calling from God is something different than work, in that it is a sacred vocation, the point where our unique gifts meet the world’s need. This call is almost an echo, the world cries out to us and each of us is able to respond from a specific place that is deep within us.
In our 21st century world, our lives are filled with all sorts of calls and they come from all directions. Some of us struggle to hear our call; we don't see clearly what we’re supposed to be doing that is “worldly.” Others of us are so inundated by information, invitations, and constant activity that we wonder if we will ever be able to hear our call clearly enough so that we might, finally, understand the purpose of our lives.
That is why it is such a pleasure to hear the story of fishermen who are given such a clear and unmistakable call to change their lives completely and to see how they respond accordingly. We might even feel envious at the simplicity of their calling, because it is not nearly so easy for us… On the north Oregon Coast, within middle class of North America, we have a myriad of vocations to choose from and equally as many roles to play in our complex, involved, committed, and demanding lives.
To whom do we listen in order to discern our most sacred calling? What voices are we hearing – and what are those voices saying to us about who we are and how we should live? What do we hear either above or below all of life’s noise and clamor?
There is a story about a guy who isn’t a very good farmer, so he takes a call to be a preacher – and he is a terrible at it… When one of his flock asked him how he got the idea to be a preacher, he said, "I saw the clouds gather in the sky and the letters GPC emerged… out of the blue. I took this to mean, ‘Go, Preach Christ.’" And his neighbor replied, "I’m sorry, brother, I think it probably meant, ‘Go, Plant Corn.’"
So, where are we looking – how are we listening for God? What are the voices that are calling us? If those little coincidences in life that keep making themselves our business are in fact God’s Spirit, then which “coincidence” should we trust and who can we turn to when we, like Peter, feel profoundly confused and significantly unworthy?
For me, part of the answer to these questions comes from diving deep or looking deep inside myself. Peter was fishing in Galilee and, suddenly, he found himself dropping into deep waters. It’s not only about the work you have to do or the work you want to do to make a living. It's about going into the deep, meeting the divine there, and then, listening intently to what is being said when you are in that place.
Peter descended from one reality into a new one and it was a scary, exciting time. I believe that God moves through us in these times. And in that movement, anything can and does happen. The movement of God changes everything and we need only make ourselves available to listen and then pay attention to what we’re being told.
I’ve learned, that whenever God calls, it can be a challenging even dangerous time. Peter responded to his call with fear and a sense of his own limitations – a common response, I think. Whenever we are confronted by the power and beauty of God's love, we all would rather withdraw and pretend we’re just not worthy or to leap out of the boat altogether because we would rather swim alone than take a chance rowing, sailing or fishing with others.
It is in these difficult – even sometimes, frightening – moments when we arrive at the very core of our calling, that we might possibly hear – with greater clarity and assurance – our vocation, our ultimate purpose as children and as disciples of God.
Most of the time, we are consumed with the worries of the world. Think of your lists of things to do and accomplish on any given day or throughout the week. Run through your checkbook or the receipts in your wallet to see how much time and money you’ve spent simply to live. Try keeping an account of the phone calls you make or the emails you send and receive in a week. How we work, where we live, who we love, is certainly part of our vocation, but I believe our calling is revealed to us when “deep calls unto deep,” when the wind billows and the waves roll over us, when our hearts are restless, when we take time to be both mindful and aware.
Our calling may come when a parent dies, or someone you love receives a terminal diagnosis. It may come with the loss of a job or the loss of a spouse. It may come in a time of war or through a longing for peace. The call may come through hands that want to create or cook or plant or paint, or through a voice that needs to sing or to speak, or an inquisitive mind that has to learn or a compassionate heart that wants to give. Our deep vocation emerges through our willingness to listen for God in the midst of such living.
To Isaiah, that voice came within a dreamlike and mystical vision and said simply, "Go." To Peter, the voice came as a deliberate invitation, "Come." We are called, sometimes kicking and screaming, into new life. We are called, sometimes through our tears and grief into new life. We are called by “a still small voice,” or a through a shattering explosion… into the presence of the ever-Living, all-Loving Creator. One thing I know for sure, is that to be named as a child of God, as a disciple of Jesus, as a follower of God’s Spirit, is to be sent into a life rich with grace, sprinkled with both fear and excitement, often fraught with both the pain and purpose of everyday living.
We are called and sent out as God’s beloved to the places we most need to go and in the places where the world most needs to receive us. Peter came back from that unforgettable fishing trip changed forever. He became a relentless disciple of, and for, good in the world. Even with all of his memorable missteps, God called him out and put him on a sacred path to new life. And Simon Peter was never the same.
Where do we begin? One of Isaiah’s contemporaries reminds us that God is not so much impressed with the size of our sacrifices and the number of bushels of grain or barrels of oil we can contribute to the temple coffers. The prophet Micah urges all of Israel – and all of us – to simply do justice, love kindness and walk humbly before and beside God. Our deepest gifts will meet the world’s deepest needs in that sacred place.
John Lennon called to all of us who were young to Imagine a different – perhaps a higher calling… Imagine there are no countries, no possessions, no religions to kill or die for, no need for greed or hunger; imagine there is just a brotherhood of man. Imagine all the people living for today, living life in peace, sharing all the world, living together as one. You may think he was a solitary dreamer, but we were all assured that, despite the uncertainty, the seeming ambivalence, and advertised inevitability of war, in 1971, you and I (and John Lennon) were not the only ones dreaming that dream.
His beautiful melody and awe-inspiring lyrics have been regarded as the antithesis of “a call to arms.” The title song from his solo album, put forth a highly-charged, controversial, political message – in Lennon’s words, “with a little honey.” Clearly the “in your face” anti-violence message was not garnering the requisite attention. John attempted to change hearts and the apathy he observed while calling listeners to envision a world of peace and unity; a sentiment which is still necessary, today.
John Wesley, who founded the Methodist movement, devoted his life to seeking God. And he embraced goodness as a form of loving God. Now, we here are not Methodist, but I think there are many worship songs and words of encouragement that John and his brother, Charles, wrote that bear repeating and taking to heart:
The elder Wesley gave those who were listening the following formula or “method” for achieving goodness. And with these popular words, he also called disciples to new life: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, for just as long as you can.
Here I am. Lord, send me. Amen.