A Sermon by Pastor Tom Lacey . . .

Christ Is … leader

Matthew 4:18-22, Preached by Tom Lacey at Congregational Church of Boca Raton, September 24, 2006

One day a man goes to a pet shop to buy a parrot. The assistant takes the man to the parrot section and asks the man to choose one. The man asks, ''How much is the yellow one?'' The assistant says, ''$2,000.'' The man is shocked and asks the assistant why it's so expensive. The assistant explains, ''This parrot is a very special one. He knows typewriting and can type really fast.'' ''What about the green one?'' the man asks. The assistant says, ''He costs $5,000 because he knows typewriting and can answer incoming telephone calls and takes notes.'' ''What about the red one?'' the man asks. The assistant says, ''That one's $10,000.'' The man says, ''What does HE do?'' The assistant says, ''I don't know, but the other two call him boss.''

It’s great to be the boss. Everybody wants to be the one in charge, tell others what to do, and sit back. Perhaps you will be so lucky as to fail, get kicked out of your job, and, if you’re a CEO of a major corporation, walk away with a $26 million dollar severance package. It’s not so great to be the little guy, invest all your money in a retirement package and watch it disappear because of the higher ups lie and steal their way into your funds. Still, there are good bosses, those with a heart, those who think with their soul and not only their wallet. It’s easier to work for them. When they give a job to do, it doesn’t feel like work as much as it feels right. It’s not bad to be something other than the boss. The world needs good followers. God needs great followers, people who will do what needs to get done. They are the heart and soul of the kingdom and any church.

What we want to see this morning is that we are to do the work given us. We follow the leader. We simply do the work. We are all blue collar workers, or no collar at all in God’s economy. We are the Marines, the ground troops, the grunts on Christ’s battlefield. As Scripture says, “Serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul.” Deut. 10:12 We ought to win one for the gipper. You probably won’t get plumes and diplomas; you won’t receive recognition or rewards. We simply get the job done. We are not the boss. Christ is. Now doing his job may feel good to you. You may even make friends wherever the task takes you. But first and foremost you do it because you are asked to do it. You take on the mission and rise to the occasion. Clearly, there is honor in filling the gap, in holding up your end, and in doing your duty. But the value isn’t in you or me. The value lies in the gipper winning, and when God wins, that is why we win. God is first, my family and friends are second, and I am third. Even Jesus knew this when he said: “Not my will, but thy will be done.”

There is a story of a young Naval Academy graduate, who after completing his first overseas cruise, was given an opportunity to display his talents at getting his ship underway and out of port. The young officer's efficiency established a new record for getting a naval ship underway. Then a sailor approached him with a message from the captain. It read: “My personal congratulations upon completing your underway preparations exercise according to the book and with amazing speed. In your haste however, you have overlooked one of the fundamental rules—make sure the captain is on board before you leave.” Don’t leave home without him. Set God before you in the place of honor. Let the Lord lead you to where he has plans for you. 

We might have a difficult time with the miracle healing stories, but there is something almost as difficult to accept in Jesus’ call of Peter and Andrew, James and John. These men must have been mentally unhinged to follow someone after meeting him for just the first time. Now I am not overly naïve about scripture. My guess, and it is only a guess, is that Jesus actually spoke more to them than the one sentence: “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” He at least said, “Good morning, or Howdy.” But what we have in our bible is the closer, the call itself. And all four of them left their nets. Perhaps they weren’t mentally unstable. Perhaps they were simply tired of their nets. Perhaps they wanted to work for something more significant than just feeding their bodies. Perhaps they realized that the nets they used to trap fish had turned on them and now trapped them. Perhaps they saw something more in this man’s face and words, and they wanted to make something more of their life and works. Perhaps, they wanted to rise to the occasion, to follow the true leader, to answer the call of God to follow him, come what may. The call is the same this morning as it was 2,000 years ago.

Clarence Jordan was the founder of the Koinonia Farm near Americus, Georgia. It was set up to be an interracial community before people knew what civil rights were all about. Jordan himself was a pacifist as well as an integrationist and thus was not a popular figure in Georgia, even though he came from a prominent family. The Koinonia Farm, by its very nature, was controversial and, of course, it was in trouble. In the early ’50s, Clarence approached his brother Robert Jordan (later a state senator and justice of the Georgia Supreme Court) to ask him to represent legally the Koinonia Farm. They were having trouble getting LP gas delivered for heating during the winter even though it was against the law not to deliver gas. Clarence thought Robert could do much through a phone call. However, Robert responded to Clarence’s request: “Clarence, I can’t do that. You know my political aspirations. Why, if I represented you, I might lose my job, my house, everything I’ve got.” “We might lose everything, too, Bob.” “It’s different for you.” “Why is it different? I remember, it seems to me, that you and I joined the church on the same Sunday, as boys. I expect when we came forward the preacher asked me the same question he did you. He asked me, ‘Do you accept Jesus as your Lord and Savior?’ And I said, ‘Yes.’ What did you say?” “I follow Jesus, Clarence, up to a point.” “Could that point by any chance be — the cross?” “That’s right. I follow him to the cross, but not on the cross. I’m not getting myself crucified.” “Then I don’t believe you’re a disciple. You’re an admirer of Jesus, but not a disciple of his. I think you ought to go back to the church you belong to, and tell them you’re an admirer, not a disciple.” “Well now, if everyone who felt like I do did that, we wouldn’t have a church, would we?” “The question,” Clarence said, “is, ‘Do you have a church?’”  Stanley Hauerwas

Fact is, there is an inescapable truth: The one we worship can and will make a claim on all of our lives. It is impossible to worship the God of Jesus Christ and not have that God expect more of us than we are often ready to give. The call of Christ is always unsettling. Hearing it is always disturbing. It disrupts our lives and pulls us in new directions. We don’t like it when someone asks us to do something we weren’t planning on. And because we don’t like it, we don’t do it, which reminds me of the story of a young boy who goes up to the baseball plate, looks over to the coach, and sees him give the signal for the sacrifice bunt. He then promptly proceeds to take three big swings and strikes out. The coach runs up to him and says: “Didn’t you see me give you the signal to sacrifice.” “Yes,” the boy replies. “But I didn’t think you meant it.” A church is only as real as the people who really answer Christ’s call to follow him. We need to do the works of him who calls and commands. Do your duty. Complete the task. Sacrifice for God and for good.

Every time Jesus says, "Follow me," it affects us. We don't mind Jesus trying to help the prostitute build some self-esteem, but that doesn't mean we want to be sitting next to her in church. We aren't bothered by Jesus spending time with the mentally ill, but that doesn't translate into our own willingness to be more tolerant of that horrible disease. We are glad to see Jesus healing the sick, those who are on death's door, but that doesn't mean we want a house in our neighborhood converted into a shelter for AIDS patients. We sort of like the idea of Jesus letting children sit in his lap, but that is a long way from appreciating the gifts and presence of children and overlooking the messes created in their celebrations.

So how does God make disciples, followers, of the likes of us? The only power that enables people to loosen their white-knuckled grip on the control lever of their lives is the liberating power of trust. When we trust Jesus, we find the freedom to surrender ourselves to him, believing that he will not exploit but rather utilize us for God and good. In faith, we trust that Christ is leading us to a place worth going. So do the works he sets before you. Get out of the net that ensnares you. Rise to the challenge of becoming a fisher of people. Be a follower of the Boss.

There’s a story about a minister who received a phone call very late one evening. The voice on the other end of the line said, “May I speak to Martha, please?” “There is no one here by that name,” the minister replied. Click! The phone went dead. A few seconds later the phone rang again. “May I speak to Martha, please?” Again the minister replied, “There is no one here by that name.” Click! The phone went dead a second time. Only a few seconds later, the phone rang a third time. “May I speak to Martha, please?” The minister replied, using all the restraint he could muster, “There is no one here by that name. Maybe you are dialing the wrong number.” “Now you listen,” the voice insisted. “I’m not dialing the wrong number. You’re answering the wrong phone!”

Answer the correct call: Christ’s call to “follow me!” Amen.

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