Our scripture begins this morning with the announcement of a death sentence. John the Baptist has been arrested and put in jail. “When Jesus heard this, he withdrew to Galilee. He left Nazareth and made his home by Capernaum by the sea, in the territory of Zebulon and Naphtali.”

Jesus hears that John, his cousin, in some ways his partner in ministry, his prophetic brother in faith, has been arrested. Being arrested was simply the first step in a death sentence. And though has not yet died, it will not be long. We know it, because we know how the story goes, but Jesus would have known it, too. One does not call for repentance, condemn the corruption of a local king, insult the local religious leadership, stir up crowds of people, and survive long in the Roman Empire.

Jesus knows that John is going to die. And this is a huge turning point. Jesus withdraws to Galilee. Now our scripture from the gospel of Matthew today says Jesus moved so he could fulfill the prophecy, the scripture from Isaiah we also read this morning. Maybe. The writer of the gospel Matthew was very concerned to link the words of the Hebrew Scriptures with the life of Jesus.

But I believe there is a difference between moving somewhere and “withdrawing”. We withdraw to the place that feels like home. We withdraw to the place that is safe. We withdraw to the place that is home base. Jesus withdraws to Galilee. But by going to  Galilee he is also going closer to Herod, and closer to those who are angry with John’s ministry, and ultimately, closer on his steady walk to Jerusalem.

We can imagine Jesus is grieving. He may be confused. He has been baptized by John not too long ago. Jesus withdraws to Galilee and I imagine he did some pretty hard thinking. What am I going to do now? I am alone and I now see very clearly the cost of calling for change.

And in that change of location and some indeterminate time of wrestling, Jesus makes up his mind.

The text says, “From that time Jesus began to proclaim, repent, for the kingdom of heaven has come near.” Jesus takes up John’s call for repentance.  And then, “as he walked by the Sea of Galilee, Jesus saw two brothers, Simon who is called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea-for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “follow me and I will make you fish for people.” Immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went from there, he saw two other brother, James, son of Zebedee and his brother John, in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets and he called to them. Immediately they left the boat and their father and followed him.”

Jesus moves to Galilee in the midst of grief and looking for discernment. And he emerges with a message of repentance and calls others to join him. This makes sense. Jesus realizes that the road ahead will be hard. If he feels called to change people’s hearts, he needs help. John the Baptist, his cousin, is as good as dead. He is alone. It is time to change that. So he calls the two brothers, and then two other brothers. And he begins his ministry. A ministry to fish for people.

And so here we are, the fishers of people, gathered together this morning.

Does that make you uncomfortable? Are you a little unsure when Jesus calls saying, follow me and I will make you fish for people? Does it bring up old ideas of missionaries going off to fish for people in foreign lands, blithely destroying cultures and civilizations as they go?

I was a missionary before I came to serve here. A missionary in South Africa through the UCC. And yet, when people ask me what I was doing before I came to Edgewood, I hesitate to say I was a missionary. For I can almost see the ideas of what that means rise up within them.

Fishing for people can mean missionary practices we do not agree with. Watching missionaries in Indonesia who give new sets of clothes and food only to children who agree to be Christians amidst parents struggling to get their lives back together gives me a queasy feeling. Fishing for people can mean using a simplistic theology as bait to lure people in. Such great fishing words: bait, lure. But seriously, if I tell you, “well, if you become a Christian, God will provide for you and you will have no financial problems,” that’s a half truth in my book. God will provide, does provide for us, but we the people have decided how to divvy up this wonderful creation and provision in less than equitable ways. God’s presence will be with us always, but is it a sign that God has abandoned us if food is not on our table?

What can it mean to fish for people? What can it mean beyond these stereotypes and our own misgivings?

John the Baptist fished for people. And it cost him his life. He died while trying to bring repentance, change to the people, religious and non-religious alike. Fishing for people is risky.

For Jesus, fishing for people meant he needed companions. He could not do it alone. He needed support, for himself, and looking at what happened to John, he needed others to spread the word after he was gone. For whether or not you believe that Jesus knew he was preordained to die, or that he was just a man on a mission, anyone living in his time would know that the countercultural message he shared, and the crowds he drew, would get him in trouble sooner or later. It was inevitable. So, to fish for people, Jesus called others saying follow me. And once he starts to gather these folks, off they go: “Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching in their synagogues, and proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and curing every disease and every sickness among the people.”

For the disciples, fishing for people meant a whole new way of being. They left their nets immediately. They left their boats immediately. They left their father and went with Jesus. And their lives were never the same.

What does fishing for people mean for us?

Several years back I heard a news story about how California was trying to reform its prison system which was notorious for corruption, violence and a fierce focus on punishment instead of rehabilitation. The newly appointed prison system director said that up until recently there was a sense that those who were in the prison system were not able to be reformed, there were no possibilities. They were lost. And should be locked up. Forever, if possible.

Now, due to some studies on the effectiveness of prison rehab programs, and a change in the heart of some Californians, change was coming. The prison system has decided to begin to fish for people. Now the prison director didn’t say that exactly, but really, that was what this change was about. Fishing for people meant changing from locking folks up and throwing away the key to teaching people, healing them, showing them the possibilities to grow and change.

I listened as the reporter sat in on one facilitated anger management session. He told the inmates, put one hand on your heart and one hand on your stomach. Now repeat after me. I am loved. I am safe. I am secure.

“That is rehab?” I thought to myself. And then thought, well, if I was a young man growing up in a dangerous, crime ridden neighborhood without anyone to care for me, it would take just these basic steps to bring a foundation in the midst of that chaos. And if I felt that I was ok, as I am, and that I was safe and did not have to defend myself, then the urge to do violence to others may well be reduced.

Fishing for people. Fishing for the souls of people buried beneath lives that are so complicated, painful, damaged. Fishing for people.

This takes time. This takes money. This takes, at least in California, a platoon of devoted volunteers. It is not easy. Not everyone succeeds.

But, as Jesus asks, are we ready to fish for people?

As a congregation we sit in the midst of this question. We are considering a ministry with ex sex offenders. It is a challenging and difficult question. Are we willing to fish for people? To fish for people in this population?

Fishing for people is about souls, about selves, about the spiritual wholeness of folks. Can we fish for people?

That is part of the message this morning. That we are to be fishing for people. Not locking them away forever with no hope. Not giving up. Letting the humanity in all people be nurtured and nourished. And it is costly. Look what it cost John and Jesus. What might it cost us, if not in our lives, but in money, time, energy, patience, forgiveness. That is part of the message.

But here is the other part.  When Jesus asks us, are we ready to fish for people, we need to hear this statement for each one of us, in our lives as they are right now. Even as most of us are not actually fishermen at all.

Chris Lockely writes, “The metaphor of becoming "fishers of people" can be seen as an invitation to redirect our best efforts, energies and talents towards the work of God's kingdom - to an eternal rather than a mundane purpose.

Jesus called the fisherman saying I will make you fishers of people. But Lockely suggests that he used that metaphor for the fishermen for that was the reality of their lives, an image they could understand. “One could explore how Jesus might call construction workers (I will make you builders of the kingdom); doctors (I will make you healers of souls); farmers (I will make you sowers of the word); petrol/gas station attendants (I will make you refuellers of hope). Certainly the metaphor meant something for these fishermen, but Jesus didn't seem to use it when calling tax collectors or prostitutes or teachers of the law - only fishermen. [The underlying message is] all of our energies and talents, no matter how impressive or mundane, can be redirected so that all we have and are can be given in service to God's realm of justice, peace and love.” (missional reflections on the lectionary)

That means that the work we do, at our job, at home, as we volunteer, in our retirement, all that we do can be the work of God through our hands. Fishing for people.

So, given our diverse gathering here, let us reframe Jesus’ call to us.

Follow me you university professors, and I will make you teachers of love and inclusion.

Follow me you nurses and I will make you bedside bearers of hope.

Follow me you homemakers and I will make welcomers of the lost

Follow me you secretaries and I will make you transcribers of the truth.

Follow me you engineers and I will make you engineers of social justice

Follow me you child care workers and I will make you shapers of the future.

Follow me you accountants and I will make you balancers of lives.

Follow me you quiltmakers and I will make you ones who knit communities back together.

Follow me and together we will bring the kingdom of God to people, all people.

Jesus calls. Are you coming?

Amen.

A closing blessing/benediction from John Wesley:

Lord, I am no longer my own, but Yours.

Put me to what You will, rank me with whom You will.

Let be employed by You or laid aside for You, exalted for You or brought low by You. Let me have all things, let me have nothing, I freely and heartily yield all things to Your pleasure and disposal.

And now, O glorious and blessed God, [Creator], Son, and Holy Spirit, You are mine and I am Yours.

So be it. Amen