Matthew 4:18-23; January 25, 2026; Third Sunday after Epiphany
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Let’s start immediately with the good news; as on this snowy, stormy weekend, it wouldn’t hurt to be warmed by the Gospel.
And to that I say, Amen. Because we need some of that, don’t we? We need to be cured of every disease and every sickness causing illness among the people. Among us and our people, our community, our nation, and world.
Notice, however, that we didn’t get a description on how Jesus did that, except that he simply taught and proclaimed. He taught and proclaimed.
For you see, education can repair. Education can heal. Education can cure.
To be informed is a form of medicine, as it can inspire critical thinking, rational thinking, empathetic thinking. All types of thinking that could help us eradicate these current sicknesses and diseases, these untruths, misconceptions, and fabrications that everyday assault and plague us.
I mean, imagine a world where everyone had a better education, was more informed of the issues and how political and societal systems worked; where we could better understand nuance, and context, and perspective, and where everything wasn’t always so black and white, and binary, and tribalistic. Imagine that, and how better off we’d be?
One of my great laments of late is that it seems we no longer emphasize, or cheer on, the philosophical pursuit of knowledge, where we can hold competing ideas in our head at the same time, find some sort of mutuality, while ultimately settling on the better argument, based on evidence, scrutiny, utility and applicability.
We need to recover that process of discovery, my friends, that method of inquiry, instead of all of these snap judgments, and ignorant solutions, where easy, ready-made answers are offered as wisdom to complex discussions and challenging questions.
After all, Jesus taught. He educated. He demanded more. And he cured.
Our scripture today also tells us that He not only taught but also proclaimed the good news.
Such that when we are finally educated on the right way, and can discern the better, truer, path, we, like Him, are then tasked with sharing it with others through example and witness, testimony and proclamation.
Something we’ve talked a lot about recently at church, on how we are all charged to use our own voices to heal, to bridge the divides among us, to mend the injustices around us and the many wrongs within us.
But since we’ve spoken so much about that lately, what I want to focus on a bit more on today are these first verses, where the first disciples are called by Jesus.
These first disciples, mind you, who were but simple fishermen, people who had no social or political influence at all. Jesus, after all, was a true man of the people!
And to these everyday people, to these first disciples, to us, Jesus says “follow me, and I will make you fishers of people.”
And amazingly, Simon, who was called Peter, and Andrew, his brother, do just that.
They didn’t procrastinate either, but immediately – immediately — they leave their nets and follow him. And not only them, but James, son of Zebedee, and his brother John too.
Honestly, I’m not sure I could have done that. After all, I just spent the last several minutes of this sermon talking about not making snap judgements but championing a slower way of thinking and discerning more critically.
But I guess when in the presence of the Son of God, the Truth of all Truths, and the Incarnate Good News, why dilly dally? Right? Amen?
But you know what’s always made me tilt my head in wonder about this passage? What ever happened to their father? Verse 22 says John and James were in a boat with their father Zebedee (whose name literally means Gift of God) when Jesus asked them to follow him. And immediately they just leave him and go after Christ.
Why wasn’t Zebedee called? Why didn’t Zebedee follow? Were the sons at all concerned about leaving their poor old pops in that boat all on his own? Did they help him get back to shore first before leaving him, or is he still out there somewhere, floating, paddling in eternity?
I hope not and that the Good Sheperd rescued him too. As He rescues all of us.
But, maybe the point is that not everyone will follow, and that even in our own families, there will be divisions, and some who do not come along, who will not chase after Truth, after Righteousness, after Him who has the words of Life. And Lord, do we ever know that!
But perhaps another point is: to follow after something or someone means we are inevitably going to have to leave something or some people behind. Our past. And previous way of life. Those anchors, perhaps, that hold us back from thinking and living in a new way, a better way.
And after all, that’s precisely what Jesus calls us to do. To leave behind what’s old for what’s new. For the gospel that makes all things new. And better.
Perhaps then Zebedee was more of an illustrative example, a metaphor, rather than an actual person stuck and left alone on a boat
But even if he was real, I have hope that through the example of his children, leaving and chasing after hope, his own life was changed by that hope.
Perhaps through curiosity, and an investigation into why his sons would leave to follow Jesus, I have to believe that his own life was altered too, at least, in some way.
Because, after all, isn’t it so that we are each changed by those who are in proximity to us, who are setting examples before us? Right or wrong, for good or for ill, we are always learning, either directly or indirectly, from those whose words and ways we council, from those whose actions and opinions we are near to and elect to follow. Either in person or on TikTok, YouTube, or Instagram.
The trick then, I think, is to not only surround ourselves with people, with leaders, with friends and podcasters, who are leading us rightly, who are teaching and informing us correctly and more healthily, but it is to become those leaders and teachers ourselves, lights and examples, apostles operating in close proximity to others
So that in witnessing to the One who calls us all to follow Him, every disease and sickness among us might be cured by His hope and goodness, His Truth (capital T) and ultimately His better way of life and living.
So let it be.
Amen
