For January 26, 2014 – Matthew 4:12-23

The beginning of Jesus’ public ministry soon has a new beginning. In the first beginning he went to his cousin John, who was preaching repentance, and lined up with the masses to be baptized. According to Luke, he begins to preach and teach regularly in and around his hometown synagogue, until the day he reads Isaiah’s provocative words about good news to the poor and captives being released. This is too much to take from a local boy, a carpenter’s son, and a mob runs him out of town. Now the first beginning has completely unraveled—John has been arrested. The whole mission is in meltdown. What is happening? Can it all be ending so soon? Wasn’t John going to be a key player? Is Jesus totally on his own now? Surely God intended more, but what is it? With whom? How? Where?

There is little to do but move on. Sometimes moving on is not so much chosen as accepted. We thought we knew how things would go, but then we are cast out into new lands. For Jesus it’s Capernaum, right by the sea, where he can listen to the ancient rhythms of water, where he can pray and ponder what to do now. Haven’t we all at some point headed for water when we didn’t know where else to go? Whether ocean or lake or creek, the simple sounds of water meeting earth and rocks can remind us of our small place in God’s big plan. We can release our disappointment and hone in on the heart of the vision; we can call forth new partners; we can begin again.

Walking by the water, Jesus notices some fishermen, prepping for a big catch. He sees how motivated they are, how diligent to the tasks at hand. On the far side of failure, Jesus has nothing to lose. He can risk playing the fool as he calls out to them, “Follow me!” And they do! Leaving their boats and nets and even a wide-eyed father behind, just like that, they embark on an adventure of a lifetime, the ripples of which are still rocking history. All because one person didn’t need everything to go his way. All because one person took the risk of trying again. We can, too. We can be on this kind of journey, moving on when it’s time to move on, calling forth and being called forth. We can make a way where there seems to be no way.