“It is time.” A colleague wrote these words to fellow clergy as we prepared to act in civil disobedience, or what some call “holy witness.” “It is time,” she said, and posted the link to an article. The news had just broken: ICE detained a five year old child and his father who were on their way home from school. And of course, there is so much more to grieve since then, including the brutal execution of another neighbor. Let us take a moment of silence to honor ICU nurse Alex Pretti, gunned down yesterday morning while serving our community as a legal observer.
Today, I’m hearing the story of Jesus calling his first followers differently than I ever have before. In the past I’ve struggled to understand the rapid response of the disciples. Immediately, they left their nets and boats. Immediately, they walked away from their families. Immediately, they changed the course of their lives. Was this necessary? Was it wise? Now I get it. The urgency of that moment. The clarity that it was time. I’m realizing that these fishers who answered Jesus’ call were ordinary people like us, people called to into action by the time in which they lived, a time of both crisis and opportunity. Jesus, and John before him, urged their followers to face reality, to peer into the abyss of evil unmasked before them and to stand firm in their commitment to renounce and resist its hate and harm. And at the very same time, they beckoned their followers to notice another, equally present reality, an unprecedented uprising of love and community, the dawning of a new day of mercy and justice.
“When Jesus heard that John had been arrested[…]” In Matthew, these words come out of the blue. Last we heard of John, he was at river in the wilderness, baptizing people. Admittedly, this was a politically charged activity. John’s baptism publicly initiated his followers into a community committed to resisting the norms empire. Jesus has just returned from forty days of fasting and testing in the desert. And now, this disconcerting pronouncement, “Jesus heard that John had been arrested.” These words, like the Signal messages constantly flashing across my phone screen, make the hairs on the back of my neck prickle.
Jesus, receiving this news, must have realized that he was in immediate danger. So he withdrew. It was a temporary, strategic decision. In the midst of repression and violence, with lives at risk including his own, he had an urgent message to share: the “good news” of hope, of healing, of solidarity and beloved community. To introduce Jesus’ mission, Matthew points back to another time of terror in the nation’s history. In the days of the prophet Isaiah, the regions of Naphtali and Zebulun were among those conquered and wiped out by the Assyrian armies. And yet, even in this “region and shadow of death,” the prophet declares, the people saw a great light. They felt the warmth and color of a new dawn approaching. The Gospel writer frames Jesus’ ministry by drawing on this history, this ancestral witness.
The fishermen Jesus called occupied a unique niche in the ancient economy. They were neither landless peasants nor ruling elite. As middle class business owners, they were likely bound to Rome by contract. So Jesus’ call, “follow me, and I will make you fishers of people,” was an appeal to switch allegiances. New Testament scholar Jillian Nelson explains: “Their actions in following Jesus were a disruption, even if small, to Rome’s economic interests. By choosing Jesus, the brothers … choose to “fish” their land and the people in it for God’s purposes rather than exploiting it for Rome’s gain. … Rome wanted the men to catch fish to advance their imperialist expansion. Jesus wants them to catch people for God’s rule, which as Jesus will demonstrate throughout the rest of the Gospel, is a rule of mercy and justice and plenty.” 1
At the end of today’s passage, the Gospel writer pairs Jesus’ proclamation of the good news of the kingdom with his “curing of every disease and sickness among the people”. So God’s rule is a healing space, a network of mutual aid, a spreadsheet mapping community care, a realm of collective wellness. God’s rule is medicine for body and soul. God’s rule is treatment for the systemic diseases of violence and greed. God’s rule provides the antidote for empire’s poisonous lies and propaganda.
“Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven has come near.” The disciples faced a choice. To whom would they be loyal in this urgent moment? To whom would they turn, Jesus or empire? Greed, violence and hate, or love and community? The regime of fear? Or the healing space of holy witness? Would they choose silence and compliance? Or would they join the conspiracy of truth and freedom, breathing together; praying, singing, and kneeling together blocking traffic and obstructing commerce together, demanding change and transformation together?
There’s been a buzz about the fact that Sarah and I, along with 100 other people of faith, chose to accept arrest as the consequence of our public witness to the urgency of this moment. I want you to know that I see the rest of you taking the same risks with the same courage and resolve. I see you keeping watch at your schools and over the homes of your vulnerable neighbors. I see you patrolling your streets. I see you meeting with store managers to share our demands; buying and returning salt to melt the ice of corporate indifference; I see you marching in freezing temperatures; donating money, food, and time; calling your elected officials; supporting and encouraging each other; and welcoming the neighborhood to build community in our church.
It is time. All that is holy is calling to us, thousands and thousands of us, in this urgent moment of crisis and opportunity. And we are moving together with one heart, toward the dawn, marching toward a great light. It’s so amazing. And we are so very tired, so deeply weary. We have to take turns running and resting in this relay marathon of truth and freedom, hope and justice. Until we are all safe and whole. Until corporations like Target, Delta and US Bank join our witness. Until agents of terror lay down their weapons. Until those who voted for this madness see the light. Until our witness to love breaks open every heart of every person in this nation. Amen.