Matthew 3:13-17
Then Jesus came from Galilee to John at the Jordan, to be baptized by him. John would have prevented him, saying, “I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?” But Jesus answered him, “Let it be so now, for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Then he consented. And when Jesus had been baptized, just as he came up from the water, suddenly the heavens were opened to him and he saw God’s Spirit descending like a dove and alighting on him. And a voice from the heavens said, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased.”

Questions about my name have followed me my whole life. “Cogan? Wow, that's a unique name! Where does it come from? Or, what does it mean? Is that a family name? Or my personal favorite, “How'd your parents come up with that?” I’ve become quite fond of this interaction and some of us have already had it! As for the questions, I have no idea the name's origin or nationality, or what it means. It’s not a family name. And if or when you meet my parents you should ask them how they came up with it or why they plagued me with this practical joke for my whole life.

Shakespeare, by way of Juliet, quipped, “What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet”. Meaning a name is nothing more than what we infer upon it, the emphasis we give it. And while there is certainly truth to that, in our culture we give enormous emphasis to names and even more so titles. Titles impress, they grant authority, respect, sometimes even honor. We work hard to get these titles!

Maybe their letters before or after our names, or a phrase: Dr, Engineer, Mother, Teacher, Director. Often we hide behind these titles or names that we’ve been given or claimed. We place our identity in them, thinking we will find affirmation out in the world through them.

I’ve thought a fair amount about this considering I soon will gain two new titles, pastor and father; both for which I’ve yearned. But even knowing all that you do about me, my name, my soon to be titles, you don’t really know me. You don’t know what kind of pastor or father I will be.

And if you judged me just by name you’d think “Idk… he must be kinda weird”. We assume much, but really we can’t know a lot about a person from names and titles alone. I think the same is true for Jesus and why the story of his baptism is so revealing.

Thus far in Matthew, Jesus is given a few names and titles: Jesus, meaning Yahweh is salvation, the Messiah, meaning the anointed, Emmanuel, King of the Jews. Talk about some impressive names and titles, can you imagine the pressure?! Yet, up until now, Jesus hasn’t done anything. Everything has happened to him: he was birthed, named, visited, taken to Egypt, and brought to Nazareth.

Jesus may have names and titles, and we can (and do) assume much about him because of those, just as the people of Matthew’s community did. But Jesus has yet to act or do anything himself. What kind of Messiah will he be? How will Yahweh’s salvation come from him? In what ways will he be God with us? And how do we, as readers or hearers of this story, know that these names and titles are right and true? I certainly don’t believe all of the things that happen in my dreams… do you?!

It’s as if the author of Matthew knew these questions would arise at this point in the story. And right on time, Jesus came to John at the Jordan. It’s really an odd event if we think about it: why would Jesus, the anointed, need baptism? And if John’s baptism is one for repentance of sins, why would the sinless Jesus need it? These questions are interesting and important and the early church wrestled with them fiercely. However, by focusing solely on such questions we risk missing what this baptism tells us about Jesus.

John, by his question, takes the position as the less important person when Jesus arrived. But Jesus flips the script, adamant that he was to be baptized by John. “for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” The “for us” links John and Jesus together as partners in carrying out God’s saving plan. Jesus chose to work with John, this mere mortal to bring about God’s will.

And then this most miraculous scene unfolds as Jesus came out of the water, he saw the sky open to heavens, the Holy Spirit falling in dove form upon him, and then God spoke not only to Jesus, but to John and the others gathered, “This is my Son, the Beloved, with whom I am well pleased”. Now we can begin to hear and see more clearly who this Jesus is and the ways in which he works.

God did not speak of names and titles, but of Jesus' identity: child of God, beloved. And perhaps even better, God affirms, nay celebrates his identity saying, “with whom I am well pleased”. Jesus did nothing to earn this: he had done no miracle, no feeding of thousands, no teaching the crowds, no healing the sick. The only thing he did was get baptized, revealing to us the way Jesus works. Not with power or force, but in humble obedience Jesus joined with John so that he would bear the sin of all those baptized.

Think of all the names and titles you bear: some you love and some you don’t. Some you were given and some you claimed. Some you earned and for some you yearn. And yet, these names, these titles… they do not define you whether you want them to or you don’t. They don’t give affirmation as to who you are. Only baptism does that... because in baptism God claims you as God’s own and gives you not a name or a title, but your identity.

Above all you are a beloved child of God… and because of Christ, God looks upon you and says, “with you I am well pleased”. You did nothing to earn that. In fact, there’s nothing you could do. God freely gives it to you and we call that grace. And is there anything more that we could want? than to know who we are and whose we are… to be celebrated by the One who created us… to be loved and redeemed by the humble and obedient Servant who, as the prophet says, brings light to the nations, who opens the eyes of those blind to suffering and oppression, and who will establish justice in the earth.

Not only does God give us our identity but also our mission. Just as Jesus chose to work with John so also In baptism God chooses to work through us; the lowly, weak, sinful humans that we are because that’s who composes the body of Christ.

We, you and I, have mutually chosen to be partners in mission together, of which I am thrilled. Before that, You all chose to be partners in mission and have done incredible work. Yet most important is the fact that Christ chose you as a partner in mission. And together we are tasked with the mission of the humble and obedient servant: to bring light to the nations, to open the eyes of those blind to suffering and oppression, and to establish justice in the earth.

Over the next few weeks and months, I will learn your names and your titles. But more than that, I want to know who you are: how you experience God in your life, what your passions are, and the ways you feel God at work in this community.

And I am confident we will move forward in this mission we share, not because of our names or our titles, but because of our shared identity. I am confident because God has called us in righteousness, taken us by the hand, and kept us. God is doing new things: in your life, in this community, and in the world.

Together, we will discern, act, and give praise to the one whose name is the Lord. Amen.

Luke 5:1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat.

When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink.

But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, son of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” When they brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

I usually read this story – or the other versions of it we find in the Gospels of Matthew and Mark, the ones about “fishing for people” – as being about evangelism, outreach, and growing the church. I like that image of Jesus sitting in a boat on the Sea of Galilee and teaching the crowds. I’m inspired by the “nets full of fish” and the promise from Jesus that “from now on, you’ll be catching people.” The whole image of fishing as one for bringing others into the Church is well-known to most of us.

And the state of the Church these days – in these pandemic days, I mean – make this Gospel story as timely as ever, it would seem. Consider some statistics about the last couple of years for a minute:

Only 52% of church-goers want primarily in-person services again (Barna)
71% of Boomers want primarily in-person services (Barna)
But less than 50% of Gen X (47%), Millennials (42%) and Gen Z (41%) want in-person services
In 2021, only 29% of Americans reported attending church in the last seven days, when asked – which was down from 48% in 2009. (Barna)
I’ve seen reports that churches are back to anywhere from 36% - 80% of what they were on average, before the pandemic started. Any way you slice it, that’s a pretty sharp decline.

So what in the world are we doing here? And how can we do it better? How can we make it more meaningful than it’s been in the past? Because the truth is, the decline in Church attendance and participation was happening long before any of us ever heard of COVID-19. The pandemic just accelerated what was already happening in a lot of churches, in a lot of ways.

But rather than wring our hands or cry in our fair-trade coffee… Rather than point our fingers or continue to fish in the same old waters, in the same old ways, I think we’re being invited to ask some different, bigger, more faithful questions about it all. And I think we can start finding answers and inspiration when we see what Jesus is up to – or not – in this morning’s Gospel.

See, when Jesus hijacks that boat and pushes off into the water that day, he just teaches. And then he tells Simon, who had been fishing all night long with no success, to cast his nets into deeper water. In spite of his reasonable doubts and serious insecurities, then, Simon Peter catches so many fish that his nets can barely hold them all and they start to tear. He catches so many fish that he has to call for backup and as they bring all of those fish into their boats, the weight of the catch is so great the boats actually begin to sink.

And what’s great about this story, and where I find the lesson for me and for all of us in the Church today – at Cross of Grace and otherwise – is that

Jesus didn’t actually do very much of anything. He did some teaching: maybe it was a sermon, maybe a study of Scripture, maybe he told another parable, we don’t know for sure. He offered some advice and direction: “get out into the deep water.” He gave the command: “let your nets down there.” And he made a promise: “from now on you will be catching people.” But what stands out to me in this first encounter with the first of his disciples, Jesus let them do all the work.

But unfortunately, while Jesus got things off to a great start, it’s not the way the Church has continued, in too many places.

Think about churches where you’ve been a member before. Were they congregations where the Pastor preached all of the sermons? Were they places where the Pastor visited all of the sick? Where the Pastor was expected to meet the needs of the people; to make the members happy; to do ministry but to not make waves? Were they places where 20% of the people did 80% of the work? Were they places where you – and most others – were expected to just show up on Sunday morning for worship and for special occasions like weddings, funerals and the annual Church picnic? (Unfortunately, I think this is the way things have forced so many churches to operate in the face of this pandemic.)

And all of this is the stuff of congregations who have members that want to be taken care of, who want to be served rather than to serve, who come to church looking for what it has to offer them, rather than helping to discern what they might have to offer the world. And this is the stuff of over-worked lay leaders, burned-out clergy, and dying congregations. And all of that is the stuff that leads to conflict, struggle, stagnation and demise. This is not who we have ever been or who I hope we will ever become at Cross of Grace.

It’s why we’ve always been deliberate about calling ourselves “Partners in Mission” here, instead of just “members.” As I said in a recent letter about our Building Fund, “The Church is not a country club. Cross of Grace is not a homeowners’ association. Discipleship is not like membership at the gym.” And I believe that mentality is what has sustained us until now – and what will keep us alive and well and thriving in the days to come.

So, I’m not interested in – nor do I think Churches should give two rips about – making, collecting, or catching “members.” I think our call at Cross of Grace these days is to consider – more meaningfully, again – what it means to be “Partners in Mission,” instead, and to wonder what the implications of that have had and could continue to have for us in the days to come.

I’m not saying we’ve got it all figure out or that Cross of Grace has perfected the art of discipleship by any stretch. But our history and experience tell a different story from a lot of churches like ours, too.

I’d bet today’s offering that our team of musicians – and Stephen Jordan – are as faithful and as talented as any you’ll find in a congregation anywhere. And as volunteers, they are Partners in Mission in every sense of those words.

We’re Partners in Mission, too, who still mow our own lawn, clean our own toilets, and shovel our own snow around here.

We are Partners in Mission who prioritize financial stewardship, too – who encourage each other to give joyfully and generously to the ministry we share – because practicing generosity is as good for us as it is for the Church. I hope our nearly-eliminated mortgage is a sign and invitation to more of that.

Our up-and-coming Stephen Ministry is an exercise in Mission Partnership, as well. It’s a team of faithful disciples who will share real, meaningful, lasting care with others in a way that too many people believe only the Pastor can or should be allowed to do.

And none of this – the worship, the music, the Bible studies and the building – none of this is supposed to end with us, anyway. It’s all meant to inspire and to send us out to love and care for and serve the world. Because this Mission Partnership thing isn’t about fish at all. It’s about people – catching, serving, loving, and getting to work for and with people.

And the statistics that matter more than all of that church membership stuff, for me, right now, are these:

That nearly 2,000 people are homeless in Indianapolis in weather like this.
That almost 30 million people in our country had no health insurance in 2020, the year the pandemic hit.
Teen suicide attempts are up during these pandemic days: 51% for girls, 4% for boys
That Black people make up 38% of our country’s prison population, but only 12% of the population as a whole.
Oh, and that one more Black man was killed while sleeping in an apartment in Minneapolis on Wednesday.

These statistics matter more to me, because I believe this is the kind of thing Jesus called us to do something about when he invited us to catch people – to gather up and tend to those who need food, shelter, love and justice.

Which is hard, heavy, overwhelming, uncomfortable work for which I feel ill-equipped and out of my league to carry out most days, to be honest. But it’s why I wondered a new thing about this whole fishing for people analogy this time around.

What if the fish in those nets today aren’t the analogy or the metaphor we’re supposed to focus on at all – at least when it comes to growing the church or gathering followers for Jesus? What if by “catching people,” we’re supposed to focus more on Simon’s fishing buddies – the partners in the other boats, like James, John, and whoever else showed up to help that day? What if we’re meant to realize there are plenty of hearts and hands on deck, waiting to join us in work that matters and that it’s our job to put them to work? It was the people who got caught up in and changed by following Jesus, after all. All of those fish in all of those nets, just became dinner, in the end.

See, I believe all of this is about showing the world and reminding each other that we’re in this together; that we’ve got good news to share, every one of us; that we have plenty of love to give, you and I; that we all have something to offer for the sake of God’s kingdom, because we have been offered, already, the joy of grace, good news, and new life in Jesus Christ.

And this Mission Partnership thing can only be done when we start to see ourselves and our neighbors like Peter finally did that day on the shores of Galilee – as curious souls, however sinful and broken, but called and capable, nonetheless. And I’m convinced that others will join us when we step out into deep waters, ourselves, when we cast wide nets, ourselves – and maybe even leave a thing or two behind, ourselves – and when we invite anyone who’s willing to help us … to get their hands dirty … and to follow Jesus’ lead in a new way, for a change.

Amen

"What's in a Name?"

Fishing for Partners in Mission