2026-01-26
Brooke Strong
Sermon Text...
Zebedee looks around at the nets still to be mended, no sons to help with the work, employees staring at him wondering what to do next.
Then he realizes he has to go home and tell his wife. Oh dear.
“Honey, they wandered off with Jesus.”
“Jesus? That carpenter’s son they hang out with some-times? You mean they just left their work? Well, they’ll have a lot of catching up to do when they get back tomorrow.”
“I don’t think they’re coming back tomorrow. I think they may be gone a while.”
“A while? Like a week?”
“Longer, maybe.”
“Longer than a week?” She is mad. She blames him, he can tell.
He blames himself. Things have always been hard with those boys. They have never been excited about the fishing biz. Zebedee inherited a boat and the love of fishing from his own father, and he has built it into something. He’s found outlets for his fish in nearby towns and has made enough money to buy another boat and hire some men to help out.
He loves the idea of providing a service that everyone needs: good local food at a reasonable price. He sells fish from a wooden table he sets up every afternoon at the docks. Every day there is product left over — some fish, an eel or two, and he packs it up for his walk home.
He knows the people in the shacks and the ones who don’t even have a shack but who have a little fire pit. He stops to drop off something for them. From these people, generally widows with no source of income, he takes no payment other than a smile and a thank you.
Early on, Zebedee’s sons went with him on these stops and seemed to enjoy it, but as they became teens it annoyed them that their father stopped at the homes of the poor, and they began to make excuses to go on home ahead of him. Eventually, there were no excuses offered; they just left the boat at the end of the workday and headed out without their father.
But this leaving with Jesus feels different, much more long term. They’ve been better, nicer now that they spend more time with Jesus. Zebedee likes Jesus. A young man with morals and strength of character. Jesus often stops and talks with Zebedee at the end of the day and sometimes tries to help a little with the net mending. Jesus is terrible at mending. Even so, Zebedee continues to try to teach him, just so he can hear Jesus talk while they work together. He loves the things Jesus says about God, and about justice for the poor.
Zebedee has noticed that his sons listen too. They have been working harder and they have begun once again to accompany Zebedee at the end of the day when he makes his walk among the homes of the poor. Finally Zebedee has the relationship he’s always wanted with his sons. They are enjoying their time with one another and he believes they could be real business partners with him.
Then, one day, this day, Jesus comes and says, “It’s time. Let’s go.” And they just follow him. They leave Zebedee with kisses but no tears. They seem so happy and excited.
And then they are gone.
Why are they so eager to go? Has he not appreciated them enough? And what about him? Wouldn’t he love to go have this spiritual adventure? But he couldn’t get up and leave even if he wanted to. He has responsibilities — the boat, his home, his wife, his other children. The poor widows. Who would feed them all if he left?
The next day after the evening meal, Zebedee goes to see his rabbi, who is actually a friend of Jesus. The two rabbis — Jesus and rabbi Josephus — have spent long hours talking theology, dissecting ideas from the Torah, thinking about what God is like. Rabbi Josephus is a lot like Jesus, in that they are both interested in justice, fairness, and following God’s teachings. Josephus says he wishes he could have followed Jesus, but he has a wife and children too, responsibilities for a congregation, a school where he teaches the boys to read. Zebedee agrees.
If the nets aren’t mended, how will the workers fish? And if the fishing is abandoned, how will people eat? It wasn’t that Jesus’ call didn’t extend to Zebedee. It’s that Zebedee was called to stay put, to mend nets, to fish. He misses his sons so much his chest aches. He is also more than a little envious of their adventurous calling.
Yet his own call continues. He is mending, fishing, feeding. He goes home this night to his wife and his other children. He stops along the way to share food with the widows.
Left behind? Yes. Of course. Sometimes we are left behind. For a purpose. To pray, to work, to love, to do.
This telling of the story from Zebedee’s point of view was written by Melissa Bane Sevier and shared with permission. Melissa is a retired Presbyterian minister from Kentucky who now works as a freelance writer and photographer. I wanted to share it not only because it is well-written and intriguing to hear the story from this perspective, but because it also speaks to an important point, one that was very personal for me this week.
A week ago Friday MARCH, a pro-queer group of clergy and faith leaders committed to collective liberation and freedom, put out a call to clergy to come to the city this week to support them in resisting the tyranny happening there. The two-day event would begin with training to prepare faith leaders to respond when ICE comes to our cities while the second day would be spent participating in the Day of Truth and Freedom.
I saw it and immediately began planning to attend. Flights to Minneapolis were more expensive than flying to Europe, so I checked out driving and recruiting other local clergy to go with me. By Monday, we had four people, including Brian Bagley Bonner, committed to going and made a great travel plan. However, when we registered, we learned that the response was so overwhelming that registration had to be closed. The organizing group wisely chose to limit participation so that they could maximize effectiveness.
While I am thrilled that the response was so huge, I was – and still am – devastated that I didn’t get to go. I felt a strong sense of call to stand in solidarity with those living in such oppression in their own city and to help members of the immigrant community who don’t dare leave their homes. I wanted to deliver meals, help people get medical care and ensure children could safely go to school. When I learned more about the training that I could bring back to northeast Ohio, I was even more crushed. For several days, I really struggled with the reality of missing this chance!
So you can imagine that when I read Melissa Sevier’s retelling of this gospel story, it resonated. I began to consider that sometimes we are called to stay behind, to be rather than to act, even when that isn’t our general nature. As Wednesday morning dawned, the day we were to depart, and I was still struggling with the effects of my concussion, I admitted that had I registered in time and been invited to go, I would have. But that wouldn’t have been a great decision for my health or my obligations here as your pastor and as a wife, mother and friend.
So I have spent the week working to determine what my call is in this moment. I participated in the beautiful prayer vigil Susi Kawolics put together on Friday afternoon. I will attend Learning from Minnesota, the organizing call sponsored by the Living Water Association on Thursday so that I can be a part of the team leading the response when ICE arrives here. I realized I was being reminded of the hard truth that some-times God calls us in ways and to things that aren’t of our choosing. And I reread the gospel text, paying attention to the ways that call permeates this entire passage from Matthew:
John the Baptist is called to be the forerunner to Jesus, even though it leads to his imprisonment. Jesus withdraws, not to retreat, but to be intentional in listening and responding to God’s call. Then Jesus calls the crowd to become part of God’s in-breaking realm before he finally calls a few specific fishermen. There are many kinds of calling here, but each is from God.
This is where I think we – at least I – often miss the point: we think calling is about what we do rather than what we are called to be. Zebedee struggles initially because he isn’t called to follow Jesus . . . until he realizes that he is called to be so many other important things: a provider not only for his wife and children, but also for those in his village who need food at a reasonable price, and then for the widows who he helps to feed. He is called to be a child of God whose role matters.
I had planned to finish my sermon on this note, about being children of God. After last week, I wanted a sermon that was a bit lighter and more uplifting. I didn’t want to ruffle the feathers of people whose views of events in this country differ from the ones I see as following the teachings of Jesus to love our neighbors . . . and our enemies, to stand with the vulnerable, to seek justice, love kindness and walk humbly with God.
But then I the news of yet another person killed by ICE in Minneapolis. And I could no longer end my sermon on a comfortable note. What is happening on the streets of an American city defy partisan politics; this is about respect for human life.
Although conflicting reports are swirling yet again as the administration calls Alex Pretti a domestic terrorist, every video I have watched shows a man trying to protect two women who were thrown to the ground by ICE agents. As Pretti moves to put his body between the women and the agents, he is pepper sprayed in the face at close range. A struggle then ensues and for a second, it is hard to see what exactly is happening. But almost instantly, he is wrestled to the ground by at least five federal agents and then pummeled in the head by one of them. Moments later shots ring out . . . not one or two . . . but ten shots. They continue long after it is clear that the life is gone from the man lying face down in the street.
Friends, we are indeed called to be disciples of Jesus, those who carry out his teachings, those who live as children of God. And as disciples, as people of faith, we MUST respond to that call! To sit idly by hoping this will all go away, or to defend the killing of people in such a brutal way, is antithetical to the teachings of Jesus. The call that each of us hears may vary, just as it did for those in the gospel. But we are all called to respond.
Maybe your call is more like Zebedee’s: to fulfill your obligations at home, to feed the people who count on you. Maybe you are called to pray and give witness, to challenge the narrative that tries to justify the actions of harm.
Perhaps you are called to take action. Consider joining me on the Learning from Minnesota call this Thursday. Or make time to attend the Faith Response to Immigration Gathering at Camp Christian in March. Know that the needs on the ground in Minneapolis are huge right now. Consider giving financial support or having needed items shipped there. Three sources I have vetted are noted on the screen. Take a picture and make a donation.
Knowing ourselves to be God’s beloved children, we must respond to a situation where vulnerable people are being harmed. Please . . . spend some time in prayer this week listening for how God is calling you to respond, whether you are called to stay behind, to be rather than do. To pray, to work, to love. May we all learn to accept God’s call, whatever it may be, with grace and faith. Amen.