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January 27, 2008
What Happened to Zebedee?
Matthew 4:12-23
If you are fortunate enough to someday visit what we commonly call “the Holy Land” you will find in a museum, somewhere near where the shores of the Lake used to be in Galilee, a boat which will be identified as the one belonging to a fellow named Zebedee. (Travelling in Israel, you'll find people more than willing to show you anything you can think of from the New Testament – the place where the Sermon on the Mount was preached or the very rock on which John the Baptist was standing when Jesus approached him to be baptized in the River Jordan which you will also be amazed to see, in this day of massively irrigated agriculture, is reduced to a trickle of at most a couple of feet wide.)
Of course there is no way to know where Jesus attended a wedding in Cana or which house was the one in which Jairus' daughter lay dying in her bed before being visited by Jesus, much of that history has been buried, burned, or totally dismantled by two millennia of warfare and the ravages of modernization. Yet, there is this fishing boat in a museum, and believe it or not, it has been carbon dated to exactly the time of Jesus. Apparently it had been mired in the mud. In one of the most remarkable archaeological finds anywhere in the Holy Land (which is full of them), a boat was found sticking out of the mud one summer when the level of the Sea of Galilee dropped dramatically in a period of dry weather. With great care it was lifted clear of the sea bottom, cleaned and preserved. Now, in a special exhibit, millions of visitors can see the sort of boat Jesus' first followers used for fishing.
As described in an article in a newer commentary on the Gospel of Matthew, the boat is a vivid reminder of the day-to-day existence of his followers - and of what it cost them to give it all up and follow Jesus. They were, in today's language, small businessmen, working as families not for huge profits but to make enough to live on and have a little leftover. Fish were plentiful and there were good markets. In a cosmopolitan area, with soldiers, wayfarers, pilgrims, and peddlers coming and going, as well as the local population, people would always want what they were selling. But it was hard work, and sometimes dangerous. Their lives were modestly secure, but hardly luxurious.1
So why did they give it all up to follow a wandering preacher? Why did the two sons and partners of their father Zebedee, drop everything and head off after this itinerate Rabbi who had suddenly burst on the scene out of nowhere? What happened to Zebedee when his partners up and left? Later, we learn, even his good wife Salomé became one of the women who are part of the band of followers who accompanied Jesus.
Well, of course, we can only speculate. Maybe Zebedee had some nephews on his brother's side, or there were other, unnamed siblings of James and John who could take over the family business and work for their father, keeping the nets mended and hopefully providing sufficient catch to make ends meet for the family. Maybe Zebedee went broke and had to depend on the charity of his neighbors. All we do know is that his sons “left their father” to follow Jesus, so Zebedee could no longer count on the help of the “Sons of Thunder” as the brothers come to be called elsewhere in the Gospels.
The imagery of fishermen and “fishing for men” is very much a part of this narrative of the call of the first disciples. Each Gospel describes the period of recruitment in a little different way, but all make a point of identifying the core group of disciples with the fishing profession. Clearly there are lots of analogies to be made regarding that undertaking.
A couple of years ago, I went fishing for Halibut in the waters off Alaska. Those are big fish! All muscle. What happens to a fish when it is pulled out of the water? It dies...doesn't it? But not at first…in fact on this trip when one friend caught a 125 pounder, another friend nearly got thrown into the ocean by the reflexive movement of that big guy fighting for his life even after he had drawn his last breath. What does of a fisherman do with fish? He hooks them, gaffs them...drags them up out of the safety of their watery environment in which they struggle with every ounce of strength to stay safely at home. With Halibut, I learned, it is common to have to shoot them before you can land them in the boat. The awkward problem with discipleship, when it is offered, is that it means taking the risk of leaving the comforts and the protection of what is known and understood...perhaps to be thrust into a new environment which might leave us gasping for air. As one writer has put it, “When Christ calls, he beckons us beyond the point of familiarity, asking us to risk doing something we don't know how to do, to become someone we're not yet sure we know how to be. It's not just that we are taking a risk on Christ. Each and every time he calls, he is taking a risk on us.” 2
Reinhold Niebuhr once remarked that, “religion is very easily used to obscure, rather than to reveal...” Just as Christianity at it's weakest teaches some to cover-up or ignore the fears about death which dominate human life....it often preaches [as well] an easy kind of salvation that demands very little of the believer but some sort of assent to be saved. This kind of superficial faith provides little real support and is hardly recognizable as discipleship.” 3
While Chaplain at Duke University Chapel, William Willimon, told the story of a meeting with the parents of one of Duke's high powered seniors on the eve of his graduation. It turns out that the young man had made a decision to enter seminary – not necessarily to be a minister, but because he was interested in developing his own sense of call as a disciple in that context instead of in the context of a high-powered MBA program in places like Philadelphia, Chicago, or Stamford. “You must be proud of your son's choices,” ventured Willimon. “On the contrary, we are desperate to change his mind,” responded the young man's parents. “Why should he waste his life with some foolish idealism, when he could be acquiring the tools to be a leader. If we had thought encouraging him to attend church was going to foster this kind of foolishness, we never would have taken him to Sunday school…”
You see, the risk is not only to self. In some ways that is the easy part because it is a personal decision to open the heart to the Spirit of Christ in a new way…a way that changes one forever. As James Baldwin wrote, “Any real change implies the breakup of the world as one has always known it. . . the end of safety,” and like any good fish, our instincts are to resist and dodge as long as we can before we willfully enter into a new way of looking at the world. Again, that choice is ours. What is tough, and what is often the most troublesome is the fact of Zebedee in the boat. The folks who are left behind wondering “what in the world has happened to my son!” are the ones who potentially make the most noise and throw up the most convincing roadblocks on the way of responding to a call.
Lucy is sitting in her Psychiatric Booth...Charlie stands to the side: “Life is like a deck chair, Charlie,” she says. “On the cruise ship of life, some people place their deck chair at the rear of the ship so they can see where they've been. Others place their deck chair at the front of the ship so they can see where they're going.” The good “doctor” looks at her puzzled client and asks, “Which way is your deck chair facing?” Without hesitating, Charlie replies glumly, “I can't even get my deck chair unfolded.”
Even to say “yes” to the person who calls on the phone to invite you to be a Deacon or an Elder or a member of a committee, teach Sunday School or usher in the Sanctuary, is to make a new wave in the roiling waters of a busy lifestyle.
I remember as a kid whenever there would be a death in the church family, I knew it fairly quickly because I would come home from school to discover one or another of my favorite dishes being prepared by my mother. Stuffed baked potatoes was the most common temptation. They would be sitting on the counter, nicely boxed and ready to be delivered. “Any for us?” I would wonder aloud. “No, I did not have enough this time…they are for the family of So and So who has just died.”
Zebedee had to give up his sons and business partners, I had to give up stuffed baked potatoes, the issues are the same…a call to discipleship means a change in priorities. The folks who are used to you always being there, the ones who have come to count on you for this or that, for good food and handy transportation to music lessons, are going to have to adjust to some new activities in your life.
We know very little about Zebedee, but one thing we know for certain, Zebedee figured out right away that something pretty important had happened to his sons James and John. Perhaps if I had not seen my parents make the choices they did to serve the church and the community in a variety of different ways, I might have never have understood that discipleship is not just an honor bestowed by Jesus as he walked by the seaside and saw some fishermen, discipleship is a change of heart and with it comes a new routine and a new set of demands.
As William O. Paulsell, a counselor in the area of spiritual development points out in a recent article, “It is unlikely that we will deepen our relationship with God in a casual or haphazard manner. There will be need for some intentional commitment and some reorganization in our own lives. But there is nothing that will enrich our lives [and the lives of those with whom we interact daily] than a deeper and clearer perception of God's presence in the routine of daily living.”
My guess is that Zebedee was not only proud of his sons, after he adjusted, he also in his own time and own way was changed by their witness to the ways in which faith transforms life at all levels. Several people are going to be installed this morning as officers of our congregation. Many more of you are already serving in one capacity or another. Those who have embraced that calling know that part of the struggle of being faithful to the call to serve is embracing the changes that will affect all of your relationships. But after all, isn't that the most important kind of witness to faith that there is?
Zebedee, our last question to you is, “Which way is your deck chair facing?” AMEN.
1 Tom Wright, Matthew for Everyone - Part One, Chapters 1-15 , Westminster JohnKnox Press, 2004, pp. 30-33 Go Back
2 Mark Ralls, “ What About Zebedee?” (Mt. 4:12-23) The Christian Century , January 11, 2005 p. 17. Go Back
3 Martin B. Copenhaver quotes Niebuhr in To Begin at the Beginning , United Church Press, Cleveland, Ohio, 1994.Go Back
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