January 25, 2026
3rd Sunday after the Epiphany – Mark S. Winward
“And Jesus said, ‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.’”
Once upon a time, there was a group of people who called themselves fishermen. They lived in an area where there were many fish—waters all around them. In fact, the whole area was surrounded by streams and lakes and rivers just filled with fish. And the fish were hungry.
Week after week, month after month, year after year, these people who called themselves fishermen held meetings and talked about their call to be fishermen, the abundance of fish, and they passed along all the latest innovations in fishing. Year after year, they carefully defined what fishing was all about, defended fishing as a noble occupation, and declared that fishing is always the primary task of fishermen.
They constantly searched for new and better methods of fishing, and for new and better definitions of fishing. They loved such slogans as “Fishing is the task of every fisherman.” They sponsored special meetings known as “Fisherman’s Campaigns.” They went on nationwide and even worldwide tours to discuss fishing and promote fishing and hear about all the new developments and technological advances in fishing and new ways of presenting the bait to the fish that made it more attractive and alluring.
They built large, beautiful buildings called “Fishing Headquarters,” and selected some of their best fishermen to staff it. They appealed to everyone to become fishermen. There was only one thing they did not do. They didn’t fish. Ever.
In addition to organizing and holding regularly scheduled meetings, they organized a board to send out fishermen to other parts of the world where the fish were plentiful. The board appointed various committees and held many meetings to talk about fishing, defend fishing, and develop new strategies for fishing. But the committee members never went fishing.
Large, expensive training centers were built for the purpose of teaching fishermen how to fish. They offered courses on the needs of fish, the nature of fish, dealing with the different generations of fish, the psychological makeup of fish, and how to approach and feed fish. The professors all had degrees in fishology, but none of them ever went fishing. They only taught fishing. After completing the course of study, graduates were given their fishing license and sent out to do full-time fishing, some to distant waters that were filled with fish.
Many who felt the call to be fishermen responded. They were commissioned and sent to fish. But like the fishermen back home, they could talk for hours about the need for fishing, and they knew all the current developments in fishing, but they didn’t fish. They were too busy doing other things. Some said they really wanted to fish, but since they just didn’t have time, they would just furnish fishing equipment for others. Others felt that their job was to establish a good relationship with the fish so that the fish would be more receptive to the fishermen.
After one stirring meeting on “The Necessity for Fishing,” one young fellow left the meeting and actually went fishing. He reported the next day that he caught two outstanding fish. He was honored for his excellent catch, and immediately a nationwide tour was scheduled so that he could visit all the big meetings and tell how he did it. So he quit fishing at once in order to have time to tell others about the experience. He was also placed on the Fishermen’s General Board, which consumed quite a bit of his time, so much so that he had no time at all for fishing.
Now it’s true that many of the fishermen made personal sacrifices and put up with all kinds of difficulties. Some lived near the water and had to bear the smell of dead and decaying fish every day. They were ridiculed by some who made fun of their fishermen’s clubs and for the fact that, though they claimed to be fishermen, they never fished. They wondered about those people who felt that attending weekly meetings to talk about fishing was a waste of time. After all, were they not following the Master, who said, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men”?
Imagine how hurt they were when one day someone suggested that those who don’t catch fish were not really fishermen, no matter how much they claimed to be. But they understood the criticism. After all, can people who never catch any fish really claim to be fishermen? (Adapted by Johnny Dean from Darrell W. Robinson, People Sharing Jesus, Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 1995, pp. 21–23.)
Today’s readings, of course, aren’t about fishing at all. Rather, they are about the calling of disciples. And radical discipleship lies at the heart of our faith.
Matthew’s Gospel describes Jesus walking beside the Sea of Galilee when he sees two brothers, Simon Peter and Andrew, casting a net into the sea. He does not invite them to a meeting. He does not ask them to study the theory of fishing for people. He simply says, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.” And Matthew tells us simply that immediately they left their nets and followed him. A little farther along, the same thing happens with James and John. They leave their boat, their father, and their livelihood, and they follow.
Matthew emphasizes not what the disciples felt, but what they did. Unlike Luke’s account, there is no recorded confession of sin here, no protest of unworthiness, no hesitation. What matters is the authority of Jesus’ call and the obedience of those who hear it. Discipleship, in Matthew’s telling, begins not with introspection but with response.
This does not mean that humility or self-awareness aren’t important unimportant. Rather, Matthew assumes them. To leave one’s nets, one’s boat, and one’s family is to acknowledge—without words—that one’s life no longer belongs to oneself. It is a tacit confession that Jesus has the right to redirect one’s priorities, redefine one’s purpose, and reframe one’s future.
A disciple of Christ, then, is first and foremost one who responds to the call. The call is not vague or abstract. “Follow me,” Jesus says. Not to admire me. Not to analyze me. Not simply believe correct things about me. Follow me. Discipleship is movement. It is action. It is a willingness to go where Jesus goes and to do what Jesus does.
Second, a disciple trusts that God will provide. Matthew underscores the cost of discipleship by how little explanation he offers. The disciples do not negotiate. They do not secure backup plans. They leave their nets and boats behind—symbols of stability, identity, and security. The immediacy of their response highlights the risk involved. To follow Jesus is to trust that obedience is safer than control, that God’s provision is more reliable than familiar routines. True discipleship accepts uncertainty because it trusts the One who calls.
Finally, a disciple embraces the mission. Jesus does not merely say, “Follow me.” He adds, “I will make you fish for people.” The disciples are not only called away from something; they are called toward something. Following Jesus always leads outward. Discipleship is never an end in itself. It is participation in God’s work of drawing others into life, healing, and restoration.
This brings us back to the fishermen in our first story. The tragedy is not that they lacked knowledge or organization or passion. It is that they substituted talk for action. Matthew’s Gospel allows no such substitution. The call of Jesus demands a response, and the response defines the disciple.
The people Jesus calls in Matthew are not extraordinary. They are working fishermen, ordinary people doing ordinary labor on an ordinary day. What makes them remarkable is not who they are, but what they do when Jesus calls. Christian discipleship does not require special qualifications—only availability and obedience.
The heart of Christianity is not comfort. It is calling. It is not endless preparation. It is faithful response. Real Christianity is demanding because it is active. It requires leaving nets behind, trusting God’s provision, and committing ourselves to the mission Jesus sets before us – sharing our faith in both word and deed. To follow Christ is to move—from spectators to participants, from talkers to doers, from fishermen in name only to those who actually cast their nets at his command.
January 18, 2026
2nd Sunday after the Epiphany – Mark S. Winward
Have you ever wondered what it really means to be “Church”? Not in the abstract, but in a way that gives weight to why we have gathered here this morning—why prayer, Scripture, sacrament, and fellowship matter at all. If the Church is merely a human institution, then what we do risks becoming little more than habit or sentiment. But if the Church is something God brings into being—something alive in Christ—then our gathering has eternal significance.
This morning’s Gospel from John takes us back to the very beginnings of the Church, before buildings, hierarchies, or denominational divisions. We see simple encounters: testimony, invitation, recognition, and response. John the Baptist points to Jesus. Andrew follows. Andrew brings Simon. And Jesus gives Simon a new name: Cephas—Peter, the rock.
That naming has echoed through Christian history. Peter’s new name signals stability, responsibility, and vocation. It points forward to the Church taking shape, stone by stone, through human lives called and transformed by Christ. Yet from this moment has also flowed deep disagreement about what the Church is meant to be and how it is to be held together.
Christians have long differed over whether Jesus intended, in naming Peter, to establish a concrete and enduring structure of authority in the world, or whether he was pointing more fundamentally to a spiritual reality that transcends any one institution. Roman Catholic theology sees in Peter’s naming the seed of a visible,
January 11, 2026
1st Sunday after the Epiphany – Mark S. Winward
Today is the First Sunday after Epiphany, the season of the Church Year that celebrates the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. Appropriately, that ministry begins not with a sermon or a miracle, but with Jesus standing in the Jordan River, submitting to baptism by John. Yet for many people, today’s Gospel reading can be confusing. On the one hand, the surrounding verses in Matthew chapter 3, as well as the witness of the other Gospels, make it clear that John’s baptism was a baptism of repentance, intended for the cleansing of sins. On the other hand, Scripture also clearly affirms that Jesus was without sin. As Paul writes, “For our sake God made Christ to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21, RSV). So what is going on here? Was Jesus submitting to something that did not apply to him? Were the Gospel writers—or Paul—simply confused? I want to suggest that three things are happening in Jesus’ baptism that help us understand not only his baptism, but our own.
First, Jesus’ baptism is proleptic. In Scripture, there are moments when one event foreshadows another. Scholars describe such passages as proleptic. Jesus’ baptism is a clear example of this. The Gospels tell the story of his baptism in a way that points beyond the Jordan River to his death at the end of the Gospel narrative.
January 6, 2025
Feast of the Epiphany – Mark S. Winward
There are a lot of popular misconceptions surrounding the wise men we celebrate this evening in the Christmas story. One of the most persistent is the assumption that they were kings. The biblical text, unlike our lovely opening hymn, never calls them kings. Matthew refers to them as magoi, or magi. While magi is often translated as “wise men,” there is no linguistic or historical basis for believing they were royalty. Rather, the magi were a caste of shamanic or priestly sages from Persia. Because they were experts in astrology and the interpretation of dreams, they were frequently sought out as advisors to pagan kings, but that does not make them kings themselves.
Another widespread assumption concerns the number of wise men. Scripture makes no reference at all to how many people were in their traveling entourage. The gospel tells us only that three gifts were presented to the Christ child. Over time, the church assumed that each visitor would have brought a gift, and since three gifts are listed, there must have been three wise men. In fact, the Eastern Church traditionally held that as many as nine wise men visited Jesus. The reality is that no one knows how many magi made the journey.
A third misconception is that the wise men visited Jesus in the manger on the night of his birth. Matthew’s account tells us that the star “went before them,