Where to begin?

The Second Sunday after the Epiphany, Year A

January 19, 2014

The Rev. Christopher L. Caddell

Where do you begin?

The first major construction project that I was involved in was nearly twenty years ago now.  It was the new Special Events Center on the campus of a University that will remain unnamed for the purposes of this sermon.  But it suffices to say that it was a complex and complicated project.

I was a lowly student worker back then, with the grand title of Assistant to the Project Inspector.  I took the job not knowing very much about anything that I would be doing.  All I knew was that I needed a job, preferred that it be in the construction industry, and the University was hiring. 

On my first day, I walked into the Project Inspectors office to find an extremely gruff man, hardened by forty years of field experience and aged by the carton of cigarettes he smoked each day.  Ken wasted no time in putting me to work.

On my first day he handed me a stack of papers – something that I later came to know were called Addendums – that reflected changes to the construction plans.  Those plans were daunting.  Nearly 1,000 pages in plan sheets, a three volume spec book (each of which required their own 4” three-ring binder), and a set of Addendums that were almost as thick.

 On my first day, I was told to take the Addendums and “post” them to the plans. Posting is essentially a cut and paste project – something that I’ve watched both my children do in Kindergarten – but after staring at this new project for several hours you could hardly tell I had even started.

I was overwhelmed.  What had I gotten myself into?  I hadn’t a clue what I was doing, and I was sure that this job was not going to last long.  I didn’t even know where to begin.

After spending nearly half the day tucked away in my office, my new boss walked in and in his gruff voice said, “Come on kid, let’s go for a walk.”  I was sure that this was the point where he was going to tell me, “Don’t you know anything?  You’re probably not cut out for this job.”

Instead, we walked out to the project site where they were drilling the first pier.  Ken didn’t say much but rather just let me watch as this massive piece of equipment drilled a six-foot diameter hole thirty-feet deep into the ground.

I’m sure the look on my face said it all.  I was amazed and astonished.  I had never been around such a complex project in my life, and yet here I was with absolutely no clue what I was doing.

That day began what would be a daily ritual for Ken and me.  Every day we would find a time to walk around the project together.  Whether it was sitework, structural, or finishes we would spend an hour or two together looking.  Ken remained a man of little words – often just pointing and leaving me with the task of trying to figure out what his experienced eye saw.

But four years and two major construction projects later, I had seen a lot.  Over the next eight years, I would see and learn even more.  But looking back I had come a long way from “I don’t even know where to begin.”

I imagine that story resonates in many places in our lives.  There are all kinds of places where we can feel unqualified, overwhelmed, and completely lost.  Not the least of which is our journey of faith. 

Last week we were reminded that God is continually making new beginnings.  Noah, Abraham, Moses, the people of Israel, Jesus– all of these were new starts, fresh beginnings.  And today we have another new beginning.  It is John’s version of the calling of the first disciples.

 Andrew, along with another of John’s disciples, meets Jesus for the first time.  It is John’s words about Jesus that make them curious – Look; here is the Lamb of God!

One wonders what they hoped to find in following Jesus.  Perhaps they didn’t even know.  After all, when Jesus questions them about what they are looking for, the best that they can offer is a question about where he is staying.

Would they have even followed had they known what lay ahead for them? 

What if Jesus had said, to follow me you will travel far and wide,

sleep in boats and in the fields,

never know where your next meal will come from,

listen to my teaching and witness the things that I do

and then be pushed to do those same things in my name.

And by the way, all of this will put you in grave danger.

And when the time is right, I will confront the authorities in Jerusalem,

and you will witness my brutal execution and burial,

and you will run for your lives.

Oh, and when all of that is completed,

that’s when it all really begins for you,

because you will carry on what I will begin,

travelling even farther and sharing this message with an even larger audience,

and coming into your own conflict with authority,

and losing your own life for the sake of others.

Instead, Jesus offers the very simple invitation to “Come and see.”

He doesn’t tell them what lies ahead.  He doesn’t even answer their question.  Just the gentle invitation to follow and see for themselves.

The teaching will come.

The challenges will be there.

The work, that even looking back is seemingly impossible, will come in time.

But it is the journey with Jesus, all beginning with a simple invitation, which will form them, prepare them, and give them the power to do ministry in his name.

That simple invitation is ours as well. 

Come and see.

Take a walk.

Journey with me and see what will come. 

Whether we are just beginning that journey or have been on this road our whole life, Jesus invites us deeper and deeper into the mystery of our faith with the simple words, “Come and see.”

It is our invitation to accept, and all we have to do is follow.  Amen.