As we celebrate 150 years of being church, I think it is good to highlight something that is central to who we are as the First Christian Church in Lynchburg, VA. And that is fishing. You knew that right? Why else would we adorn our communion table with a giant, very colorful, diverse mosaic of a giant fishing net. There’s a great description of our fishing net parament hanging on the wall in the back of the sanctuary that I encourage you to read when you have a chance.

Our fishing net is appropriate as the gospels are full of great fishing stories. Like the story of Jesus is having church on the beach. Luke tells us that the congregation gathered that day is so large, they keep “pressing in on him to hear the word of God,” almost pushing Jesus into the water!

It is then that Jesus sees two boats belonging to some fishermen who are out washing their nets. He climbs into one of the boats belonging to a fella named Simon and asks him to put it out a little way from the shore so he could teach the crowds on the beach from the boat, setting up a little pulpit on the water.

After the Benediction is pronounced and church is over, Jesus says to Simon, “Let’s move the boat to some deeper waters and go fishing.” And this is the moment, for Simon and all of us, that church really begins.

Simon says, “Jesus, we’ve been fishing all night long and haven’t caught a thing. But, if you say so, I’ll cast my net one more time.”

It is then that Luke tells us that they catch so many fish that they had to call in re-enforcements and a second boat. Filled with so many fish, the nets almost break.

Do you remember Simon’s reaction to this glorious catch? “Praise God from whom all blessings flow for this miraculous catch of fish!”

Nope, not even close.

Scared to death, Simon says the almost unthinkable: “Go away from me Lord!”

Then, as it usually is with the stories of Jesus, we learn there is much more going on here than a few folks going fishing. As our scripture lesson in Mark reminds us, this story in Luke is not a story about catching fish at all. It is a story about catching people. It is a story about inclusion. It is a story about bringing new people aboard.

And like Simon, this can scare us sto death.

Growing up in Northeastern North Carolina surrounded by water, I quickly learned that there are basically two types of fishermen.[i] First, there’s the fisherman who really doesn’t care if they catch anything at all. They are perfectly content sitting in their boat with a line in the water. It doesn’t bother them in the least if they do not get a nibble all day long. Enjoying the sunshine and the fresh air, the brim of their hat pulled down over their eyes, they are so comfortable, so at peace, so at home, they might even doze off and take a little nap. They are just happy to be in the boat. They’ve got a bag lunch, some snacks and a few cold beverages, and a bumper sticker on their truck that reads: “A bad day fishing is better than a good day at work.”

And besides, if they did catch anything, which by the way would be by sheer accident or dumb luck since they’re not paying any attention whatsoever to their pole, that would just mean for some work for them to do when they get back to the shore. And the one thing that fishing is not supposed to be is work!

I am afraid I have just painted a portrait of many in the church today. We’re perfectly content just to have one line in the water, not really caring if we ever bring anyone else aboard. Because bringing aboard others always involves work. It involves sacrifice. Because you know about others? They are just so “other.”

So, the purpose of church is reduced to making sure that everyone who is already in the boat is happy, peaceful, and comfortable. If we catch something, that’s well and good. But if we don’t catch anything, well, that is probably for the best.

Then, we have the second kind of fisherman. These are the ones who are really intentional about catching fish. This was my Nana and Granddaddy.

On the water with Nana and Granddaddy, I didn’t know whether to call what we were doing out there in the boat “fishing” or “moving.” Because oftentimes, as soon as I could get some bait on my hooks and drop it in the water, I’d hear Granddaddy say, “Alright, let’s reel ‘em in. We’re going to find another place where the fish are more hungry.” I remember spending as much time watching the bait and tackle on the end of my line fly in the wind as we moved from place to place as I did watching it in the water. But guess what? With Nana and Granddaddy, we moved a lot, but we always caught a lot of fish!

To be the church that God is calling us to be, we must be a people on the move, willing to change, go to other places, and we must be intentional.

We must constantly reel in our lines to go outside of these walls to meet people exactly where they are, not where we might want them to be, but where they are, especially in those deep, dark places where people are hungry for love and starving for grace; where they are famished for liberty, and thirsty justice and equality.

And we must be willing to express our intentionality, publicly, out loud.

Many churches today are happy to say: “All are welcome.” But what does that truly mean? Welcome by whom?  For all can’t be welcome unless someone is doing the welcoming. Right? That’s why we need to be explicit saying, “The First Christian Church of Lynchburg, Virginia welcomes all.”

And who is “all”? Sadly, today saying “all” not saying enough. “All” who want to look like us, believe like us and behave like us?

That’s why we have to say it, and say it explicitly, intentionally, out loud. Especially today, we need to keep saying that this church welcomes people who identify as LGBTQIA+. We need to say out loud that we do not believe being queer is any more sinful than being cisgendered and heterosexual can be. We need to keep saying publicly that we affirm all people are created in the image of God. We are not afraid to say out loud that this church believes black lives matter and black and brown people are always welcome here. To sit in our pews, be on our boards, lead our worship and preach from our pulpits.

We need to keep saying that our church welcomes women and believes women can teach a Bible study class that is of full men. We believe women, as well as people who identify as LGBTQIA+, can be teachers, preachers, pastors and even President of the Denomination. We believe women have power in the church’s boardroom, and that they always have power over their own bodies.

And when you are welcomed here, we need to keep reminding you that you become a part of our body; thus, when you suffer, we all suffer. So, you can count on us to be there for you, to care for you, to pray with you, and to fight for you when the world treats you unjustly.

The problem is that too many churches today are sitting back, half asleep, with one pole in the water. They are not moving, not changing, and not going out. And they are not intentionally saying anything, at least anything out loud. They could care less if anyone new comes to them, but if by sheer accident or dumb luck someone new does happen to come aboard, churches expect them to come aboard in a manner that measures up to their own expectations.

I will never forget that Nana used to go fishing with this special red pocketbook. It was leather or maybe vinyl and must have been lined with plastic. Nana always went fishing with this pocketbook, because when Nana was about the business of catching flounder, Nana did not discriminate.

When it came to flounders, you could say, Nana was Open and Affirming. Nana very graciously welcomed all flounders aboard the boat, even if they did not measure up to the expectations of the North Carolina Wildlife Commission.

I remember measuring a flounder: “Oh no! This flounder is an inch too short, I guess I need to throw him back.”

“Oh, you will do no such thing!” Nana would say, “He’s ‘pocket-book size!’”

Here’s what you don’t know, Nana’s son, my uncle, at the time, was a North Carolina Game Warden. Nana risked getting into trouble not only with the state, but with her own family.

I have heard it said, “If following Jesus does not get you into some trouble, then you’re probably not doing right.”

Pastors are constantly getting into trouble, for it is impossible to please everyone. But what’s crazy to me is that I have gotten into the most trouble when I have preached sermons on loving our neighbors, when I preach against hate and discrimination and for unconditionally loving and fully including people who may not measure up to our cultural, societal, or religious expectations.

I have had family members actually tell me that they are ashamed of me and that I embarrass them by preaching such inclusivity.

Some believe the sole purpose of the church is about making sure that everyone who is already in the boat is contented, comfortable and happy. They are unaware that Jesus calls us all to fish for people, to cast a large net bringing others aboard without discrimination, leading them to make the life-giving, world-changing decision to join a movement following the way of love that Jesus taught his disciples.

And God help us when the church is embarrassed to stand up to our friends and family and shout with the Apostle Paul: “For I am not ashamed of the gospel; it is the power of God for salvation!”  What’s the rest of that verse? “For everyone…Jew and Gentile. (Romans 1:16). Everyone.

I am afraid that many churches today are like fearful ol’ Simon, who upon looking at all those different fish in the boat, responded to Jesus with those unthinkable words, “Lord, go away from me.” They say it today through their exclusive membership policies, through their by-laws, creeds and confessions and in their sermons. And it is the main reason why so many churches today look nothing like Jesus.

Late Disciples of Christ pastor Fred Craddock loved to tell the story of one local church. Although their sign out front read, “A church that serves all people,” when all people would show up to be served, the exclusive spirit of the congregation continually drove the newcomers away.

About ten years went by. When, one day, Craddock was driving down the road where that church was located when he saw that the building that once housed that church had been converted into a restaurant.

Curious, he stopped and went inside. In the place where they used to be pews, there were now tables and chairs. The choir loft and baptistery was now the kitchen. And the area which once contained the pulpit and communion table now had an all-you-can-eat salad bar. And the restaurant was full of patrons—every age, color and creed.

Upon seeing the sad, but very intriguing transformation, Craddock thought to himself, “At last, God finally got that church to serve all people.”

[i] I heard Rev. Jesse Jackson allude to these “2 types of fishermen” at the Oklahoma Regional Men’s Retreat at Camp Christian, Guthrie, Oklahoma in 2016.