Hinge Moments

Hinge Moments      Isaiah 9:1-4   Matthew 4:12-23                          

         It was a bitterly cold evening in northern Virginia many years ago.  The old man's beard was glazed by winter's frost while he waited for a ride across the river.  The wait seemed endless.  His body became numb and stiff from the frigid north wind.

         He heard the faint, steady rhythm of approaching hooves galloping along the frozen path.  Anxiously, he watched as several horsemen rounded the bend.  He let the first one pass by without an effort to get his attention; then another passed by, and another.  Finally, the last rider neared the spot where the old man caught the rider's eye and said, "Sir, would you mind giving an old man a ride to the other side?  There doesn't appear to be a passageway by foot."

         Reining his horse, the rider replied, "Sure thing.  Hop aboard."  Seeing the old man was unable to lift his half-frozen body from the ground, the horseman dismounted and helped the old man onto the horse.  The horseman took the old man not just across the river, but to his destination, which was a few miles away.  As they neared the tiny, but cozy cottage, the horseman's curiosity caused him to inquire, "Sir, I notice that you let several riders pass by without making an effort to secure a ride.  Then I come up and you immediately asked me for a ride.  I'm curious why, on such a bitter winter night, you would wait for the last rider. What if I had refused and left you there?"

         The old man lowered himself slowly down from the horse, looked the rider straight in the eyes, and replied, "I've been around these here parts for some time.  I reckon I know people pretty good."  The old-timer continued, "I looked into the eyes of the other riders and immediately saw there was no concern for my situation.  It would have been useless even to ask them for a ride.  But when I looked into your eyes, kindness and compassion were evident.  I knew, then and there, that your gentle spirit would welcome the opportunity to give me assistance in my time of need."

         Those heart-warming comments touched the horseman deeply.  "I'm most grateful for what you have said," he told the old man.  "May I never get too busy in my own affairs that I fail to respond to the needs of others with kindness and compassion."  With that, Thomas Jefferson turned his horse around and made his way back to the White House.

         What was it that caused Jesus to pick out those four fishermen as his disciples from the beach that sunny day in Galilee?   Was it a look in their eyes? Was it their down-to-earth integrity, their strong, simple faith?   Would Jesus ask you or I, or would he just walk on by?    

         Jesus had just returned from a grueling forty-day retreat, fasting alone in the desert. His first act was to relocate to a Galilean shore town and to choose disciples.   His ministry was not solo - he needed students to teach and to lead.  The community of faith is essential to his message and to his mission on earth.  And he needed those who whose hearts were big enough to respond with awe and compassion.  He offered Peter, Andrew, James and John a huge task: to fish for people; those who would bring others into the ark of salvation.   Their response was immediate:  Yes!  Without hesitation, they dropped their nets and followed him.  It not a hard sell; just a simple pronouncement, "Follow me!"   Off they went!  It was a gut reaction - a “hinge moment” that forged a new future.

         Sometimes we just know what we need to do.   We’ve each had times when it was immediately clear what direction to go.   A child wanders into the street and a truck is coming.   No need to think.  You run and grab the child.   A loved one has been in an accident and you get a call she is in the hospital.   Right away you leave the office and drive the 300 miles to be at her bedside.     Or you have been agonizing for weeks about whether to take a job or not; you've written down the positives and negatives; you've called all the references and talked to all your friends and family.  Then one morning you wake up and boom! it is perfectly clear.  You pick up the phone and make the call.   Decisions can come from the soul, from so deep within that our whole self responds.  They are hinge moments, decisions that change everything.

         Surprisingly, research shows that our minds are able to come to conclusions rapidly when judging someone’s character or a new situation.   For example, they say that newcomers figure out if they like a church or not in the first five minutes.  That worries me, because that is when we are doing our announcements! 

This happened to me once at a turning point in my life. It occurred in a split second in college.  For several years previously, I had planned to attend a theater-training program in New England, one that my girlfriend at the time had attended.  Several actor friends had gone, and I had been on track to sign up.   As I was sitting in the green room during rehearsal in our college theater, a good friend told me that she was planning to attend the college’s international program in Rome, Italy.  By the way, she said, this is that last day you can sign up for this.  Immediately, without a thought, I jumped up and ran as fast as I could to the college’s international study office and signed up for the program.   It all happened in a few minutes, and it caught me by surprise.  It completely up-ended my life.  From Rome I applied to Yale Divinity School, and began my journey toward becoming a Christian minister.  It felt like I had dropped my net, and ran headfirst to a more meaningful future.  It changed everything.  

What ‘hinge moments’ have you had in your life?   Have you had times when you have dropped your nets to follow something deep in your soul?  As church members we are each called as disciples, but how does that look?  How do we act when Jesus calls: “Follow me!”

One truth about accepting a call from Jesus is the willingness to drop what we are holding, as the fishermen let their nets slip from their hands.   We hold so firmly to our opinions, our judgments, and our identities.   When we are called to respond, it can be difficult to act, because we are so wedded to the stuff we are carrying, the structures we build around ourselves that lock us into our self-made prisons.   How easy would it be for any of us to have the freedom to respond as rapidly and easily as Peter and Andrew, James and John, did?   They did not only leave their professions, dropping their nets to the ground.  They also said good-bye to their father, their relatives and their homes.  

I’m not advocating running from your families and responsibilities.  But I am advocating a loosening of our inner constrictions, a letting go of what is not needed in our souls.  We can find room in our souls for joy, and breathing room in our hearts for a more spacious way of living.  Spiritually we can drop our rigid ideas and locked mind-sets, and open our spirits to the fullness and freedom of God’s presence in our daily lives and the wonder of life.    By practicing this day by day, then when we face a ‘hinge-moment’ we will be ready to respond. 

         Thomas Kelly, a modern Quaker wrote these words:   "Strained by the very mad pace of our daily outer burdens, we are further strained by an inward uneasiness, because we have hints that there is a way of life vastly richer and deeper than all this hurried existence, a life of unhurried serenity and peace and power. If only we could slip over into that Center!  If only we could find the Silence which is the source of sound!  We have seen and known some people who seem to have found this deep Center of living, where the fretful calls of life are integrated, where No as well as Yes can be said with confidence.  We've seen such lives, integrated, unworried by the tangles of close decisions, unhurried, cheery, fresh, positive.  These are not people of dallying idleness nor of obviously mooning meditation; they are busy carrying their full loads as well as we, but without any chafing of the shoulders with the burden, with quiet joy and springing step.  Surrounding the trifles of their daily life is an aura of infinite peace and power and joy.  We are so strained and tense, with our burdened lives; they are so poised and at peace."

With this way of living, we are ready to give of ourselves when the time is right.  We will be ready to help those who need us.  We will be able to listen to those who are hurting.  Our hands will be free to grab what is needed to assist those who need help.   That is how the disciples acted. 

         Let me share this example:  “Late one night on March 14, 1992, In Kishocoquillas Valley, in Central Pennsylvania, a nightmare occurred.   Sam Z., a 68 year old bishop of the Mennonite Church and his family woke up to the sound of crackling wood. They looked out to see their barn roaring in flames.   He grabbed his clothes and ran out into the yard to see smoke billowing around the barn and he heard the screams of the horses and bellowing of cows inside.  He ran to release the horses - they ran out into the yard and then in confusion ran back to the flames.  Sam herded them back, but they bolted and ran over him.   He stumbled up, bruised and battered, and ran to release the cows; but the barm exploded into a raging inferno.  He could only sit down and watch the barn roar with the cries of his cows inside.  139 cows and 38 horses were killed.

         “His barn was not the only one burned.  Whoever started Sam's fire went right up the valley, sending barn after barn up in flames; seven in all.   The next Saturday 200 men and 200 women and children came to his farm to rebuild it.  A friend had cut and milled lumber from his forest; groups of brethren had already framed the walls and laid them out.   Within 10 hours, starting at 6 and ending by 4, Sam had a new barn.   Neighbors, both Mennonite and "English", which is what they call all outsiders, worked hand in hand, hammering wooden pegs, framing, cutting, hammering; while women cooked and put out piles of mashed potatoes, fried chicken, jello, peas.   By 8:00 a.m. three walls were up; by the time the afternoon rolled around the barn was completed.  Children skipped in to the huge barn floor, while swallows darted in and out.  

People from outside the Mennonite community donated over $600,000 to repair the barns, local businesses gave supplies and food; "English" workers came to help rebuild.   But more than anything, the fact that Sam and his fellow farmers were part of a caring and committed community made the difference.   He was upheld and surrounded by his friends.  And in a time of tragedy, that is what makes all the difference.  

Discipleship – as we see with Peter, Andrew, James and John - is about responding immediately, and from the heart.  This is something the Mennonites seem to understand.  It is about hearing and responding, obeying a call from a deep place inside our souls that cries, “Follow Me.”   It is about dropping our nets, our keyboards, our cell phones, our TV remotes, and going to help. 

Discipleship is also about being part of a community of faith that sees the love of brother and sister, the faith in the love and faithfulness of God as the primary value in life.

When the Spirit of Wisdom and Light that rules the universe and whispers into the depths of our soul, will we have the freedom and faith to let go of what we are holding, and to walk in the footsteps of our savior?  Follow me, he says.    Amen.