I must confess, the story of Jesus calling the first disciples has always puzzled me. Perhaps this is because I’ve seen it in one too many Jesus movies, the ones from the ’70s where Jesus resembles Barry Gibb from the Bee Gees, out for a lovely afternoon stroll by the water, the wind blowing through his robes and his Barry Gibb hair. He calls out to a few fishermen, saying, “Follow me,” and the men look at each other, and then simply drop their nets, and stumble out of their boats toward Jesus, rushing along the shore trying to keep up with him. It seems a bit silly, to be honest, as though the fishermen were in a spontaneous mood, or were just too dull to know any better. One does not simply walk off the job site, especially if it means leaving your father behind to finish up the work.

There was surely something deeper going on—like a pattern hidden inside a cluster of dots that can only be seen once the dots are connected. In the Gospel story, the fishermen didn’t leave their nets to follow Jesus for an afternoon stroll by the water; they left their nets behind for good, and started off on a way of life that they didn’t fully understand. Their choice to do so was costly. It’s hard to believe they actually made it. What kind of person would Jesus have to be to make this story believable? Who is this Jesus who calls out to these ordinary people and invites them to follow?

Even in church, it can be easy to forget that the basic task of the Christian life is learning how to follow Jesus. Church is the place where we can come together and ask ourselves, “What does it look like to follow Jesus together?” “What does it look like to follow Jesus amidst hard relationships?” “What does it look like to follow Jesus at work, among our co-workers?” “How do we show our children how to follow Jesus?” These are wonderful questions, but rarely do we ask them. Instead, we find ourselves asking about whether the boiler needs to be replaced, or if it’s time to update our financial policies, or how do we keep the children from running amok throughout the church? Don’t get me wrong—boiler repair, financial policy, and children’s safety are worthy and necessary topics for our attention. But if our attention to those questions causes us to lose sight of the essential ones, then we won’t hear the person calling to us from the shore, saying, “Follow me.”

Today is the 174th Annual Meeting of St. Paul’s Church, and the question at hand today is the same question that was before the very first meeting in 1846: how did St. Paul’s answer the call of Jesus Christ in the past year? Where were we in our journey last January, and where are we now? This isn’t an easy, straight-forward question. Some moments of faithfulness are wide open and visible, while others are known to only a few, or remain hidden.

Numbers do not tell a decisive story, but they tell us something. It’s worth noting that, in 2019, St. Paul’s welcomed 41 new people from 17 households as new members of our church. At a time when many Episcopal churches are anxious about decline, St. Paul’s is experiencing a period of growth. Not growth by leaps and bounds, mind you, but a slow and steady increase of people in our pews. The average Sunday attendance for 2019 was 136, up from 130 the year before. This growth is reflected in the various ministries that support our worship, which have grown as the size of our congregation has grown. And since last October, we have been offering a monthly Sunday evening service—Second Sunday @ St. Paul’s—further contributing to the growth that we have seen.

Another way to tell the story of the last year is by focusing on Christian formation for all ages: children, youth, and adults. Last winter, St. Paul’s again held a weekly Wednesday night Lenten series—the “Soup & Speaker Series”—on how to reimagine the word salvation, and hear it in a fuller sense—salvation meaning not only souls being saved for hereafter, but also bodies being restored in the here-and-now. In the past year, adult formation happened through our lay-led Sunday Bible study, as we strive to cultivate the practice of reading and meditating on God’s holy Word. And more recently, we initiated a confirmation preparation class for adults as well as youth, deepening our knowledge and practice of the Anglican way being Christian, in advance of the Bishop’s visit later this spring. Additionally, our children’s formation program continued on Sunday mornings and through another successful Vacation Bible School week in June. We know that there is still plenty of work to do as we increase our investment in ministry to the children and youth of our church, but we have taken decisive steps in this direction, not least through the recent addition of our new Youth & Family Ministry Coordinator to our staff, who will take the lead on building a culture of collaborative parish-wide ministry to children and youth. This year, as with the last, our focus on Christian formation for all ages will be paramount.

Outreach and service to the community is yet another way to tell the story of the last year. So many ministries fall under the rubric of “Outreach” that it’s often hard to keep track of them all. These ministries involve donating food, preparing meals, donating grocery gift cards, buying school supplies, and knitting prayer shawls. Outreach also involves raising and giving away money to those in need—through the scholarship program to the students at St. Mary’s in Sololá, Guatemala, our sister parish, and especially through the Bucks County Housing Group, where half of the Christmas in Doylestown proceeds are donated. All of these outreach efforts, which minister to children and adults, to locals and Philadelphians and Guatemalans, to the homeless and hungry and women fleeing domestic violence—these are the ways that we have sought to follow Jesus. After all, Jesus says that he is present in their midst.

A further way to tell the story of the last year would be to note the many improvements to the property and grounds of St. Paul’s. As I’ve said, some things are open and obvious, while others remain hidden. The obvious story from the last year is the “Raise the Roof” campaign, in which you, the people of St. Paul’s, gave generous donations to the church in order to repair and refurbish our large tin roof, which is almost as old as the church itself. This work took place during the summer, and more than just repairing the roof, it has revived it and made it beautiful again. And while I firmly believe that buildings exist for the sake of congregations (and not the other way around), it’s also true that church must happen somewhere. For St. Paul’s Church, that somewhere is here, on this holy ground, in this sacred place. We need a place to start, if we are to learn to follow Jesus. For us that starting place is right here, where we gather to worship Jesus Christ before following him out onto the road. St. Paul’s Church is the place where our journey in Christ begins, and continues.

There are so many stories from the last year that testify to a journey of faithful Christian discipleship taking place at St. Paul’s. To tell them all would require a whole library. Faithfully answering the call to follow Jesus is not an easy thing to measure—how can we say for sure that we’ve done it? Well, we can’t. Because when we follow Jesus, we quickly learn that he never stops moving. Being a disciple isn’t a status we achieve; it’s a way of life that we must practice. It must be practiced over and over and over again. We don’t practice it alone, but together as the church. As St. Paul’s Church. Because when we hear the call, we can’t not step out of the boat and follow.

“Immediately the disciples left their nets and followed him.”

Because they saw that his way of life was the only way worth living. Let us go and do likewise—following Jesus in this next year, and in every year. Amen.

January 26, 2020