for the 5th Sunday after Epiphany
David Sellnow
Christ calls us to reach out to others, even when it seems an impossible task
If you are a church member, you recently became part of a minority in America. For the first time, the percentage of Americans who belong to a church or synagogue or mosque fell below 50%. When Gallup did its first poll about church membership in 1937, 73% of Americans said they belonged to a church. That number remained consistently around 70% up to 1999. Since then, the numbers have dropped precipitously, down to 60% by 2010, down to 47% as of 2020. (1) Meanwhile, the percentage of Americans who do not identify with any religion has grown from 8% in 2000 to 13% in 2010 to 21% by 2020. In the United States overall, persons who attend church regularly represent 24% of the population, compared to 29% who never attend religious services at all. (2)
In broader terms, you’re not a minority yet, but your majority status is shrinking. Apart from church membership or attendance, how do people see themselves? Fifteen years ago, for every person in this country saying they were non-religious, there were five persons who professed to be Christians. Today, for each non-religious person, there are maybe two Christians as their neighbors in the community. (3)

Jacopo Bassano, The Miraculous Draught of Fishes, National Gallery of Art, via Wikimedia Commons
I hope such news doesn’t make you uncomfortable. I hope, rather, that it makes you feel like going fishing. I don’t mean giving up on your religious life and spending all your time at the lake. Quite the opposite—I mean that we devote ourselves to living the faith in the way Jesus called us to be “fishers” of men and women. We learn something about our calling from way Jesus called his first disciples–fishermen by trade–to come follow him (cf. Luke 5:1-11). After a long night out on the lake, catching nothing, Jesus told Simon Peter and his colleagues to go out again and let down their nets–in deep water and in broad daylight. This was not how Galilean fishermen approached their work. They used trammel nets near the surface. In deep water, the fish would typically not be within their reach. (4) Also, until the introduction of transparent nylon nets in the 20th century, “trammel net fishing was done only at night. In the daytime, the fish could see the nets and avoid them.” (5)
So, when the fishing partners caught so many fish that their nets began to break (Luke 5:6), with loads of fish so heavy they barely could keep their boats afloat, this clearly was a miracle of Jesus’ doing. It also was an object lesson in what “fishing” is like for us in a spiritual sense. Fishing isn’t easy. It takes great patience and persistence. Sometimes you can fish and fish and fish and catch nothing. Sometimes the fish just aren’t biting, no matter what lure or bait or method you’re using. Bringing others into the family of Jesus is like that. You can do outreach effort after outreach effort, and nobody seems to respond. You try every traditional method you know to do ministry and evangelism, but people from the community aren’t interested. On that day at Lake Gennesaret, it took a miracle by Jesus to bring fish into the nets of Peter and the other fishermen. On any day that we seek to bring a person’s soul into the arms of our Savior, it takes a miracle of God’s Spirit to make that change happen. After all, “no one can say, ‘Jesus is Lord,’ except by the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:3).
Perhaps many decades of cultural dominance by Christianity in America have made us think ministry should be easy. Historically and globally, that has not been the usual situation for witnesses of the gospel. In the present day, the world watch list details the fifty countries around the world where being a Christian is the most difficult and dangerous. Relatively speaking, here in the United States, while things are changing for us, we still have a much easier path for faith and ministry. Back in the first years of the Christian mission, times were enormously challenging. Persecution and opposition were common. For the most part, the apostles died as martyrs for the faith. (6) The early Christians had no church buildings or public presence. They met together in each other’s homes. They met wherever they could meet, sometimes in secret. They encouraged each other, but they were going against the flow of the society around them.
It was during those same years, though, that the Christian faith grew exponentially. One prominent sociologist has estimated that during the 300 years following Jesus’ death and resurrection, the number of Christians increased by about 40% per decade–continuing at that rate decade after decade until the Christian church came to be dominant in the Mediterranean world. (7) What enabled the early Christians to have such a steady, growing influence on the people around them, so that people wanted to know more about them and more and more people began to join with them?
One thing those early Christians had was a powerful story that they shared, “a better story than their neighbors. … Christians told their neighbors a story about a big God who was deeply good and who loved human beings … who out of love for humanity, stepped down into humanity to lift human beings up to himself.” (8) That story transforms the way we live our lives. Let me share an example. Some years ago, there was a woman in my congregation in Texas, just a regular person, someone like you. At her workplace, there was another woman, a single mom, who was struggling to get through the day most days. The women frequently took breaks and lunchtime together and talked about life. One day, the younger woman said to her older friend, “How do you do it? You seem to have such a sense of calm about you. Somehow you always are pleasant, even when I keep dumping my problems on you because I’m so tired and stressed and frustrated. What’s your secret? Where do you get your strength?”

Image via depositphotos.com
“Oh, dear,” her friend replied, “I don’t feel like I’m all that well put together. I have plenty of days when I’m frazzled and at my wits end. But the thing that gets me through is faith. I just keep hanging onto Jesus, because I know that when I am weak, he is strong. I go to church to get strengthened, because I need the comfort and forgiveness and encouragement I get there.”
The two hadn’t talked about faith before, but they began to talk about faith and the gospel quite a bit from that day on. That’s how relationships of faith begin. You have the same strength of faith at work in your hearts and lives, the power that God “put to work in Christ when he raised him from the dead” (Ephesians 1:19,20). Our lives have been resurrected with Christ–already now in the hope that we have, and knowing that through the resurrection that is to come, “we will be with the Lord forever” (1 Thessalonians 4:17,18). So we encourage one another with these words, and we can encourage our friends and neighbors too.
When the early church was constantly growing and influencing people, “people were drawn into Christianity because of an experience of the resurrected Jesus.” (9) The knowledge and confidence and joy of the resurrection radiated in people’s lives. Remember why it was that Christians chose Sunday as their day for gathering to commune together. If anyone ever asks you, “Why do you go to church on Sundays?” you have a powerful answer. Every Sunday is a reminder that Jesus came back from the dead, alive again. That miraculous truth is the center of our hope as Christians. We “know Christ and the power of his resurrection” (Philippians 3:10). “Christ died for our sins in accordance with the scriptures, he was buried, and he was raised on the third day” (1 Corinthians 15:3,4). That truth is of primary importance, for if Christ did not rise from death, our faith would be futile and meaningless (cf. 1 Corinthians 15:17). “But in fact, Christ has been raised from the dead. … God gives us victory through our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Corinthians 15:20, 57). So, as believers of that truth, we can be “steadfast, immovable, always excelling in the work of the Lord,” because we know that in the Lord our labor is not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).
You may feel like laboring for the Lord is too much for you, like the call to be an evangelist is too hard a thing to do. You’re in good company if you feel that way. Every faithful servant called to go and speak for God has had similar misgivings. Moses said, “O my Lord, I have never been eloquent … I am slow of speech and slow of tongue” (Exodus 4:10). When Isaiah was called, he said, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:6). When Jesus filled Peter’s nets, preparing to send him as someone who would fish for people, Peter said, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” (Luke 5:8). When Paul was called by Jesus, he was stunned and for three days didn’t eat or drink anything (Acts 9:9). So if you don’t feel up to the task, that’s understandable. But remember what God showed Isaiah. His mercy had touched Isaiah’s lips. All Isaiah’s guilt was gone, all sins and shortcomings forgiven (Isaiah 6:7). Paul felt that he was unfit to be called an apostle, because he previously had persecuted the church of God. “But by the grace of God I am what I am,” Paul said. He realized that God’s grace toward him was given to him for a reason (1 Corinthians 15:9,10). God’s grace has been given to you for a reason too. Each of you has a story to tell. You have a message to share.
Maybe, though, you feel like your opportunities to reach out are limited. Around the region where I live, there are many rural churches facing declining numbers in both congregation and in community. When we think of our congregations in rural America, the weaknesses and challenges tend to be the only things we see. But one ministry advisor has focused on a key strength of small congregations in small communities. ““People in rural churches share common experiences,” he said. “That’s certainly a strength of these churches. [They understand that] people are more important than programs. … Relationships are key. Everything in a small church, a rural church, revolves around relationships.” (10) I might add that relationships are key for all Christian congregations, in urban and suburban settings too.
Perhaps in the past we’ve had the mindset about our churches that if we have a building, they will come. If we have church services, they will come. If we have programs and activities, they will come. But that’s not generally true. The mission of the church is not to figure out what strategies to use to get people to come. Rather, our mission is to see what opportunities exist for us to go into all the world and speak the good news to every person (Mark 16:15). That doesn’t mean buttonholing everyone you meet and saying, “Are you saved? If you were to die tonight, where would you be?” Conversations don’t start that way. Relationships built on trust don’t start that way. The strength of your witness for Jesus is in how you relate to others, human person to human person–like the story I shared about the woman and her work friend in Texas. It’s about how you extend hope and healing and heartfelt caring to people in daily life. The first followers of Jesus “initiated the largest movement in the history of the world, and they did it without an invite card.” (11) They didn’t even have church buildings to invite people to. You can share the faith simply by a willingness to live in faith and talk about your faith.
So, keep fishing. Keep putting your nets out in the water in the community around you. Drop a line to someone you know who needs good news. Christ calls us to reach out to others, even when it seems an impossible task. Jesus also promises to work miracles of his Spirit as we do what he calls us to do, just as he demonstrated that he could bring all sorts of fish into the boats that day on the Sea of Galilee. Keep fishing, my friends … knowing that when Jesus told us to go and make disciples of all nations, in the very next breath he said, “And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20). He is with you, and you will be his witnesses (Acts 1:8).
(1) Jeffrey Jones, “U.S. Church Membership Falls Below Majority for First Time,” Gallup, March 29, 2021.
(2) Church Attendance of Americans 2020,” Statista, January 15, 2021.
(3) Gregory A. Smith, “About Three-in-Ten U.S. Adults Are Now Religiously Unaffiliated,” Pew Research Center, December 14, 2021.
(4) Cf. “Fishers of Fish,” by Gary M. Burge, Christian History Institute.
(5) David Bivin, “Miracle on the Sea of Galilee,” En Gedi Resource Center, June 14, 2019.
(6) Cf. Ken Curtis, PhD., “Whatever Happened to the Twelve Apostles,” Christianity.com, April 28, 2010.
(7) Cf. The Rise of Christianity: A Sociologist Reconsiders History, by Rodney Stark, PhD, Princeton University Press, 1996. Review available in the American Journal of Sociology, January 1997.
(8) Cabe Matthews, “Evangelism in the Early Church and Today,” Firebrand, October 21, 2021.
(9) Cabe Matthews, “Evangelism in the Early Church and Today,” Firebrand, October 21, 2021.
(10) Dennis Bickers, quoted in “Rural Churches Struggle as Resources Flow to Urban Churches,” by Brian Kaylor, Center for Congregational Health, HealthyChurch.org.
(11) Preston Ulmer, “Stop Inviting People to Church,” Relevant, August 5, 2021.
Scripture quotations, except where otherwise indicated, are from the New Revised Standard Version Bible, copyright © 1989 National Council of the Churches of Christ in the United States of America. Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.

Since Jesus is with us every day, we can stop fearing the future. We tend to worry enormously about the future—which also is because of sin. If there were no sin, we wouldn’t worry about tomorrow. We’d know tomorrow would be good because all days were good. In a world without sin, there would be no worry. But sin is in our world and in us. That means tomorrow is never sure. We don’t know what mess might fall on our heads. We don’t know what messes we might make for ourselves. We don’t know what messes and misery others will inflict by their sins against us and around us. But we do know this for sure: Jesus will be there tomorrow, with us, just as he has been yesterday and today. That’s our constant, confident hope. The psalmist says, “Israel, hope in Yahweh, for there is loving-kindness with Yahweh. Abundant redemption is with him” (Psalm 130:7). The Lord’s loving-kindness is unflinching, unfailing, rock-solid. The Lord’s redemption is abundant, abiding, all-encompassing. God’s grace to us is something that never changes, never quits, never dies. He has redeemed us fully, completely. He bought us back from the evil of the world and the sin within ourselves. Full redemption, nothing left out—that’s what our Lord God gives to us. His love, his redemption, is an ironclad promise.
Those could be just human actions of kindness, yes. In many cases, though, they are far more than that. They are the acts of God’s people making God’s love known in the ordinary course of events, doing things that are, in fact, extraordinary. God is working to make himself known to others through you–ordinary people in your everyday lives. Nothing spectacular. Nothing dazzling. Just you laboring patiently to serve your family, your neighbors, your community. Just you loving earnestly and committedly, caring for others with hearts that have been invigorated by the Spirit of Christ. That’s your calling as God’s people. God says to each of you, “I have redeemed you; I have called you by name, you are mine. … You are precious in my sight, and honored, and I love you” (Isaiah 43:1,4). He also says, “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you. For I am the Lord your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior” (Isaiah 43:2). How does that help, that strength, that rescue from the Lord usually show up in your lives when you are hurting or in trouble? Through the actions of people doing simple things, basic, necessary things, in God’s name. The neighbor who shovels your sidewalk or snowblows your driveway–because he knows you are away from home, caring for a sick relative. Fellow church members who take turns dropping off meals at your home–because you are the caregiver for a disabled family member or for your spouse who is going through chemotherapy, and they want to help bear your burdens. Complete strangers who contribute to an online plea for funds to help with extensive medical bills incurred from a major surgery or a lengthy stay in the hospital ICU recovering from disease.
Every now and then, God has intervened in history with supernatural interruptions of natural events. But more often, God does his work through us, his people, in less astonishing ways. Let me remind you again of the experience of God’s prophet Elijah. Elijah had the experience of God making his presence obvious and forceful and explosive. Elijah prevailed over the enemies of God by calling on God to do a miracle, to consume a sacrifice with fire sent from heaven. And God did so, spectacularly. “The fire of the Lord fell and consumed the burnt offering, the wood, the stones, and the dust, and even licked up the water that was in the trench” around Elijah’s offering (1 Kings 18:38). But the perspective of the world doesn’t readily change when a miracle like that happens. In fact, the enemies of God (and of Elijah) only got more determined against God’s plans and against God’s prophet. Death threats were issued from the royal household against Elijah, and he ran. He ran back to the mountain where God had once revealed himself to Moses, and felt ready to die. “I’ve had enough,” he said to God. “Take away my life” (1 Kings 19:4). Instead, God told him to get up and he would reveal himself to Elijah. God did show himself, but not in expected ways. Not in a mighty, raging wind. Not in a rock-smashing earthquake. God revealed himself In a still, small voice, in the “sound of sheer silence” (I kings 19).
That is what we see at God’s coming at Christmas. The glory of God came to us, but came in the humble form of Jesus in the manger. As John the apostle said, the Son of God came to us from the Father “full of grace and truth.” As the writer to the Hebrews said, “The Son (Jesus) is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being” (Hebrews 1:3). Jesus is “God with us,” namely “Immanuel” in Hebrew (Isaiah 7:14, cf. also Matthew 1:23). God became incarnate in Jesus to be our Savior in grace.
And we wait patiently … or at least try to be patient. We are, by nature, impatient people. We tend to want what we want and we want it now. If the package we ordered doesn’t arrive in a couple of days, we get irritated. If the trip to the store takes up too much time with too long of lines, we get irritated. If something we want for ourselves, for our house, for our farm or business, or for our church is not available to us right now or is out of reach of our budget or unrealistic in our present situation, we get irritated. We are impatient.
Many small and medium-size churches today are facing significant challenges as they seek to carry out ministry. A national survey of churches conducted just prior to COVID-19 lockdowns in 2020 found that “half of the country’s estimated 350,000 religious congregations had 65 or fewer people in attendance on any given weekend … a drop of more than half from a median attendance level of 137 people in 2000” (
In directing us to the comfort that is ours in the face of death, Christ’s apostle refers three times who have died as being asleep. The death of a Christian truly can be called a sleep, because the person is awaiting a glorious awakening. The awakening will take place in the resurrection of the body on the last day, an awakening to eternal life made certain for God’s people by the resurrection of Jesus from the grave. As Paul reminded us, “For if we believe that Jesus died and rose again, even so God will bring with him those who have fallen asleep in Jesus” (v.14).
Lord, keep us steadfast in faith and grant us at last a blessed death and a joyous awakening in our eternal home. Amen.
An esteemed faith father worthy of remembrance is Martin Luther. Like other heroes of faith, Luther had his flaws. We don’t idolize him. We do give attention to the best of his hopes and thoughts and actions. October 31st commemorates the day in 1517 that Luther posted
I visited Portland, Oregon in mid-summer. The weather was pleasant while we were there, with daytime highs in the mid-70s, a bit below their normal average for the time of year. Prior to our visit, however, Portland had endured a record-setting heatwave with temperatures as high as 117 degrees, and thermometers climbed back into the 90s and above 100 degrees soon after our trip. During the heat of late June, the Oregon Medical Examiner’s office
Our days on this planet are not permanent. We are called to see ourselves as “strangers and foreigners on the earth” who are “seeking a homeland … a better country, that is, a heavenly one” (Hebrews 11:13-16). We are also called to live in community with one another as we sojourn here. In the eyes of God, an acceptable “fast” (reducing our own consumption) is “to loose the bonds of injustice … to let the oppressed go free … to share your bread with the hungry and bring the homeless poor into your house; when you see the naked, to cover them, and not to hide yourself from your own kin” (Isaiah 58:6,7).
It’s been two weeks since the Labor Day holiday. How have your labors been since then? After every weekend or holiday, do you feel like it’s back to the daily grind? Work can have a tendency to grind us down and wear us out. That’s somewhat the way of this world ever since the world became an imperfect place. The Lord forewarned us that working for a living would be toilsome, full of thorns and thistles. It takes sweat and effort to put bread on the table and to keep a roof over our heads (cf. Genesis 3:17-19). 
