Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Leaving Your Nets (Third Sunday after Epiphany)

Mark 1:14-20
14 Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, 15 and saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." 16 As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. 17 And Jesus said to them, "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." 18 And immediately they left their nets and followed him. 19 As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. 20 Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

             Have you ever had to just drop everything you were doing because you got a phone call or a text message? Perhaps it was your brother calling to tell you that your mother has been rushed to the hospital by ambulance, and she asked for you by name. Maybe you were at work and the school called to tell you that your son has had an accident in class, and you need to come pick him up right away. Or maybe your phone vibrated in your pocket, and there on the screen were simply the words “Help. I need you.” You left everything where it was—tools on the ground, books and papers all over your desk, milk on the counter—because you know some things are more important than the things right in front of you, and because there’s something in the back of your mind that tells you that it’ll be alright soon and everything will get back to normal in time. You’ll eventually return to the jobsite, to your office, to clean the mess you left behind in such a hurry. You may drop what you’re doing, but you’ll pick it back up again eventually.
            There are those in our world, however, who are forced to drop everything, to leave it all behind, but not because of a phone call or a text. They are forced from their homes at gunpoint. Some are driven from their countries by the threat of war and persecution. Still others are forced to leave it all behind as devastating floods wash away their homes, as droughts dry up what is left of hope, and natural disasters erase their previous existence from the landscape.
Over these past months we have heard news of Ukrainian refugees who are leaving their homes during destructive military actions and political unrest.[1] In the African country of Malawi, flood waters have displaced over 200,000 people,[2] and just two weeks ago we marked the fifth anniversary of the earthquake that struck Haiti killing thousands, leaving thousands more displaced, and still that country has yet to fully recover.[3] There are too many stories to count of those in our world who have dropped everything, left it all behind, to never see it again, to carry on into an uncertain future. Unfortunately, the stories of these refugees, of these misplaced brothers and sisters, are stories of desperation, stories that speak of those who have no other choice, those whom the ways of war and weather have forced to move. Their stories are not stories of choosing to relocate; theirs are not stories of the free decision to trek into the unknown in search of something new, something exciting.
At first glance, the story before us this morning may seem like such a narrative. Two sets of two brothers, bored with the monotonous rhythms of the fishing life out on Lake Galilee, decide to seek adventure with the wandering rabbi from Nazareth, so they leave their nets, their boats, and their father to set out on some “coming of age” adventure, from which they’ll return wiser and more adjusted to the realities of adulthood. Yes, perhaps this story seems like the telling of a quartet of men ready to leave behind the family business in order to strike out on their own…but it’s so much more than that.
I’m sure many of you here this morning have heard this story before in VBS, Sunday school, or maybe even from this very pulpit. You’ve likely heard it recounted as an exemplary tale of how we all ought to respond to the call of Jesus, how we all ought to be willing to stop what we’re doing, listen to Jesus, and follow him. While that’s a great lesson, I don’t necessarily think it’s the point of this story, at least not the whole point.
I suppose one could chalk this scene up to a necessary bit of exposition, a way to explain how Jesus got his first few followers. It seems pretty short and to-the-point: “Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me and I will make you fish for people.’” Straightaway, we’re told that “immediately they left their nets and followed him.” Nearly the same thing happens when Jesus is within earshot of John and James, the sons of Zebedee; in fact, it takes fewer words to express the interaction between Jesus and Zebedee’s boys: “Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.” No discussion among the brothers is mentioned. There’s no conversation about the consequences of following this man from Nazareth. The author of this gospel (as the author so often does) simply states the facts in order to move the narrative along: Jesus called four fishermen to follow him and they left their stuff and followed him.
Now, hang on a minute…before we get too swept up in where this story is going, let’s take a minute to really think about what just happened. While those of us reading this story some twenty centuries later may know where this is all going, Andrew, Peter, James, and John had no way of knowing what they were signing up for, but they definitely knew what they were leaving behind. You see, while Mark’s gospel may be short on intricate details and plot points, the details it does give us are ones worth our attention. In verse 16, the gospel tells us that Jesus passed by Simon and Andrew casting their nets into the sea “for they were fishermen.” Perhaps that seems pretty obvious, but the intention here is to point out that these men are not simply out on the water on their day off—these are professionals, men whose job it was to haul the catch from the water, to the boat, to the market. In fact, all four of these men are professional fishermen, and they are all presumably part of their respective families’ businesses. They are providers for their families, their communities, but when Jesus comes along proclaiming, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news,” they take him at his word, answer his call, and leave everything there on the shore to follow him.
For so long, the immediate response of these four has been held up as the example for how to respond when Christ calls—and it should be! But I’m afraid we’ve missed something; I’m afraid we’ve watered down the response of these four men to an example of immediate response and nothing more. That is to say, it seems to me we’ve held this story up as proof that conversion (or to use a better word, discipleship) is something that happens immediately and internally. We’ve based that all on the immediate response of these fishermen to Christ’s call, while we’ve all but ignored the call of Christ itself, and in doing so, have missed the real point of these men’s obedience.
In verse 15 we hear of Jesus proclaiming the good news in Galilee saying, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news." His message builds upon the message of John the Baptist’s message of repentance. Then, when Jesus comes upon the fishermen, his message is simple: "Follow me and I will make you fish for people." It is at this request, this call, that these men leave their nets, their father, the hired men…hear that again, they leave their nets, their families, and their employees. In a very real sense, they leave their security in an instant to follow Jesus. This isn’t simply “asking Jesus into their hearts.” This isn’t a just cognitive acceptance of the divinity of Jesus. This isn’t four men simply agreeing that their collective theological assumptions about salvation are correct. This is four men actively, physically, leaving behind what they know to be secure, comfortable, and their societal obligations in order to follow Jesus. And here’s the thing…they can’t possibly know where that will take them! Sure, we know all about the sermon on the mount, the feeding of the five thousand, the healing the blind, the bringing Lazarus back from the dead, the cross, the tomb, the resurrection…but these four men have no way of knowing what’s in store for them. Yet they actively choose to follow Jesus as he calls them.
That’s the other thing: When Jesus calls them, he doesn’t call them to simply tag along and watch. No, he says, “I will make you fish for people.” The call of Christ is not simply a call to private, individual salvation—it is a call to a public, active vocation![4] When Jesus calls us, it is not simply so that we can rest assured that our souls may rejoice in the comfort of knowing we’ll go to heaven when we die. When Jesus call us, it is a call to actively leave behind more of who we are so that we may take hold of more of Christ, that we may actively set out into the world—not simply to decry its sinfulness and point out its shortcomings, but—to change it for the better! It is a call to actively draw others into the net of God’s all-sufficient love. It is a call that comes in a moment, but requires a lifetime of commitment, obedience, and trust.[5] It is a calling that beckons us to follow Jesus to places we haven’t been, into situations we have yet to experience, to those we have yet to meet. It is a call that come ringing with hope, joy, and love, but it is also a call that comes with the risks of bold action, the risks of following one who loves the unlovable, cares for the forgotten, the one who, though he is God, poured himself out into the world and got his hands dirty washing feet and playing with children.
 We know there are risks in following such a savior, for the very first words of the text before us this morning color the rest of the passage with its subtle shade: “Now after John was arrested…” John the Baptizer knew the risks of following this Jesus. He knew the risks of proclaiming repentance to those who believed they were already in the right. He knew the risks of calling to action those whose inaction and apathy had made them comfortable. He came to learn that following Jesus isn’t always the easy choice. These fishermen would come to learn that lesson as well, as have so many others through the centuries who have taken up the call of Christ, those who have put their faith to action by living their lives in very real ways for the gospel, those who left their nets. They learned those lessons, but most of all they learned that living a life in obedience to the call of Christ is the ultimate source of joy, for it is a call to actively be loved by God, to love God, and to draw others into that love.
Jesus is calling each of us today. He’s calling us to be “fishers of people,” to leave our nets on the shore, to leave behind what we know to be safe and comfortable in order to follow him. That means leaving behind our fears of what we don’t understand. That means getting up from the sidelines and getting in the game. That means actually actively getting involved, rather than sitting back and pointing out what you see as shortcomings. The call of Christ is to be more than an observer, more than a critic, more than a passive participant in the ways of this world—it is a call to do something!
May you be fishers of people. May you be one who leaves your nets on the shore. May you be one who takes the risks of following Jesus into the unknown. May you get up, off the sidelines, and into the game. May you trade in your critiques for actions, your observation for engagement, your stillness for movement, your indifference for love. May you hear the voice of Jesus calling you to come and follow, and may you live each moment from this one forward in obedience to that call. Amen.




[1]You can read more from the UN Refugee Agency about Ukraine here: http://www.unhcr.org/54c22c589.html
[3]Having seen the recovery effort in Haiti firsthand, I can say the earthquake there was devastating. You can read more about it here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/2010_Haiti_earthquake
[4]Lee Barret, “Third Sunday after Epiphany, Mark 1:14-20: Theological Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1. Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY (2008), p. 288.
[5]Elton W. Brown, “Third Sunday after Epiphany, Mark 1:14-20: Pastoral Perspective,” Feasting on the Word: Year B, Volume 1. Westminster John Knox Press: Louisville, KY (2008), p. 286.

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