By Hook or By Net

Mark 1:16-20
January 14, 2024
Epiphany 2
William G. Carter

Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.”

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. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets. Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.

 

This is recruiting season for a lot of colleges. Some of our high school graduates are signing up for the schools that they will attend next fall. If your family has ever been part of that process, you know there is some negotiating that goes on. How much do they want you? What kind of scholarship money are they going to offer? How many A.P. credits can you take with you? What else will sweeten the deal? 

I have a friend in Georgia. Her son just decided to sign on to play football at a small college in South Carolina. They are knocking down tuition by $25,000 a year. And they gave him a free t-shirt. I think he should have held out for a coffee mug too, but he seemed happy with the deal.

This is also a recruiting season for a lot of churches. Not merely for members – a congregation like ours is always looking for members - but for leaders. Once we get through Christmas, our Nominating Team begins its search for elders and deacons. I will not admit to any kinds of deals that they will offer, although we do give away free cups of coffee. No mugs, but coffee. And the search begins today. The team will find the best leaders they can find.

When we hear the familiar Gospel story of Jesus selecting the first members of his team, we tend to classify it as that kind of experience. That he’s going along the north shore of the Sea of Galilee on a recruiting tour. He is looking for his disciples. He starts with Simon and Andres, then James and John, and says, “Come and follow me.” Then with a delightful little word play, he says to the fishermen, “From now on, you will be fishing for people.” In his breathless fashion, Mark says they dropped everything. Immediately they followed him.

Most of us wonder why there isn’t more to the story. They dropped everything? Went immediately? Didn’t they ask where he was headed? What he was going to do? Was this a career change or just a temporary modification? Were they traveling far? Could they return to sleep in their own beds, at least some of the time? A couple of paragraphs later, we learn Simon had a mother-in-law, so he must have had a wife. Could he bring her along? What if they had kids? None of these questions are ever answered.

Along the way, I recall a couple of teachers who attempted to fill in the gaps. One of them said, “It was the sound of his voice. When Jesus made his offer, all four of them knew this was too good a situation to pass up. Of course, they left immediately.” Even James and John left old man Zebedee to finish counting the fish and mending the nets.”

Another teacher told us, “It was the twinkle in his eye. Jesus was full of light, life, and joy. They responded as any of us would. Wouldn’t you?” Well, we would like to think so. Except Mark tells us none of this. Jesus doesn’t say anything about the benefits of following him, heavenly or otherwise. He never sweetens the deal because he never makes a deal. And it is too early in the story for him to warn those four of potential dangers. “Follow me,” he says. And they go.

We can speculate about this all we want, but Mark has already told us what he wants us to know. It was in the account from last week. God ripped open the sky. The protective dome above our heads has been breached. The Spirit came down and landed on Jesus. He began to preach, “Time is up. It’s time for God rule over everything. Stop what you were doing and make the change.”

We can’t overestimate the significance of what this means. God has come. God is here. That closed system of “same old, same old” has been invaded by holiness. If illness is sweeping like a pestilence across the land, God doesn’t want that. Jesus will heal, not by waving his hands with some blanket magic spell, but by taking folks seriously one at a time. It is long work, hard work, important work. And it breaks the news that God is here.

Or those who talk in tight circles, surrounding themselves with people who agree with them, never challenged to look deeper or love wider, Jesus comes preaching a God who is not confined to our opinions. God didn’t stay up in heaven, where it was safe for him and boring for us. God came down.

“Think of it this way,” he said. “God’s dominion is like a little bitty seed. It grows mysteriously. Somehow he becomes the biggest of all the bushes.” (He doesn’t say oak trees, but scrub bushes.) And I’ll bet he was smiling at Simon, Andrew, James, and John when he said it. His words blew open all expectations, because his words didn’t originate from the north shore of the Sea of Galilee. They came down low from somewhere a good bit higher.

It's a new day, he said. The rightful Ruler is back in charge. The world will be reminded that it is cherished. Hard-working fishermen are God’s Beloved. The poor are God’s royalty. It’s time to say it. It’s time to show it. “Come, follow me.”

From what I can tell, this was the plot of God’s Gospel. Mark does not say much more. He shows us. In chapter one, Jesus is off like a rocket. Going here, going there, hardly taking a breath or stopping for a sandwich. There is work to do. There are words to speak. And if you want to see who he is, if you want to learn what God cares about, get in step, and follow wherever he goes.

It is striking how direct all of this is. Over the years, the church has tried to reduce the Gospel to a sales plan. Three easy steps to salvation, four spiritual laws, a sinner’s prayer to mimic, and then the Circus Tent where the traveling evangelist makes the pitch. There’s none of this in the Gospel of Mark; Jesus is too busy. He’s too busy loving and healing and feeding and confronting and forgiving, to say nothing of shouting at terrible wind storms to knock it off.

Instead of reducing the kingdom of God to a marketing plan with carrot-on-the-stick benefits, the world would be better off if we would go with Jesus where he goes, join him in doing what he does, and learn to care about the people and situations that he cares about. Because that is his demand – Follow me! It is not an invitation. It’s a requirement.

I used to think it was an invitation. Soft music, hum all eighty-five verses of “Just As I Am,” the buses will wait, counselors are standing by, please welcome Jesus into your heart. Then I read the text again: Follow me! He is yelling, not pleading. He’s insisting, not suggesting. This is the Gospel of Mark. Jesus never whispers in the Gospel of Mark. He lays out the moment and requires a decision on where he has taken you and what he has shown you.

And it is all rooted in that vision from the day of his baptism: the heavens are torn; God comes upon Jesus and all that is beloved of heaven. Time to recognize that God rules over all. Not sometime later, but today. Not back in the golden days, but mysteriously right here, right now. There is no need to put it off until another day. Right now.

The signs are all around us. There is a man I know, an hour from here. This may be his last day on the planet. A few months ago, when they told him it was stage four cancer, he was quiet for a little while. Then he said, “Let’s take it on.” They did, but the illness progressed. So, he was quiet again, then decided to sell his truck and give the money to his grandchildren toward their college debts.

His family gathered again and again, and every time they came, he told them he loved them. They asked, “Daddy, is there anything we can do for you?” He said, “Take me to church on Christmas Eve. I want to praise our savior before I meet him.” And they did. Why wait? Even in his last days, he is following Jesus. Testifying to something that the powers of death cannot take away.

Or there’s that young student. She’s really something. Raised in privilege, good grades, good looks, never challenged to stretch far because everything came easily. Then she went with friends to join a high school club, only to discover that her neighborhood had strangers, and the next town over was taking in refugees from a far-off land. At the time, she heard some horrific comments on television about immigrants. It did not jibe with her experience. Something didn’t seem right.

She dug in, met more of the strangers, befriended them, stood up for them, ate with them. While in high school, she asked her church if she could invite over a hundred or so new friends from Africa for a Thanksgiving feast. And why not? Her career ambition: to become an immigration attorney to advocate for the newcomers who have no other home. All because she heard some hate speech and decided, “This isn’t right.” And God got through to her.

If we start following Jesus, there is no assurance it will be easy. Or that everything will unfold according to our plans. Or even that the way will be clear. Many times, it isn’t. Yet the one promise Jesus makes is that we will be changed. “Follow me,” he says, “and I will make you fish for people.” Note: he is not asking our permission. He’s not saying, “If you follow, I’ll put fish in your net, and you can sell them and make a lot of money.” Rather, he declares we will be transformed, specifically for the sake of other people.

That is the centrifugal power of the Gospel. Jesus is in the Center. As we orbit around him, we are compelled outward toward others. The Christian communities that flourish are those that keep Jesus in the center and extend themselves to others outside. Those that dwindle often are concerned only with themselves – bake sales to keep the lights on, chains across the parking lot to keep the teenagers out, and somebody barking, “Hey, you’re sitting in my pew.” No, no, no – it is about others. It’s always about others. This is one of the fundamental changes that comes by following Jesus. He was always focused on others, which is why God sent him to us.

“Follow me,” he says, “and I will make you fish for other people.” With this declaration, the mission is underway. As far as anybody can tell, it is not over. It’s never over. This sermon is hereby over, yet the mission of God goes on.

 

(c) William G. Carter. All rights reserved.