A Commanding Call

In last Sunday’s sermon we looked at what I termed the “unexpected” call. Jesus calls us to be disciples in all manner of quiet and unexpected ways. We need to be alert to that call and then, as last week’s text said, “come and see.” Today’s text from Mark’s Gospel says the same thing but from a different viewpoint. In this well-known passage, Jesus invites Simon Peter, Andrew, James, and John to be his disciples, to leave their fishing business, and to become, as the old King James Version puts it, “fishers of men.”

I am not quite to the point in life when I can’t remember what I had for breakfast but have perfect recall of something 50 years ago. (Hmm, what did I have for breakfast?) But for some strange reason I do remember being taught in Sunday school about being fishers of men and that does go back almost 50 years. My Sunday school teacher said that if we really loved Jesus we would be fishers of men just like Simon Peter and the others.

When you think about that image, it does seem a little strange. Do we really want to think that being disciples of Jesus means snaring people in a net or on a hook?[1] Not a very positive image when you think about it. But even if Jesus was just talking to fishermen in images they could relate to, the point my Sunday school teacher made was that we need to have faith like the first disciples. But now as I study the text I think it is less about our faith and more about the authority of Jesus to command our faith. Let’s read it in Mark 1.

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.

I think we can get at the meaning of this text by first asking, why are you here today? Why are you here in church today? The reasons may not be what you think.

The text begins with Jesus making a momentous announcement. “The time is fulfilled.” That means the perfect moment in world history had arrived. “The kingdom of God has come near.” That means that Earth was now within the borders of the Creator’s rule. Because of these two facts, Jesus called people to do two things: repent and believe. We’ll come back to those in a moment.

So having made that announcement, what is the first thing Jesus does? We might think it would be as momentous as the announcement. Instead he sees a some guys beside the sea and he says to them, “Follow me!” They drop everything and head out after him and that’s why you’re in church today. Jesus has called you in a commanding way and you are trying to follow him by showing up here today.

We can’t tell if Simon and Andrew already knew something about Jesus or not. It is possible that they had heard some things about this man from Nazareth.[2] But maybe not. The way the story is told it appears not to matter if they knew about Jesus before. It says “immediately” they left their nets and followed. Immediately (euquß) is a word Mark’s Gospel uses more than 40 times and it speeds up the story and points out Jesus’ authority. He says “Follow!” and immediately they follow. That’s why you’re in church today.

We might think that Jesus would fuss more about who followed him. Given the momentous announcement that it was the perfect time and God’s kingdom was here, we might think he would be very choosey about who was going to follow. But it appears almost by happenstance that Jesus called disciples. Simon and Andrew were just there; James and John, whom Jesus called next, were just there. We are not told if these men had any training in discipleship or any natural abilities. But they stumbled after Jesus and the kingdom of God got going. That’s why you’re in church this morning.

You are here because you are commandingly called to be here by Jesus Christ. This may seem very strange to you because we don’t think like this. Perhaps all people, but Americans in particular, like to think that we are in charge, that our choices are all important, and that we make our own decisions. But today’s text invites us all to consider the amazing idea that our lives are the sum of God’s decisions. The kingdom comes near because Jesus has the authority to call it into being.

So whether you think so or not, you are here today because you were put here. We make many choices: what to wear, what to have for breakfast, where to go to college, how to spend our money, what movie to see. “That looks interesting,” we say. “Let’s go.” It can appear that we choose to go to church or not, or to be a disciple of Jesus or not, in the same way that we choose everything else. But appearances are deceiving and in terms of the kingdom there is more going on than meets the eye.[3]

How do we know this is true? The text says that the kingdom of God has come near. Now for at least 1,600 years that idea has been understood primarily in terms of the church. Do you want to see the kingdom? Look at the church. Look at how big we’ve become. Look at all the buildings. Look at all the people. See what power we have. We can influence who gets elected. So for a very long time we have tended to think that the kingdom of God is real because the church is visible.

But we need to think ourselves back into Mark’s shoes when his text was written. There was no church to speak of and no buildings. Even the Jews were in diaspora, spread throughout the empire. When Mark wrote Jerusalem had just been burned to the ground by the Romans. The empire stood a colossus atop the world and no one could resist its power. There was no kingdom of God to be seen no matter how hard one looked.

Yet there were disciples who followed Jesus. They left what they were doing and they followed. Why? Because they were called. Because they heard in him something they didn’t hear anywhere else. It wasn’t because they were faithful or smart or talented. We will look in detail at Mark’s portrait of the disciples in our Lenten preaching and Mark paints them in dark tones. They were often blind, stupid, and faithless. But they followed and the reason they followed is that Jesus commandingly called them.

That’s why you are here today and why I’m here. Somehow, in ways we can perhaps never explain, the commanding call of the Lord has come to us and we’ve followed. Does this make us better than other people? No, of course not. Can we explain why we’re here and others are not? Not even the Bible answers why some seem to be called and others do not. But it does answer why we are here. Jesus commands, “Follow me!” So we have.

Then we are to “repent” and “believe.” When we know we are called, we must live out our calling and that means we repent and believe.

For many people, repentance suggests a judgmental and moralistic prudishness. But when the gospels speak of repentance, they mean something far stronger and higher. To repent means to change one’s mind about what is important. To repent means to think first about where God is going and then to go in the same direction. To repent means, as one writer said, “to catch sight of God’s agenda, internalize its priorities, and let it become the cornerstone of our thinking.”[4]

That’s why we need to repent and believe. We must have faith that the way of Jesus in the world is the right way. Sometimes that is far from obvious. Oh, if we just stay huddled safely in the church, Jesus’ way seems okay. But disciples are to be out there and to witness to the good news that the kingdom of God has come. God’s rule has arrived despite all that contradicts it, including the contradictions of the church.

This means that repenting and believing are not about being sweet and nice. To repent and believe mean going God’s way in the world and doing the right things. Sometimes that happens where and when we least expect it.

William Willimon was for many years the dean of the chapel at Duke University. He tells the story of one night several years ago when a Duke fraternity invited him to give a talk. The administration requires fraternities have to have a certain number of programs each year in order to give them some semblance of respectability. So Willimon’s assigned topic was “Character and College.” He thought to himself, “Lord, thou hast delivered them into my hands.” He couldn’t believe that they were dumb enough to invite an old guy like him to talk to young guys like them on “character.”

So he went to the fraternity and knocked on the door. He was greeted by a young boy about nine years old. He wondered what a kid was doing over there at that time of night. Surely there were some rules against young children being out so late.

The boy said, “They’re waiting for you in the common room. Follow me, I’ll take you there.”

In the common room the fraternity was gathered, glumly waiting for Willimon’s presentation. As he began speaking, he noticed that the little boy climbed on the lap of one of the college students and shortly, he fell asleep with his head on the shoulder of that college kid.

Willimon hammered them for the moral failings of their generation for about half an hour. When he finally finished speaking and asked if there were any questions, there was dead silence. So he thanked them for the honor and made his way out. He heard the college kid say to the little boy, “You go on and get ready for bed. I’ll be back to tuck you in and read you a story.”

When they stood just outside the door, the fraternity boy lit a cigarette, took a drag on it, and thanked Willimon for coming out.

“Oh, that’s Darrell,” the college kid replied. “The fraternity is part of the Durham Big Brother program. We met Darrell that way. His mom’s on crack and having a tough time. Sometimes it gets so bad that she can’t care for him. So we told Darrell to call us up when he needs us. We go over, pick him up, and he stays with us until it’s okay to go home. We take him to school, buy him his clothes, books, and stuff.”

“That’s amazing,” Willimon said. “I take back all that I said about you people being bad and irresponsible.”

“I tell you what’s amazing,” the student said as he took another drag on his cigarette. “What’s amazing is that God would pick a guy like me to do something this good for somebody else.”[5]

I like that story because when you think about it it’s amazing that God would pick any of us to anything good for the kingdom. But what Jesus commands happens. We need to trust he hasn’t called us by mistake and then we need to do the right thing.

Friends, we are in church today because Jesus called us, invited us, and summoned us here. We are here, not because we searched for him, but rather because he searched for us, found us, claimed us, and gave us jobs to do in his kingdom. So as we think of the faith we have in Jesus, let us also remember the faith he has in us. In that confidence, we can repent and believe. We can go about our living and be at peace. We can follow the way of Jesus in the world and not be anxious.

In one of his poems, the great poet W. H. Auden (1907-1973), expressed the difference it makes that God has now come into the world in Jesus Christ. Auden wrote:

And because of His visitation, we may no longer desire God as if He were lacking: our redemption is no longer a question of pursuit but of surrender to Him who is always and everywhere present. Therefore at every moment we pray that, following Him, we may depart from our anxiety into His peace.[6]

It is the peace that comes from knowing that Jesus has called us. Commandingly! Let us follow him.

[1] The one other biblical reference to “fishing for people” is Jeremiah’s prophecy where God promised to send fishermen and hunters who will catch and hunt those who oppressed God’s people. “I am now sending for many fishermen, says the Lord, and they shall catch them; and afterward I will send for many hunters, and they shall hunt them from every mountain and every hill, and out of the clefts of the rocks. For my eyes are on all their ways; they are not hidden from my presence, nor is their iniquity concealed from my sight. And I will doubly repay their iniquity and their sin, because they have polluted my land with the carcasses of their detestable idols, and have filled my inheritance with their abominations.” (Jeremiah 16.16-18)

[2] Morna D. Hooker, The Gospel According to Saint Mark (Peabody, MA: Hendrickson Publishers, 1991) 59.

[3] One of the things that is more than meets the eye is the honesty that true faith both permits and compels. Douglas John Hall critiques a “growth-in-grace” syndrome because in so many churches it produces personal pietism that all too readily leaves the world behind so long as one may save oneself. But when we honestly acknowledge that only God’s grace saves, then we can be honest about growing in sanctity: “it allows us to be honest about life’s grave unsanctity while believing, hoping, and living under the necessitas of a Spirit-directed grace that drives one into the world, the macrocosm and the microcosm, to find one’s true sanctity there among the creatures. And, not incidentally, this may even help to overcome that alienation one feels as a serious Christian about the church. Even the church, for all its unholiness, may be a candidate for the sanctification of the life-giving Spirit.” Douglas John Hall, Confessing the Faith: Christian Theology in a North American Context (Minneapolis: Fortress Press, 1996) 294.

[4] Roger E. Van Harn, ed., The Lectionary Commentary: Theological Exegesis for Sunday’s Texts, The Third Readings (The Gospels) (Grand Rapids: Wm. B. Eerdmans, 2001) 174.

[5] William H. Willimon, “Revolution!” Pulpit Resource 34.1 (2006): 19.

[6] From “For the Time Being” in W. H. Auden, W. H. Auden: Collected Poems (New York: Vintage, 1991) 374.