Scripture Mark 1:14-20
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 fishers. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of 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.
Sermon
Sometimes, God provides exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. Or maybe that’s all the time… I’ll have to ponder that further.
My current example: I’m a Saturday sermon writer. No shame. It’s just my process. I think about the passage all week, and make notes, and find amazing resources. Then, on Saturday, it all comes together. That happened, not once, but twice this week. First, I found this poem, by the Rev. Maren Tirabassi, a United Church of Christ pastor whom I know entirely from the amazing poems she posts on Facebook. Here’s one of her latest. It’s called, What we learn from Zebedee in 2024
I never begrudged their going forth –
John and James, my only children.
I liked the teacher’s message – they chose well.
Did you know my wife Salome
went to the tomb at dawn with spices,
still embarrassed
that on the journey she'd asked,
if our sons could sit
on the right hand and the left?
No, perhaps you didn’t.
If you think of us at all,
it is as parents who were left behind,
proud to send their children out
skilled in cast and catch,
able to face high winds, rough storm ...
but only we know that in the thunder
of their brave following,
even after Pentecost flames
and all the strange words,
after mourning our young James,
killed first of the disciples,
even in much later times to come
when lying words
will be considered politically shrewd,
insurrection merely a strategy,
and violence meet violence,
in the dying of so many children,
those who follow the teacher
will need my signature other skill –
the long, hard, slow,
left hand and right hand,
mending of the nets.
This was the perfect poem, at the perfect time, because I’d been asking myself, not just this week, but for weeks, months, actually: What is it like to leave your nets behind? Or, in the case of James and John, sons of Zebedee, your father, and his hired men? It seems that, for the earliest and closest disciples of Jesus, choosing to follow him meant leaving behind… stability, an income, skills that not everyone had, wives, children, parents, parents-in-law (before chapter 1 comes to an end, Jesus will heal Simon Peter’s mother-in-law)… people and things none of us leave lightly, even when they are causing us active harm. But when they’re not—and there’s no information anywhere that Simon and Andrew, John and James were leaving harmful situations—it must be hard. It’s got to be hard.
So, my first question was: Why did these men leave all those things, all those people, and do it so easily, almost cavalierly, carelessly? That’s what it looks like in our passage. It looks like, a stranger walked up to these men, said, “Follow me, and I’ll show you how to fish for people,” and they all said, YEAH! And jumped up and went.
And my second question was, how is it possible to leave all these, and be ok? How is it possible to do it without resentment, without regret? Isn’t it hard? Isn’t it heartbreaking?
Then, I went to Bible Study, and there, as it so often happens, the members of that group set me on the right path. Sometimes, God provides exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.
As to the first question, why. One thing that occurs to me is, Jesus must have been incredibly charismatic. There must have been a light in him that everyone could see. That would certainly explain some of the fear we witness in the religious leaders of his day. It also goes a long way toward explaining how easily he seems to have drawn people to himself.
But also: This is the gospel according to Mark. This evangelist is the earliest of our four gospel writers—the gospel is believed to have been written not long after the sacking of Jerusalem and the destruction of the second Temple, in the year 70 CE. Mark is known for his terse and active style, a gospel that propels itself forth with the word “immediately.” The word is used 82 times in the New Testament, and 26 of them are in this, the shortest gospel. I think it’s safe to say that there may be more to the story than Mark tells us, because he’s so eager to get to the next thing.
The men at their nets may have already seen Jesus somewhere before, they may have heard him teach. They may have heard others talking about him, or heard a miracle described, maybe even witnessed it. Each pair of brothers may have discussed between themselves how they felt about it—would they go, if they got the chance? Was he already pulling at something in their hearts?
Those details are not available to us. All we know is this: Jesus came, Jesus called, and the two pairs of brothers followed.
As for my second question—how did they process the loss of leaving behind all that was familiar, their livelihoods, the people they loved?
Here is where the Bible Study came into action. I asked, “What have you had to give up to become a follower of Jesus, or to serve in the particular ministry where you serve?” And immediately the answer came back from several sources.
Following Jesus, serving God, brings its own rewards. Yes, you are doing something that you hope (or that you can clearly see) helps others. And in that is satisfaction, in that you find joy. You leave the meeting glad for the plans that were made, and happy to anticipate their impact down the road. You leave the pantry tired and knowing lives have been made better. You leave the home or hospital visit knowing that someone who might be isolated feels a little less so, because you were there, you brought the care of the community to them.
And, of course, you’re with Jesus. At first, I was going to say that the disciples, Simon Peter and Andrew, John and James, got to be with Jesus, to hear his words, to witness his healings, to break bread with him and 5000 newfound friends. But then I remembered: We are the body of Christ. We are the body of Christ most especially when we come together to do his work. We get to be with Jesus, too. And we see little miracles, don’t we—the look on someone’s face when they feel seen, and heard, and cared for. The relief when our Pantry translators have helped someone who doesn’t speak English to find the right foods for their family. The laughter we share in the midst of getting the work done. We get to be with Jesus.
Sometimes, God provides exactly what you need, exactly when you need it.
The last lines of Maren’s poem caught me off guard, delivered a punch to the gut—the good kind, the “aha” kind—because of that last sentiment, about a skill the brothers brought to their work with Jesus. Remember, this is their father speaking:
those who follow the teacher
will need my signature other skill –
the long, hard, slow,
left hand and right hand,
mending of the nets.
There is nothing our country and our world need more urgently than to be mended—to have their wounds dressed, so that they can heal. The “mending of the nets” here stands as a metaphor for that need, because the ministry we are called to—all of us, by virtue of our baptism—is a ministry of mending, a ministry of reconciliation. And to all of us, not only our Deacons and Elders, this is a crucial part of our calling: in the service of baptism we hear that we are called to Christ’s ministry of love, justice, and peace, and that goes for life inside the church of Jesus Christ and outside of it, too. We need, not allying only with those who agree fully with us, but the bonds of love that reach out, and bend, and prove stronger than the heaviest chains. We need, not revenge-driven consequences, but God’s justice, which is laced through and through with mercy. And we need, not a bellicose approach to our differences, a desire to annihilate each other, but a deep and persistent desire for peace among all people—what the gospel calls, peace, goodwill among humankind.
So, don’t be overwhelmed. Don’t say, “I can’t do that,” because the smallest kindness effects great change, whether we personally see it or not. And remember, sometimes, God provides exactly what you need, exactly when you need it. So, take heart, those of you who have left your nets behind for this next step in serving God. I will now quote a passage from 2 Corinthians, the second thing God provided that I needed this week. I found it was printed on a mug that one of you gave me:
And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work. ~2 Corinthians 9:8
Thanks be to God. Amen.