For Sunday, January 25, 2015 – Mark 1:14-20
It is the longest journey we ever make—the one from general to specific. Taking up the ministry of John, who now has been imprisoned by Herod, Jesus continues to proclaim “the good news of repentance,” but he begins to clarify how this repentance will be not only a repentance of the heart, how it will move us not only into generally different thoughts and attitudes, but it will disturb and reorder very specific areas of our lives. Jesus’ kind of repentance calls out: Turn and walk with me, come alongside, companion those I companion, live in new ways without knowing where it all will lead. The waters of your baptism now rise up and spill across all the boundaries of your life, sweeping you into God’s movement.
We don’t know much about Simon and Andrew, James and John before they meet Jesus, but we do know they are not “theoretical” fishermen, but actual fish-gathering men. They are familiar with hard work, early risings, the sweaty, smelly side of earning a living to feed their families and villages. They likely are not highly educated, erudite men bantering lofty theories of the mind. Jesus did not find them idling at the pier, indulging in religious platitudes, but mending nets and hauling in the day’s catch. Perhaps there is something in the way they are working—how they attend to the task at hand, intuitively sense when it’s time to lower the nets and when it’s time to rest or mend, talk or be still—that catches Jesus’ eye and leads him to call out his playful greeting: “Hey, fishermen! Want to learn to fish for men?” And then the surprise—they go!
What has been already stirring in their inner waters, steadily preparing them for this moment? They are just everyday people, at home inwardly and with each other, in tune with the rhythms of work and rest, reaping and mending. Perhaps this has been their preparation all along, faithfully watching and working, drawing up the bounty God provides, trusting the waters to give unseen gifts. In the silent depths of us all, our own next yes waits. A beautiful fish eludes us. Are we honing the steady rhythms in which our own readiness will grow? Do we watch and listen, say thank you for what already is? When the next call comes, it will move us from general to specific; it will show us God’s humor; it will surprise us with our response.
