3 Epiphany 2015
Today’s Gospel reading is something
of a continuation of the story of Jesus calling his disciples—even though last
week we read from John’s Gospel, and today pick up in Mark’s. It’s a
surprisingly short reading, but one that packs some punch if we’re paying
attention.
We’re told that John the Baptist
had been arrested, and Jesus shows up on the scene preaching the same message
John had been, "The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God has come
near; repent, and believe in the good news." It’s a simple message, but
one which had all of Judea rushing to the riverside to meet John
(apparently)—not for fear of the coming wrath, but because (I think) these
people hadn’t heard such good solid truth in all their born days, and (I also
think) what John preached then, and what Jesus is preaching here was not cheap…
Anyway, as Jesus made his way along
the waterfront, (a little like Karl Malden’s Fr. Berry), he finds these
guys—dockworkers at best—at their daily labor. We know from what happens next
that this is probably work all of them had done their entire lives—this was a
family business. All the same, with a simple invitation, Jesus convinces Simon
(later called Peter), Andrew and the two “Sons of Thunder” (James and John) to
leave everything behind to become fishers of people.
Now, I can’t give you any absolute
idea of what these men were like, but I don’t suppose they were the type of
guys who spent their free time studying Torah. We can gather this from
nicknames like Peter (which means rock) and “Sons of Thunder,” names better
suited to a boxing ring than a mission from God.
Still…they knew enough that when a
rabbi invites you to be a disciple, it’s an honor. Then again, how many rabbis
could these guys have known? How sensible would leaving their lives and
livelihood behind sound to men who worked hard for their daily bread? In other
words, what on earth would cause these men to drop everything and follow Jesus?
Well, our natural inclination might
be to say that they followed because he’s Jesus… But we have to remember that
this is right at the beginning of Jesus’ public ministry. He’s still preaching
John’s sermons, and isn’t famous enough to appear on grilled cheese sandwiches
yet. However, if I were to hazard a guess, I would say that they responded to
Jesus, because like John, what Jesus was preaching was hope, and truth—and it
seems to me that Simon, Andrew, James and John were dying for it. And in a
world that was probably buzzing with the legalism of the Pharisees and
Sadducees; brimming with the angst of oppression; and near-bursting with the
energy of revolution—promises of salvation were a dime-a-dozen, and there was
probably a messiah on every street corner. But, a guy who preached truth, and
invited people to a new life, and a new way of living—that was something. More
importantly, what Jesus promised was far from cheap, and is why everyone on a boat that day wasn’t following him like the
pied-piper.
Then again, we know that as Jesus’
ministry began to pick up steam, there were times when the crowds were so
thick, it was all he could do to get away to pray once in a while. So long as
Jesus was doing miracles, feeding thousands of people and preaching good
sermons—the people couldn’t get enough.
Of course, it’s not until he sets
his sights on Jerusalem and warns the people about the cost of discipleship
that the crowd begins to go thin. This, of course, is because for all that what
Jesus promises is true, it also comes at great risk, and personal cost.
And this is something that I think
many people find too difficult to accept.
In the spiritual classic The Cost of Discipleship, Dietrich Bonhoeffer
talks at length about what true discipleship asks of us. Bonhoeffer, of course,
was a pastor and theologian who was martyred in a Nazi concentration camp in
1945 because of his work against the Nazi party. So, I suppose we can trust
that he knows what he’s talking about in this regard.
Warning against what he terms
“cheap grace,” Bonhoeffer says:
The essence
of grace, we suppose, is that the account has been paid in advance; and, because it has been paid, everything
can be had for nothing... Cheap grace is the grace we bestow on ourselves. Cheap grace is the preaching of forgiveness
without requiring repentance,
baptism without church discipline. Communion without confession, absolution without personal
confession. Cheap grace is grace without discipleship, grace without the cross, grace without Jesus
Christ, living and incarnate...
[Costly
grace] is the kingly rule of Christ, for whose sake a man will pluck out the
eye which causes him to stumble;
it is the call of Jesus Christ at which the disciple leaves his nets and follows him...
Such grace is
costly because it calls us to follow, and it is grace because it calls us to follow Jesus Christ. It is costly
because it costs a man his life, and it is grace because it gives a man the only true life. It is
costly because it condemns sin, and grace because it justifies the sinner. Above all, it is costly because it
cost God the life of his Son.
There is this wonderful hymn in our
hymnals that not too many people get to see. It’s Hymn 661, and it’s called
“They cast their nets in Galilee.” Strangely enough, the hymn tune is sort of
calm, and lovely—but if you take a moment to read the words of the hymn—the
contrast is almost startling.
They say:
They cast their nets
in Galilee
Just off the hills of brown
Such happy simple fisherfolk
Before the Lord came down
Just off the hills of brown
Such happy simple fisherfolk
Before the Lord came down
Contented peaceful fishermen
Before they ever knew
The peace of God That fill'd their hearts
Brimful and broke them too.
Before they ever knew
The peace of God That fill'd their hearts
Brimful and broke them too.
Young John who trimmed the flapping sail,
Homeless, in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net,
Head-down was crucified.
Homeless, in Patmos died.
Peter, who hauled the teeming net,
Head-down was crucified.
The peace of God, it is no peace,
But strife closed in the sod,
Yet, let us, pray for but one thing -
The marvelous peace of God.
But strife closed in the sod,
Yet, let us, pray for but one thing -
The marvelous peace of God.
I suppose we can guess why it doesn’t get a
lot of air play. It’s far from happy-clappy, and there doesn’t seem to be a
whole lot of “good news” in it—especially for a church hymn. But, what I think
I find so amazing about it is that it’s true. It doesn’t try to sugar coat what
was waiting for the disciples when they followed Jesus that day. It doesn’t
water-down what the Gospel cost them, and it doesn’t obscure what our faith
asks of all of us. Because the call of Jesus on our lives is the call to follow
wherever the road leads—and if his way is any indication, we know that the way
leads to the cross, on this side of things.
And yet, I have to believe for
people in our day and age who live in a culture of plastic, illusion and false
promises—a little bit of truth goes a long, long way…even if it means our
lives. Because, like Simon, Andrew, James and John; I feel like we’re treading
the water of a very selfish culture that tempts us with all that we think we
could want. On the other hand we want to play with the gasoline of faith, and
the fire of the Holy Spirit… And do we think that this combination is going to
lead to anything good?
It seems to me then, that we’re
people just as desperate for something real as Simon, Andrew, and the Sons of
Thunder… “Our hearts drunk with the wine of the world,” we wait for something
true, something good, something real to rouse us from the dizzy muddle. Today
we hear the words again, “Follow me, and I will make you fish for people…” It’s
as much a call to us today, as it was to those four disciples 2,000 years ago.
And, as the great umpire, Bill Klem, said famously, “[a pitch] ain’t nothing
till I call it.”
So, today, like every day, we have
a choice to make. Will it be cheap grace, that asks very little of us, but does
little for us or anyone besides? Or will we choose costly grace? Grace which
tempts us to drop our nets and follow; grace which asks everything of us, and will doubtless break our hearts and us right
along with it.
I’ll just say that we don’t have to
look very far to see what cheap grace is worth. The news, local and global, are
proof enough of what cheap grace costs us. So, with that in mind, and for all
that it will cost us, are we willing to choose costly grace? Because we’re all
dying for it, and so is the world…
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