History disrupters like toxic politicians and pandemics are unpleasant to endure, but not all history disrupters are a detriment to society. Our scripture today depicts Jesus as such a history disrupter, calling the disciples to become fishers of people rather than fishers of Lake Galilee. Peter, James and the Zebedee brothers knew how to entangle the local fish, tilapia, which is currently my favorite to dine on. They didn’t know much about catching people. Yet Jesus came along, and in Mark’s version said a few words and totally disrupted their lives.
What a disruption! Not only did he convince them to quit their jobs, but he also convinced them to walk away from their family obligations. He did it even though his mentor and predecessor, John the baptiser, had been arrested and was being held indefinitely without trial in Herod’s dungeon.
They followed, despite their previous loyalties, despite their secure careers and family obligations, and despite being completely untrained and unskilled in the ways of catching people. Jesus didn’t care about that. Jesus knew that they would be able to learn what they needed to learn. Jesus knew that it wouldn’t be a safe occupation for them or him, but it would be a disruption of historic proportions. Did he know that they would become so transformed by this experience that they would risk anything and go anywhere for the sake of his message? Did he know that his teachings would be spread far beyond the shores of Galilee? Did he know that they would end up travelling, from Israel to Rome, India, Greece, Spain and some say even to the British Isles? His call was to ask them to commit to following him and learning how to gather people in. All the rest was not in anyone’s intentions.
Paul’s writing is a similar call to holy disruption. To think of time not as interesting or cursed but as extraordinary, as blessed. It echoes the idea that the kingdom of heaven is among us right now. It shakes our understanding of time being not just the minutes, hours and days of our lives, what the ancient Greeks call Chronos, but seconds of significance. The sense of sacred time, Kairos, is one in which we see God’s presence calling us and disrupting us away from interesting to extraordinary. To see every moment as a sacred challenge.
How do we live into that sacred challenge? For starters, not as celibates, despite Paul’s wording there. Sorry Paul, I’m married and I know that it has transformed me in many God-called ways. But seeing our marriages as sacred calls into extraordinary love, as God loved us, is one way of living into that sacred challenge. And it’s not a call to a self-centred life either. So many folks are tied up in despair because all they focus on is themselves. Others see life as essentially pointless, without meaning or purpose. Their depression and cynicism can be contagious, leading again to a focus on nothing but themselves. Many feel angry at how powerless they are, that the world is conspiring to get them, and they must protect themselves at all costs, with Molotov cocktails, pipe bombs, guns and racism. Still others are convinced that their job is to convert other people to the truth that they alone possess, by any means possible.
Many folks in their cynicism and despair and anger and fear do not know that they are living in extraordinary times. All they experience day after day are interesting times. Jesus called the fishermen in similar circumstances, and Jesus calls us today to fish for humans who are living in pain and isolation. How do we do that?
I’m reminded of the Seventh Day Adventists who called the church the other day asking if I read the bible. They told me that they did good works. “Us too!” I chirped. They helped the homeless. “Of course”, I agreed. They connected with shut-ins, “so do we!” And they worshipped God together. “Every week,” I replied. They even dropped off books to our front door about the end times coming. “We give away free books too, and food and even clothing.” “Really?” They asked. “You are talking to a church, you know, and I am the minister here.” Such ways leave people feeling suspicious and
One commentator remarked that we can remember how fishermen caught that delicious tilapia in Galilee. They didn’t use fishing rods. They didn’t cast lines with carefully tied lures. They didn’t attach spoons or red wigglers or feathers. All these trick the fish into thinking they are biting on a tasty treat. Galileans used nets, straightforward rope constructions with no pointy bits. Nets that are obviously nets and easily seen. Nets that can pull people from the chaos of their wild lives into new community. Nets that disrupt mundane existance in ways that will enrich others. Nets that pull people out of the murky, muddy depths of despair into new ways of seeing, new ways of seeking, and sometimes new ways of self-sacrificing.
We are called out of interesting times into extraordinary times. We have been caught up by the nets of God into a new reality. It is our calling, our opportunity, and our privilege to do the same for those that are suffering in this world. May we hear the call and answer with fortitude, generosity, wisdom, and courage.
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