Following

Mark 1:14-20

January 21, 2018

            “When I bought my stereo, I went home with an instruction manual that must have been 50 pages long. I could get help with that stereo in English, Spanish, French, Portuguese. That was for my stereo. But when my son was born, the doctor handed him to me and said, ‘Here you go.’”

            That was how actor Will Smith described what it felt like becoming a parent. For a stereo – or any other kind of technology – you get a how-to manual. For becoming a parent, you get handed the child, whether it’s the baby you’ve just had or a child you’ve adopted, and you’re told, “Here you go.”

            It’s not that there aren’t baby and children instruction manuals out there. Spock wasn’t just a name on Star Trek. When I was expecting Phoebe, the baby book that all soon-to-be parents were reading was “What to Expect When You’re Expecting.” I had a copy, and I didn’t just read it, I devoured it. I read through each month of each trimester and compared notes with what I was experiencing. Which sounds helpful, but when you combine this kind of my knowledge with my tendency to worry and my vivid imagination, it can become problematic.

“Was that twinge I just felt normal?”

“Is the baby developing okay?”

“That illness that can cause everything from fetal distress to premature birth, I think I have it!”

But as helpful as “What to Expect When You’re Expecting” was, it still did not prepare me for what it meant to be a parent. I saw that interview with Will Smith before I became a parent, and I thought he was hilarious. After I became a parent, I thought he was brilliant.

“Here you go.”

There is an immediacy to becoming a parent. You go from not being one to being one in a second, and in that second everything changes. I know that there are other examples of this kind of immediacy as well; professions and vocations where no matter how intense and thorough the training is, there is still that moment when you either have to sink or swim. There is immediacy, whether it is that moment when you become a parent or jump into the actual doing of a profession or something else. There is a moment of immediacy.

That’s what the calling of the first disciples in Mark’s gospel feels like to me – a moment of immediacy. Whenever we are in a year where we focus on Mark’s gospel, I point out that Mark uses the word “immediately” repeatedly in his narrative. The Greek word, eutheos, which is translated alternately as immediately or straight away is used approximately 40 times. Mark’s use of eutheos creates this sense of urgency. And for Mark, there is definitely good reason for urgency. Jesus has come. Jesus has come, and ushered in the kingdom of God. Upon his arrival, Jesus was not just standing idly by either. Jesus was on the move. Jesus had a ministry to begin, good news to preach, people to heal. The time is now, people. There is no time for hanging out, shooting the breeze and just chillin’. Jesus is on the move, and so should we be!

This certainly comes through in Mark’s telling of Jesus’ call to the disciples. He was passing along by the Sea of Galilee, when he saw two brothers: Simon and Andrew. They were casting their nets into the sea because they were fishermen. Jesus did not introduce himself. He did not offer any explanation, he just said,

“Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”

Something about Jesus, something about his call, resonated with them, and they immediately left their nets and followed him. Now there were three.

They went a little farther, and Jesus saw two more brothers, James and John, sons of Zebedee. They were in their boat mending nets. Immediately Jesus called them, and they left their father, Zebedee, in the boat and followed Jesus.

For both sets of brothers, it was a moment of immediacy. One minute they were fishermen, doing their daily tasks; the next they were disciples. There was no pause, no hesitation, no time of discernment or decision. They left their boats, they left their livelihoods, they left their father and their families, and they followed Jesus.

Here you go! Immediately.

The stories of Jesus calling the first disciples always get to me. I love them. I find them inspiring. Can you believe how the disciples just dropped everything and followed Jesus? They were so willing to give up their lives leading up to that moment, and setting out after a man they barely knew and into a future that was surely unknown. I know that the disciples will mess up a lot, especially in Mark’s gospel. They could not grasp who Jesus truly was and what that really meant. They could not understand the idea of the Son of God suffering. They lacked courage. They lacked a lot of things. But still! Look how they followed!

I love this story, but I also find it intimidating. Can you believe how the disciples just dropped everything followed Jesus? They just dropped everything?! They left their lives, their families, and their security and followed him.

Whatever the disciples may have lacked when it came to actually following, compared to them, I feel even more lacking. I followed a call, but I also have insurance, a pension. Did I just drop everything when I responded to the call to follow? Not completely. Would I have just dropped everything to follow? I hope so, but I’m not so sure.

Aside from the dropping everything part, what about preparation for following? When it comes to Ministers of the Word and Sacrament, Presbyterians, like other denominations, value educated women and men. I went to seminary for four years – three years of coursework and a year internship. I couldn’t get ordained until I passed five intensive ordination exams. And I could not get permission to seek my first call to a church until I had been examined by a committee and preached on the floor of presbytery.

Although you good folks who serve on session as elders don’t have to do all that – yet (just kidding!) – you do have to trained. We have officer training on a yearly basis, for both current and new elders. And even if you never serve on session, as a denomination we still value education in our congregations. I’m not talking about formal education per se, but church education, biblical education and so on.

There is a lot of preparation involved with following Jesus. The more I think about it, the more I feel intimidated by this passage. I answered a call, but I also had intense preparation for following.

But here’s the thing, maybe I didn’t drop everything to follow Jesus. Maybe you didn’t either, but we are following. It seems to me we see answering a call to follow as a one-time event. Jesus calls, we respond. But following is everyday. Our response to Jesus’ call to “follow me,” is an answer we give everyday. It is a choice we make everyday. Jesus calls everyday, and no matter how much preparation we may have, we can never be fully prepared for how that call will take shape and where that call will take us.

Jesus calls everyday. Remember that when Jesus called the disciples, he didn’t say it was because they had specific talents or skills. There’s no indication that he called the disciples based on their age, or even their gender. Think about the unnamed women that we don’t read about in the story. Jesus used their occupation as a metaphor for what they would be doing, but I suspect that if they had been baking, he might have found another metaphor specific to that as well.

Jesus called them to follow. And they did, imperfectly and with all their flaws on display. Jesus calls us the same way. Just follow me. And we do. We are. We are following. We are doing it imperfectly with all of our flaws on display, but we are doing it. We are following. We are following. I suspect that we have all had a moment of immediacy when we have answered the call of Jesus to ‘follow me.” And it also seems to me that those moments will just keep coming. Because everyday we are called and everyday we are following.

Let all of God’s children say, “Alleluia!” Amen.