Mark 1: 14-20

Sisters & brothers, grace to you & peace from the God of hope, the Christ who calls, and the holy, life-giving & life-disrupting Spirit. Amen.

My grandfather occasionally enjoyed fishing and every now-and-then would take me down to the Vermillion River with his old bamboo fishing pole on hot and humid mid-summer South Dakota afternoons.  Once we got down to the river, he would find us a nice cool place under a shade tree, unfold the tattered lawn chair he always used, turn a bucket upside down for his footstool, pull his floppy straw hat down over his eyes and say, “I sure hope they don’t bite.”

Fishing with Grandpa B taught me a lot about Lutherans and evangelism.  As in:  we have the basic equipment, and occasionally even the will to “work at it”, but sometimes, truth be told, we sure hope the fish don’t bite!

In the case of Jonah in today’s first reading, you’ll notice that the lesson begins by saying “The word of the Lord came to Jonah a second time…”  That’s because the first time the word of the Lord came to Jonah, saying “Arise, go to Nineveh,” Jonah responded half-way obediently by arising all right, but rather than arising and going to Nineveh, Jonah arose and fled to Tarshish — away from Nineveh and — hopefully — away from that nagging voice, that annoying word of the Lord — inviting him, summoning him, calling him — to Nineveh.

If you recall your Bible stories, you remember that Jonah didn’t have much luck in escaping that persistent voice, that word of the Lord that wouldn’t let up.  So after a bit of excitement involving getting thrown overboard from the ship to Tarshish during “a mighty tempest” and 40 days and nights in the belly of a great big fish, Jonah finally gets it. Just to help you contextualize the story a bit, here’s the verse that leads into today’s first reading, from the end of Jonah ch. 2:  “And the Lord spoke to the fish, and it vomited out Jonah upon the dry land.” I know, I know: it’s a whale of a tale.

Well anyway, the combination of 40 days & nights in the belly of the fish and this huge whale-of-a-”hurling” apparently put Jonah in a receptive mode to hear the word of the Lord a second time, because as our reading records:   this time he “set out and went to Nineveh,” according to the word of the Lord.  There was just one problem.   You see, Jonah was sorta like my Grandpa B.  Deep down, he really hoped the fish wouldn’t bite.  Really and truly, he didn’t expect a response.  He figured that they, like he did the first time, would ignore/disregard the word of the Lord.  So when the people on Nineveh actually obeyed the word of the Lord and turned from their evil ways, Jonah was angry — majorly ticked off — not at them but with God for God’s lack of harshness, for God’s grace and mercy which were kicked in for the people of Nineveh, for God’s lack of punishing!   Basically, Jonah was angry with God for being God because Jonah was really getting into that role himself! Jonah wanted the bad news to stick.  He wanted God to give it to them good.  Instead, the good news won out.  “God changed God’s mind about the calamity God said he would bring upon them, and God did not do it.”  The news was good.  Good news indeed for Nineveh.

The Gospel text for this morning starts out with a word about some good news as well.  Granted, John the Baptizer had been arrested for proclaiming the coming kingdom, but now the kingdom had arrived in Jesus, and Jesus was on-the-scene, proclaiming this good news.   And, just as in Nineveh, the fish were biting there in Galilee too.

Their names were Simon and Andrew, James and John.  All fishermen by trade, all being invited by Jesus, all being summoned to leave it all behind and follow him.  All four were already in their boats when Jesus encountered them.  Simon and Andrew were out in the water casting a net into the sea when Jesus invited them.   St. Mark takes care to note that although they were in their boat, James and John, the sons of thunderous Zebedee, were actually mending their nets when Jesus invited them.   But the author of this text seems to wants us to notice this detail:  all four were working with their nets when Jesus invited them.  Net-working, you might say.   Getting those nets ready to… — in Jesus’ words… — “fish for people.”

It was an invitation and a summons and a beckoning call and a total disruption of life as they knew it, but unlike Jonah, these four men all respond favorably to the very first inviting words of Jesus.   The word St. Mark repeats to describe what is happening in this text, what is happening between Jesus and these four fishermen is the word “immediately”.  There were no delays, there were no excuses, and there was no hesitation.  The former things got left behind:  old nets, old boats, old man Zebedee, and the old hired hands.  The new life of God’s dominion had come near to them, and they were in the “go for it” mode.  They wanted it. They were all over it. There was no stopping them.

Take a moment and have a look at the front cover of this morning’s bulletin.  The title of the artwork, according to the tiny print on the back cover, is “Rowboat from Way Back When.”   Note the details in the image of the hull — that network of frames that extend from side to side, and then the keel — the backbone of the boat running along the center of the bottom.  Now, take a look above your head.  Check out the ceiling of this sanctuary.  Any resemblance?  Kinda sorta?   It’s not by accident.  Because this part of the sanctuary is called the nave, from the Latin navis meaning ship, and architecturally it’s meant to resemble the bottom of a ship. For nearly two millennia, the ship has been a symbol of the church — hearkening back to biblical stories like the ark in which Noah and his family were saved, and the boat the disciples were in when Jesus calmed the stormy Sea of Galilee.

So we too, like Simon and Andrew, and James and John, we too are found in our boat this morning, and the word of the Lord that will not let us be and leave us alone comes to us this morning. “Follow me,” Jesus says, “and I will make you fish for people.” Most of the time we’d rather be keepers of the aquarium, or like my Grandpa B, simply be content with the appearance of going fishing.

But here we are in this upside down boat this morning.

Our networks are many.

The voice is calling.

We can think of a million reasons to decline the invite.

But Jesus has got us right where he wants us.

The captain of this fishing boat wants to overturn your life and stand the world on its head.

Beginning immediately.

So we better eat and run, because I’m told there are all varieties of fish in the sea, and I — for one — sort of hope they’re biting.

Amen.