Sermon from March 12, 2000
The Gospel of Mark says that Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. The theme of Jesus' good news, everywhere He went, was the kingdom of God. He said over and over again. "The kingdom of God is near." He had to know that by doing that, He was pursuing a dangerous course of action that would open Him up to misunderstanding. He might very well find Himself on a horse He could not ride.

After all, the word kingdom is a political word. We would say, "The government of God is near." The word carries within it the idea and the practice of power in the public arena, and when the New Testament talks about the kingdom of God, it is talking about a massive power struggle. The issue of that power struggle is this: "Whose authority will govern human life?" For Jesus to use that word over and over picked right up where John the Baptist had left off. Both men tapped into something deep within the soul of Israel.

You will appreciate that better by tapping into something similar, deep within our national soul. The day after Ronald Reagan was elected president in 1980, a remarkable gathering took place at Liberty University. All the major news media were there, because they attributed Reagan's success and the success of the Republican Party in the Senate to the work of the Moral Majority. Columnist Cal Thomas, a member of the Moral Majority at the time, describes the feeling of people there that morning this way:

"We were on our way to changing America. We had the power to right every wrong and cure every ill and end every frustration that God-fearing people had been forced to submit to by our 'oppressors' ... We opposed them all with the righteous indignation we thought came directly from God. We opposed them because we knew they were the reason America was in decline. And we had been raised up by God himself to reverse that decline," (Blinded by Might, 22).

Substitute Romans for oppressors and Israel for America, and those words would have been right at home on the lips of a first-century Jewish patriot. After five centuries of being an occupied people, Jews believed more strongly than ever that the words of their great prophets were nearing fulfillment. God's kingdom and God's king were coming to vanquish the Romans.

It is true that many pretenders had arisen, who said they were the promised Messiah. They were not, but their fialed attempts at liberation and the occasional, gruesome row of crosses that gave the lie to their pretensions only made Jewish hopes of deliverance more fervent.

In this violence-tinged, revolutionary atmosphere Jesus said, "The time is fulfilled and the kingdom of God is near." Jews knew the word kingdom had to do with power and governing – the power, they would have said, to throw off Roman rule and become self-governing under God. The Jews of Jesus' day were right to look for God to assert His authority over human life in very practical ways. Whether they were right in how they thought He would assert His authority makes up a very important part of the story Mark has told us.

In any case, the advanced preparations of John the Baptist and Jesus' proclamation that the kingdom of God was near stirred people. Could the moment have arrived when the promise of the prophets had come to pass? Could Jesus be the Man who would bring it to pass? By reading the Gospel of Mark against this background of moral indignation, revolutionary fervor, and national hope we can more fully appreciate the story of Jesus of Nazareth.

His message was, "The kingdom of God is near." The word in that message that put the fat in the fire was the word near. If someone tells you that God's authority over a nation's life is about to show itself in the public arena, the next thought in your mind will be, "Show me! Prove it!" We have every reason to think that Mark has told his story of Jesus in such a way as to demonstrate the presence of God's kingdom in the daily affairs of Israel. So, we ought to let Mark get on with his story. He does that in Mark 1:16-20.

As Jesus walked beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men." At once they left their nets and followed him. When he had gone a little farther, he saw James the son of Zebedee and his brother John in a boat, preparing their nets. Without delay he called them, and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.

This does not seem like the start of a revolution. If Jesus came to overthrow the Romans, four fishermen do not seem to count for much. The fishing docks of Galilee seem far removed from the centers of political power in Jerusalem and Rome. On the other hand, every revolution begins small and preferably out of sight of the powers it seeks to overthrow. So, Galilee may not be a bad place to start after all, and if fishermen do not strike us as revolutionary types, that is because we have forgotten that very ordinary-looking people have become revolutionary leaders. Hitler was an undistinguished corporal in the German army and later an unsuccessful artist and sometime baggage boy at a Vienna train station before he rose to power.

Nevertheless, Jesus began His public display of God's kingdom outside the power establishment of His day, whether Jewish or Roman. He went instead to the common people, and His invitation to them made it clear that He had something big in mind. Verse 17: "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men."

Andrew, Peter, James, and John caught fish every day – lots and lots of them. Jesus' invitation to catch people would have given those men a vision of what He was calling them to be part of. "Catch people the way we catch fish! Hey, Andrew, this is big, and we have a chance to get in on the ground floor."

Do you think I am stretching a point to say Jesus wants us to go catch people too? It feels right at home to say that. I am grateful for the building that is going up, but we are not about buildings. We are about people, and that building is just another net in which we catch people. We have a number of nets in our fishing business here, and we are just one fishing business along the docks of North Wilmington. I say, "Let's go catch people the way those men caught fish."

If God's authority over human affairs was about to show itself in the daily affairs of Israel, then it merited the vision that Jesus imparted to those fishermen. It also merited more than words, even though they were most appropriate and visionary words. It merited action that would make a difference. The scale is still small, but what happened next among the "gear and tackle and trim" provided the action.

First of all, when Jesus said, "Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men," He was asking those four men to abandon their source of livelihood. Mark tells the story in such a way that it seems like Jesus did that with no warning ahead of time. Human experience tells us that is not likely, and the Gospel of John confirms that those four men had had prior contact with Jesus.

For all we know they may have had extended conversations with Jesus, with each other, and with their families about the prospects of doing what Jesus finally asked them to do. Mark's point is that when push came to shove, those men abandoned their source of livelihood and became permanently attched to Jesus' agenda for catching people. I want you to see something else about them that reinforces the sense of Jesus' authority.

When Jesus found Simon and Andrew, they were casting a net into the lake. When He summoned them to follow Him and fish for people, verse 18 says, At once they left their nets and followed him. Maybe they just handed them to their assistants, or maybe they put them away neatly. Mark gives the impression that not much time lapsed between Jesus' summons and their departure. The impression grows even more vivid in the case of James and John.

When Jesus found them, they were in a boat, preparing their nets. When He summoned them to follow Him, verse 20 says they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him. We don't know if their father protested or if his jaw dropped or if they had prepared him for the possibility of their leaving. We do know their departure was so abrupt that their father was left sitting in the boat, presumably trying to figure out how to do the same amount of work with two less people.

Those four men not only left their gainful employment at Jesus' behest, but the prompt manner in which they did so bore further witness to authority Jesus exercised over people – the kind of authority you need, if you are going to start a revolution. Mark adds one more small touch, a kind of grace note, that points to the authority of the King who had appeared in Galilee.

Verse 18 says, At once they left their nets. Verse 20 says, Without delay they left their father Zebedde. At once and without delay translate the same Greek word. Greek was the language in which Mark originally wrote this gospel. This Greek word occurs 51 times in the New Testament. Forty of them occur in the Gospel of Mark, eleven of them here in capter one.

In the KJV this little word is translated as straightway or immediately. In the RSV it is translated nearly every time as immediately. The NIV, unfortunately, uses several different English words to translate it, or it does not translate the word at all; so, you miss the force of the word. The frequence of this little word in Mark usually creates an atmosphere, which conveys the promptness with which we obey someone of great authority. The behavior of the first four disciples illustrates this reality.

What do you say about a man who can get other men to behave like that? I would say he is winsome and persuasive. But you and I are not interested in the psychology of leadership. We are interested in the kingdom of God. Whenever we hear about the kingdom of God, two words need to come at once to mind: authority and love. The kingdom of God means the exercise of God's authority over ever increasing circles of human life in love. We have not yet come to the part about love.

We have definitely come to the part about authority. A man who can get other men to abandon their source of livelihood and follow him is a man who has authority where it counts – with people. As I said, the scale is still small, but the action of those fishermen bears witness to the kind of authority you need, if you are going to start a revolution.

I asked a few minutes ago if you thought I was stretching a point to say Jesus wants us to go catch people the way those fishermen caught fish. It was a rhetorical question; I did not give you a chance to answer me. I think I know you well enough to say that most of you agreed with me that Jesus very much wants us to catch people. Now, I need to ask you another question but this time give you a chance to respond.

Do you think I am stretching a point to say that Jesus' exercise of authority in the lives of those fishemen can be exercised in the lives of us here today? I say that it can and that is has been so exercised here. But what do you say? If you say, "Yes, it can," then let me pursue with you a very practical implication of His authority among us.

In a sense you have put yourself at risk by being here, because by being here you may feel the force of Christ's authority interrupting your plans and turning your life in a direction you had not anticipated and do not necessarily welcome – at least not right away. I would like to push the envelope a little further and in a particular direction.

Who here senses Christ calling you to leave your cheery and perfectly honorable way of life and fish for people? Where among us are the pastors, evangelists, theologians, Christian educators, and missionaries? You may be very young, but you can hear the call of Christ.

The great Jeremiah, when God called him to be a prophet in Israel, said, "Ah, Sovereign Lord, I do not know how to speak; I am only a child," (Jer. 1:6). The Lord said to him, "Do not say, I am only a child.' You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you," (Jer. 1:7). I was nine or ten years old when I first said, "I want to be a pastor when I grow up."

Let me put the same question a different way. If your son or daughter said to you, "Dad, mom, I think Christ wants me to be a pastor or a missionary," how would you respond to that? Would you affirm your child and get on your knees together and ask Christ to guide him or her into whatever ministry Christ chose? Would you be willing to alter your aspirations for your son and daughter? Or would your first concern be that they'll never make any money doing that?

When James and John decided to step out of that fishing boat and leave their father in it, right in the middle of a workday, it said something not only about James and John but also about Mr. Zebedee. Mark did not tell Mr. Zebedee's story; he left him on the margins of this greatest story ever told. But what an intriguing margin! He does not appear to have gone clambering after them, begging them not to leave him and the family business. He did the hard thing: he let them go. Would you do that?

Where among us are the pastors, evangelists, theologians, Christian educators, and missionaries? Are you prepared to declare yourselves publicly? I am going to ask you who may sense Christ's summons to be pastor, evangelist, theologian, Christian educator, or missionary to make a move right now.

We are going to see All for Jesus, all the verses. As we sing, if you are prepared to acknowledge openly that King Jesus' authority may be calling you to give yourself to Him and His Church as a pastor, evangelist, theologian, Christian educator, or missionary, step out of the pew and come and stand here. At the end of the song, I will read scripture and pray, as others come and stand in support of your calling.