One of the first questions you have to ask
about a passage of Scripture is this: Who’s
this story about? Where’s the spotlight
shining? Well, about today’s Gospel
reading, most often we approach it as a story about Peter, Andrew, James, and
John. After all, we name churches after
these guys. And it’s their action that
gives the story its drama. There they
are, fishermen out fishing, spending another day trying to provide for their families
and make ends meet in a system that’s wired against them … because the scholars
will tell you they aren’t out there as small-business men but as contract
agents working for the Roman occupiers, assigned a quota of fish to give the authorities.1 Anyway, these guys are minding their own
business, trying to feed their families and keep the Romans off their backs,
when Jesus shows up and calls them to join him.
And they respond, following him right then and there. So, isn’t this a story about them?
You’d think so. But instead, I think it’s more a story about the
new king in town, the new emperor representing a higher authority in this
outpost of the Roman Empire. Even though
he doesn’t do all that much in the story, it’s really about Jesus.
We can see that from the quotation from
the Book of Isaiah that Matthew drops in.
Why does he do that? It seems
like it just interrupts the flow, right?
But it matters to Matthew that Jesus is fulfilling the prophecies and
hopes of the Jewish people; so in his Gospel, he does this 14 times, pointing
out how something Jesus does shows God making good on the covenant to deliver
and restore Israel. So, Matthew reminds
the Jewish people hearing this story that God had promised to bring light and
hope to people sitting “in darkness” in the area where Jesus is now making his home
(4:16) – Capernaum by the Sea of Galilee.
Back in Isaiah’s day, 700 years earlier, another foreign power, the Assyrians,
had conquered the Jewish people in this area and set up their empire. But God promised through Isaiah, as we heard
in the first reading today, that God would make that land “glorious” (Isaiah 9:1). And how?
By bringing to the throne a king who would rule with the goodness and
justice and the geographic scope of King David, someone who would reestablish
God’s dominion in “Galilee of the Gentiles” (Matt 4:16). Well, with Jesus moving to this area, now
occupied by the Romans, Matthew sees God’s ancient purposes being realized 700 years
later. Jesus is making good on Isaiah’s
promise that God’s kingdom would return there, bringing light and life not just
to the Jewish residents but to all the people living under foreign oppression. And when God’s kingdom comes among them, the
people in “Galilee of the Gentiles” will see divine light dawning in this “region
and shadow of death” (Matt 4:16).
Then, Matthew continues, Jesus starts proclaiming
what God has sent him to proclaim – that “the kingdom of heaven has come near”
(4:17). In fact, the kingdom of heaven
is coming near in him. Of course,
Matthew knows, and we know, this won’t be the kind of kingdom that Israel
used to know, hundreds of years earlier, one with a human king sitting on a
throne and ruling as God’s viceroy on earth.
Instead of being a geographic kingdom, the “kingdom of heaven” Jesus proclaims
is a state of being – the reign and rule of God revealing itself to be so much
more powerful even than the reign and rule of Caesar and all his armies. Jesus may not be the kind of king they were
expecting – just the opposite, in fact.
He’s a king who’s come from the bottom rung of society and who hangs out
with the folks the powerful people want to ignore. But by quoting the passage from Isaiah,
Matthew is signaling that Jesus is God’s true king true anyway, that the
prophecy is indeed being fulfilled. God’s
just establishing the “kingdom of heaven” in a really surprising way.
And then Jesus comes to the Sea of Galilee
and encounters these fishermen. Their
response to him has always seemed odd to me.
Could you imagine just dropping everything, even literally dropping the
tools of your trade, and following someone who comes and calls you? How could that happen? Now, it’s not like they were leaving a
lucrative, well-respected profession.
Fishermen were “despised” in their society, one commentator says,2
and they were lucky to eke out a living after turning over much of their catch
to the Romans. But still: Jesus comes to Peter and Andrew and says, “Follow
me, and I will make you fish for people” (Matt 4:19) – and they do it. For James and John, it’s even harder to
believe. They’re working with their
father, Zebedee, and the minute Jesus calls them away from the boat, Zebedee “loses
his workforce and his retirement plan,” says a commentator.3 So much for “honor[ing] your father,” as the fifth
commandment requires (Exodus 20:12). Plus,
to make the situation just that much harder to understand, Jesus hasn’t even healed
anyone yet or cast out any demons – so it’s not like these fishermen were wowed
by his miracles.
But clearly, they’re wowed by
something. And I think it goes back to
what Matthew is telling us in that reference to the ideal king of Israel. Jesus is proclaiming that the reign and rule
of God has come among them – in fact that they’re standing in the midst of
it. He is God’s ideal king, the
one promised to come from the “house and lineage of David” (Luke 2:4 KJV). And it turns out that these nobodies in the
boat are indeed somebodies after all, despite how the world sees them. If Jesus is God’s ideal king, these four
fishermen are the king’s ideal subjects.
They know a divine command when they hear it.
So, maybe it’s worth considering this question:
In today’s reading, who’s choosing whom?
We’re used to choices lying with us.
We live in a society where the rugged individual reigns supreme. Much of the energy and commerce in our society
centers on persuading millions of rugged individuals to make particular choices,
choices that determine whether businesses or political parties or churches will
continue as going concerns. Everywhere
we look, someone or something is asking us to choose this rather than that,
recognizing that, in our market economy, the power rests with each of us.
So, one reason we may have trouble
understanding these disciples is that their world is upside down – or ours is. In the world of Matthew’s Gospel, Peter,
Andrew, James, and John are individuals, to the extent we know their names. But we know nothing about them, other than
their “despised” profession and their social class. And the story tells us nothing about their
motivations: What led them to choose
Jesus over fishing? Why was he
persuasive? Why was his deal the best
deal? The story isn’t concerned with any
of that. Instead, the story comes from the
opposite point of view. It’s not about
these fisherman and their power to choose; it’s about Jesus and his authority
to call. The king has come, announcing
his reign as God’s viceroy on earth. And
the king has chosen them. They
are soldiers deployed on a mission. If
they did have a response that the story omits, that response was simply,
“Sir, yes sir.”
So, for us, the question isn’t so much, “What
would have made me leave my business and follow Jesus?” Instead, the question is this: How will I respond to the reality, breaking
into my everyday existence, that God is the one truly reigning and
ruling over my world … and me? If that’s
true – and we proclaim we think it’s true every time we say the Lord’s Prayer –
if it’s true that we’re asking for God’s kingdom to come and God’s will to be
done on earth as it is in heaven – what does that mean for my life? When the king walks through your workplace or
your living room, when the king pops up on your social media feed alongside the
culture’s other “influencers,” and calls you to follow – what will you
say?
Like Peter and Andrew and James and John, we can’t say what that moment of calling will look like. But we can say to whom the call will come. The reign and rule of God looks like this: one nobody after another saying “yes” to the call to share divine love with other nobodies – focusing not on the Romans dominating our governance or the self-interested religious leaders telling us how to live, but focusing on the king who walks by, and calls us to put down the nets of our own making, and empowers us to come along and fish for people beside him.
1.
New International Study Bible, 1753 (note).
2.
NISB, 1753 (note).
3.
NISB, 1753 (note).
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