Don Friesen
I recently became a fan of the "Pickles" comic strip, a strip featuring Earl and Opal Pickles, and their grandson, Nelson. The grandfather in the strip is gently mischievous; the grandmother is gently caustic; and the grandson is wisely indulgent of his grandparents. In one strip Grandpa woke up from his nap and said to his grandson: "Do you hear that?" ... "Listen, do you hear that? It's the call of the open road. Let's follow it." They get into the car and follow the call into an open horizon, and the last panel shows the two sitting at a table enjoying ice cream cones, and the grandson asks, "Grandpa, how come the call of the open road always ends at the ice cream parlour?"
I think I like this comic strip because after fifty years of marriage there isn't much that fazes Earl and Opal. Theirs is a simple life, and their delight is in simple things.
I am also taken with the simplicity of our gospel text. Jesus went for a stroll on the beach, saw two fishermen struggling with nets, and said, "‘Follow me, and I will make you fish for people.' Immediately they left their nets and followed him," says Matthew. (Matthew 4:19-20) Simon and Andrew, the two fishermen, were brothers. It wasn't long before Jesus spotted another set of fisher-brothers, James and John; they were "in the boat with their father Zebedee, mending their nets, and (Jesus) called them. Immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed him," reports Matthew. (4:21-22)
Line-Fishing or Net-Fishing?
There's nothing particularly complex or even strategic about Jesus' efforts to recruit disciples. It's clear that he is not a "Lone Ranger" and that his vision involves a group, but his call is a simple one, and it is met with a simple response.
Now, some commentators have tried to complicate this simple story with "red herrings," so to speak. Some ponder long and hard over the immediacy of the disciples' response. Some wonder whether perhaps their response was prompted by a kind of reason foreign to us, a kind of reason that is different from the familiar triad of knowing, doing, and feeling. The thinking of the disciples does not appear to be the kind of calculative thinking mediated by a cost/benefit analysis. Some point out that their response may have been more of an intuitive response. Perhaps it's an intuitive reaction based more on "being known" than "knowing," per se.
Perhaps. And perhaps the immediacy of the response sticks in our craw because few of us would immediately drop anything to follow anybody! Reasonable people that we are, we would wrestle with the call and, if possible, delay our response. We'd ask for all the details of the program and want confirmation of parts that seemed dubious to us. We'd point out to Jesus all the other work we have to do, and all the obligations we have, and ask how these fit in with his call.
Whatever the meaning of immediacy in our text, I don't know that it matters much. Some of us make life changes gradually, while others can turn around on a dime. Likewise in the New Testament: The four fishermen made quick decisions, perhaps in rhythm with the sudden shifts of weather that determined so much about their profession. Nicodemus, on the other hand, took his time in responding to Jesus. He appears to be a gradual disciple, starting off as curious but tentative (John 3), and only later becoming more committed and public about his response to Jesus. (John 7:50; 19:39)
One would also think fishing a fairly simple exercise and an easily-understood analogy, but one commentator says that it's easily misunderstood by us, pointing out that many of us come to this story with an image of line-fishing. ("Fishing in the New Testament: A Misunderstood Analogy for Evangelism," by Daniel B. Wallace, Biblical Studies Foundation) When we think of fishing we think of an individual with a fishing pole, a reel, a line and a baited hook. The kind of fishing envisioned in the gospel, however, is net-fishing. The image of using a lure and a line--and waiting for the fish to bite--is foreign to this text. Since commentary on this metaphor often becomes discussion about evangelism, one may conclude that Jesus is not speaking about using the right kind of bait, or "hooking" the unbeliever with the gospel and "reeling in" your catch. The fishing enterprise, spiritually speaking, is not a laid-back individualistic activity, but a labour-intensive group activity.
I get the point, and I like the point, but we don't have to make every metaphor walk on all fours! Fish were caught, killed, cooked, and eaten! I don't suggest Christians adopt this as a method of evangelism! I prefer the simplicity of Jesus' approach. There's no mention of four spiritual laws. There's no plan of salvation laid out. There's no power-point presentation, no glossy 8-by-10's. There's no particular rationale given to follow Jesus, and I find it appealing because it puts the focus where it should be--on Jesus!
Simplicity Gives way to Complexity
Unfortunately, the simplicity doesn't last long, even in the New Testament! It isn't long before Jesus meets some would-be followers who have more questions than commitment. (Matthew 8:18-22) Then Jesus brings Levi on-side; calling inoffensive fisher-folk to follow him is one thing, but many took grave offense at the inclusion of a tax collector in the group. I don't think it accidental that Jesus told his parable of the sower (13:18-23), for it describes well the various responses to Jesus and his followers. Some, whether they responded immediately or not, were like seeds that fell along the path, their commitment and roots so shallow that their longevity was short, just like their attention span. Some, like seeds on rocky ground, began with a burst of enthusiasm, but just didn't last long. Others, like seeds among thorns, were distracted.
The group dynamics themselves get a little complicated, as some members of the group lobby for a pecking order to be established. (18:1-5) Then James and John's mother intervenes, and asks Jesus to appoint her two sons deputy prime ministers of the group (20:20-28), which probably didn't go over very well with the other members of the group. And we know all about the events in Jerusalem, as one disciple after another fell away or ran away. While the response of some disciples was an immediate one, the following three years were a roller coaster ride of confusion, doubts, breakthroughs, fall backs, and internal bickering for power!
A Corinthian Comic Sketch?
One would think things would have settled down after the resurrection, when Jesus' followers could put their experience into the perspective of Christ's suffering and resurrection. They then had all of his stories to recall and guide them, and they could also benefit from a decade or more of reflection by those who had followed Jesus and thought a lot about the long-term implications of his vision.
One might think so, but if our reading from 1 Corinthians is any indication, it's not so! Someone (Wes Stanton) has suggested that our passage from 1 Corinthians should be read with the help of a laugh track! If I could be convinced that the Apostle Paul had a sense of humour, this passage would read as divinely-inspired parody! Imagine:
A colleague (Norm Story) tells the story, a true story, of a church on the outskirts of Boston that made quite a splash in the news some time ago. The congregation's new minister had made some serious mistakes, precipitating the polarization of the leaders and congregants into two hostile camps--those who supported the pastor, and those who wanted him removed. The board called for a congregational meeting to be held, but the pastor conveniently kept forgetting to announce it. Finally, one Sunday, during the announcements and greetings, one of the frustrated deacons marched up to the front, angrily grabbed the microphone, and announced a congregational meeting to vote on removing the pastor.
Some say that then the deacon tripped on the microphone cord, while others insist that the pastor pushed him. Whatever the case, when the deacon got back up he took a swing at the pastor, whose lapel microphone broadcast the violent impact. The pastor's wife screamed, and ran to help her husband, whereupon quite a few other members of the congregation got into the fray as well. There was angry shouting, punching, and shoving, all up at the front next to the table upon which were the words, "Do this in remembrance of me."
Some folks got hurt as they tried to separate combatants, while the organist tried to restore order by loudly banging out "Blest Be the Tie that Binds," but the church brawl only ended when the police arrived. A few days later, when the deacons and pastor appeared before a magistrate, the magistrate stared at them all, shook his head in shock and disbelief, and said to them, "There must be some way you can settle your dispute among yourselves. No charges will be filed at this point, but I urge you to work out this matter within your own church. Your Jesus Christ may allow this sort of thing in his followers but the Commonwealth of Massachusetts will not permit fist-fighting as a regular order of church service."
A simple call to follow Jesus seems to become exceedingly complex as soon as it involves more than one person! I don't think Paul was chuckling when he wrote, "...it has been reported to me... that there are quarrels among you.... What I mean is that each of you says, ‘I belong to Paul,' or ‘I belong to Apollos,' or ‘I belong to Cephas,' or ‘I belong to Christ.'" (1 Corinthians 1:11-12) "Has Christ been divided?" asks Paul. (1:13)
It's a little discouraging when one realizes that this admonition is found in the first chapter of only the second New Testament epistle! William Barclay, a student of the New Testament, speculates as to the nature of the Corinthian divisions, saying that those who claimed to belong to Paul were probably Gentiles who had found the gospel of Christian freedom so exciting that they were not always cognizant of liberty's limits!
The party who claimed to belong to Apollos may have been people attracted to his eloquence and Scriptural knowledge. Apollos came from Alexandria, a centre of intellectual activity where scholars could make exceedingly complex constructions out of the simplest things. They had made a science of allegorizing the Scriptures and intellectualizing their faith.
Those who claimed to belong to Cephas were most likely Jews, with deep loyalty to the Jewish law and its strict observance. Their high view of law placed severe limits upon grace, so it was hard for them to cut anyone any slack.
Then there were those who claimed to belong to Christ. There may have been such a group, or perhaps Paul was just being sarcastic, a little like the boy who turned down an invitation to worship with a friend's family, saying, "I belong to a different abomination."
Whatever the nature of the various factions in the Corinthian congregation, it is clear that their congregational life had serious flaws and fissures running through it that inhibited and eroded their unity, and thus their Christian witness.
Forces that Lend Cohesion to a Group
There is some wisdom to the old adage, "United we stand, divided we fall," and anyone responsible for a group, be it a small family or a large group, gives considerable thought and energy to nurturing the unity of the group. And churches have relied on a variety of forces to keep congregations together. Some churches rely on ethnic ties, ties of language and customs and kinship. And while this counts for much, sociologically, theologically, it doesn't amount to a hill of beans! What happens when someone of a different ethnic group, speaking a different language, and enjoying other customs, wants to join the ethnic group, thinking, by mistake, that it's a church? I heard of a Mennonite congregation whose members, realizing that it's hard to justify, on biblical grounds, an ethno-centred church, established a sports club where it was easier to restrict membership to those who spoke Low German!
Ethnicity is also no guarantee of immunity from fragmentation, and one has only to read a little Anabaptist history to realize this is so.
Another force that can lend cohesion to a group is a common history. Significant events can help tie a group together. The Mennonites who experienced the terror of the Bolsheviks have a bond that those of us who were born in North America will never understand. Mennonites who did alternative service during World War II also have a special bond. Those of us who were part of OMC in 1986, when we had three funerals, one right after the other after seven years without a funeral, share an experience that is part of the history and fabric of this congregation. One of the harsh realities OMC faces is that in a congregation as transient as ours our common experiences are limited to whatever happened in the last three years!
Yet another force that can help a group be more than a loose collection of free-thinkers is the power of a charismatic leader. One individual (Donald Sensing), recalling his army experience, remembers serving with an infantry lieutenant colonel who simply oozed charisma. In contrast to other officers whose men followed them merely from curiosity about what mistakes they would make next, this man inspired his peers and subordinates with confidence simply by showing up. He recalls, "I remember encountering him one day on the sidewalk. I saluted him as we passed, he gave me the greeting of the day and we walked on. But for a fleeting moment I had a powerful urge simply to turn around and follow him: ‘Where ya going, colonel?' ‘Well, captain, I'm going to the motor pool to lie down in front of tanks while they run over me.' ‘Sounds good to me! Can I come too?'" Such is the power of charisma.
Last week Anne Wieler gave me an article about a Canadian preacher (Maurice Boyd) whom many admire. The New York Times once declared him the world's "foremost Protestant orator". After pastoring a church in Canada for many years, this man was wooed to New York, there to lead a wealthy congregation with a $40 million endowment and willing to pay him a reputed $150,000 salary! (Larry Krotz, "Fighting Words," Saturday Post, January 19, 2002) Even if those were Canadian dollars, you could almost put your children through university with a salary like that!
No doubt the New York congregation had issues of its own to sort out, but I do not consider it a sign of congregational health when a congregation stakes too much of its vitality and appeal on leadership. One could almost predict the inevitable clash of egos in New York, but the pastor in question seems to have learned very little from the experience and has let another group establish a church based largely on his charisma.
I know of congregations that have evaporated as soon as their leader disappeared. They were vital and thriving congregations while under charismatic leadership but far too dependent upon the leadership to survive. And one has only to remember extreme examples such as the Jonestown mass suicide to encourage some resistance to charismatic leadership.
Mennonite theology and congregational practise inhibit excessive reliance upon leaders, though at times we are also compelling evidence of the weaknesses of democracy.
Any congregation--any group--requires sufficient cohesion to survive, but the force of cohesion should be such that it will not cave in on itself.
The Centripetal Call of Christ
I have no doubt that Jesus had charisma, and when he called those fishermen to follow him there may well have been some personal chemistry that drew those men to Jesus. No doubt there was an attraction, a winsomeness about Jesus that drew people to him. His personality, his simple parables, and his compassionate actions were inviting! It wasn't by accident that he attracted crowds. It wasn't by accident that he attracted the deep loyalty of twelve disciples, a loyalty that endured misunderstanding and even denial! It's not by accident that upon his memory was built the Church, which through twenty centuries has preserved and proclaimed the significance of his life, death and resurrection.
Jesus Christ is most definitely at the centre of Christian life and witness, but I think he calls us to more than adoration of him. I daresay he could have been just as influential in his day if he had abandoned his efforts at calling followers. What did his followers possibly add to his message, to his appeal, or to his impact? More often than not they got in his way and distracted from the point being made. Why did he spend hours and hours teaching them, training them, and sending them out on their own? I think he did so because when he called these individuals to follow him, it wasn't just a call to follow him! It was a call to community! After all, what credibility does a message of love have if it's not incarnated in a network of relationships?
Much discussion about Christian witness assumes that faith is a centrifugal force. One of the synonyms for witness that we often use is the word, "outreach". An appropriate, if irreverent image might be that of congregation-as-spinning-top, our whirling round of activities resulting in all kinds of redemptive spin-offs, like good works, good feelings, good do-gooders! The argument is that a congregation should look beyond itself. It's a strong argument, certainly one that has convinced many a church to do mission, requiring, of course, someone to whom it be done! Faith as a centrifugal force conjures up images of each of us being flung out of orbit, dispersed into disunity, into a myriad of fragments with little connection to each other.
I would rather think of the call of Christ as a centripetal call. A centripetal force is one that moves us toward the centre. I find the thought of being drawn in far more compelling than the thought of being thrown out! Consider, for example, the two texts read just before the sermon. They describe two congregations, the one congregation, one can deduce, quarrelsome, divisive, given to factionalism and party spirit, with frequent disagreements, and frequently working at cross-purposes. The other congregation, as we can deduce from the psalm, is characterized by a positive attitude. Focussed on God, confident of God's protection and help, the psalmist cannot help but express joy in the company of his brothers and sisters; in fact, he says, "One thing I asked of the Lord, that will I seek after: to live in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple." (Psalm 27:4) Which congregation would attract you? The one rife with tension? Or the one full of joy and delight and encouraging inquiry? People are drawn to Christ because they see his love exemplified in a congregation!
There is, of course, one way to avoid disunity, and that is to minimize contact with your brothers and sisters. Or seek out only those who don't contradict you. Most of us, however, want to hear, and respond to the whole call of Christ. Most of us are serious enough about being disciples that we're willing to set aside our naivete about the perfect church, and are willing to try and try and try again to work together, no matter how many congregational meetings it takes, no matter how long the meetings, and no matter how frustrating the meetings.
I hope I don't sound too boastful when I say that our church choir sounds good! It's not a large choir, but they're all talented and they practice faithfully, and in so doing lead us very ably in worship. Our choir also sounds good, however, because its individual members listen to each other. The various distinctive voices blend with each other; they sing, not in competition, but in wondrous harmony! Their focus is not on individual talent or performance, but in combining their voices to glorify and honour God.
You may have heard a choir director say, "If you can't hear the voices beside you, then you're singing too loud!" That's true in the church as well; congregational harmony requires, first of all, that we sing--participate, in other words. Congregational harmony also requires that we listen to each other, and tailor our hearts, our attitudes, and our behaviour to blend together. The distinctive voices are not erased; rather, they blend together to create something grander and more beautiful than anything we could do on our own. Perhaps that's why the psalmist wrote, "How very good and pleasant it is when (we) live together in unity!" (Psalm 133:1)
"Now I appeal to you, brothers and sisters, by the name of our Lord Jesus Christ, that all of you be in agreement... (chuckles) ...and that there be no divisions among you... (more chuckles) ...but that you be united... (laughter) ...in the same mind... (loud laughter) ...and the same purpose.... (uproarious laughter)" (1 Corinthians 1:10)
I doubt, however, that Paul intended his words as humour, but when one realizes how far some congregations are from this reality it elicits the kind of nervous energy that easily moves one to laughter, then to tears!
All quotations of Scripture, unless otherwise noted, are from the New Revised Standard Version.