Epiphany 3 / Year B
This morning we
hear Jesus speak for the first time in Mark’s gospel. The text reads, “Jesus came to Galilee,
proclaiming the good news of God, and saying, ‘The time is fulfilled, and the
kingdom of God has come near; repent, and believe in the good news.’” He then invites several fishermen to follow
him and “immediately” they drop their nets and follow.
The “immediately”
is interesting because up until now we have been waiting for Jesus to say or do
anything. He has been baptized and gone
into the wilderness where he is tempted.
After 40 days he returns to Galilee, but does not seem to act. Mark tells us it is only after John the
Baptist is arrested that Jesus launches his ministry. In short, there has been a lot of
waiting. So much in fact, Jesus is the
embodiment of what we read in this morning’s psalm: “For God alone my soul in
silence waits.”
Waiting is not
something most of us do well. We sit
impatiently in waiting rooms, we wait in line, get put on call waiting (and its
evil cousin… being put on hold). The
renown theologian Tom Petty put it best, “The waiting is the hardest
part.” We are so conditioned to doing
everything efficiently and fast in order to obtain instant gratification that
we have lost sight of a truth Henri Nouwen held: “Waiting patiently in
expectation is the foundation of the spiritual life.” He observed how counter-cultural this is in a
world preoccupied with control. We want
what we want and we want it on our terms and we want it now! Jesus models something very different for us
as he waits until the time is right and the kingdom draws near.
The martyred San Salvadorian
Archbishop Oscar Romero offers us this counsel:
It helps, now and then, to step back and
take the long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny
fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work.
Nothing we do is complete,
which is another way of saying that
the Kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that should be said.
No prayer fully expressed our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church’s
mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes
everything.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further
development.
We provide yeast that produced effects far
beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything,
and there is a sense of liberation in
realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do
it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a
beginning,
a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord’s grace to
enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders,
ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future that is not our
own.
After three years of public ministry,
marked with healings and signs, it is sobering to realize when Jesus ascended
into heaven his loyal followers numbered around 50 people, which is not a lot
to show for all he said and did. Jesus
never built a church or a cathedral. He
never wrote a book, letter, or testament.
Even though he was a carpenter by trade, nothing of the work of his
hands endures. It will be up to others
to build on the foundation he lays. But
this we can say about him… he did what he was called to do and he did it very
well. And up until this moment in Mark’s
gospel, one of the things Jesus does very well is wait.
Barbara Brown Taylor notes, “Our waiting is
not nothing. It is something -- a very
big something -- because people tend to be shaped by whatever it is they are
waiting for.” Think about a seed in the
ground waiting all winter long for the days to lengthen and the warmth of the
sun’s rays to activate its growth. While
it waits it is not doing nothing. The
cool, moist earth is softening its outer shell so that when the time is right a
shoot can burst forth from its inner core where life is waiting patiently,
faithfully, trustingly to burst forth.
This last week our nation passed the
one-year anniversary of the first detected case of the coronavirus within our
borders. So much has changed so quickly
in our lives. We are tired and exhausted
and frustrated and disheartened waiting for it to end. While I am acutely aware of the toll it has
amassed, I sense only in part the beneficial ways this time of waiting is
changing us and shaping us. We have
found new ways to connect with one another.
We have accepted new individual responsibilities to contribute to the
common good of all. We have rediscovered
the ancient monastic practice of daily prayer and the reading of
Scripture. There is no getting back to
the way things used to be, there is only going forward as the people we are
becoming while we wait.
Maybe a part of what you are learning is
you are a worker, not a master builder; a minister, not a messiah. Maybe you a gaining a clearer understanding
of what you are to sow, how you are to tend, and when you are to reap; knowing
nothing you do is complete, but it is a step; a foundation in need of further
development. So many of us have had new
responsibilities thrust on us, especially parents and teachers. May you have a sense of what you are to do
and the ability to do it well. And never
forget the liberating realization you cannot do everything. Accepting this truth widens the portal for
God’s grace to enter your life, for God’s promise you will never lack for
anything you need.
During this unusual time I have so enjoyed
rummaging through the attic which is our Book of Common Prayer and finding
things packed away there I never knew before existed. At the top of my list of joyful discoveries
is the prayer for in the Morning on
page 461:
This is another
day, O Lord. I know not what it will
bring forth, but make me ready, Lord, for whatever it may be. If I am to stand up, help me to stand
bravely. If I am to sit still, help me
to sit quietly. If I am to lie low, help
me to do it patiently. And if I am to do
nothing, let me do it gallantly.
The word ‘gallant’ means stately, courageous, and brave. The majesty of this prayer is how it connects
what we typically think of as an activity with what we think of as being
passive - doing nothing… waiting. This
is how Jesus waited until the kingdom was at hand. It is how we wait now. Always remember our being gallant while doing
nothing is not wasted time. Things are
happening in us and to us and with us to prepare us for what is to come. Soon our Lord will call us to drop our nets
and follow, but for now we wait.
