Tangled

I had a magic couch in my basement growing up. In the universe of make-believe that my sister and I created, that beat-up, old couch transformed into so many things: a castle, a spaceship, a stage for our plays. One day, that couch was a boat on the water, as my little sister and I threw a big crocheted blanket over the side “fishing” for the Beanie Babies strewn on the floor. I was so captivated and immersed in our imaginary work, that my grandmother’s voice didn’t even register at first. But when I realized she was calling us upstairs for dinner, I leapt to my feet and jumped towards the stairs…only to fall flat on my face with my toes tangled up in the “net” I was leaving behind in the “boat.”

I was fine. My ego was probably bruised more than my body. But I sometimes think of that day when I read today’s Gospel.

 I wonder what would’ve happened if Peter and Andrew or James and John had gotten tangled up in their nets when they heard Jesus call them. On a frivolous level, I’ve gotta say I love the mental image of the Prince of the Apostles tumbling into the water like I fell off that make-believe boat as a kid. But biblical slapstick comedy aside, just imagine if the disciples were so wrapped up in what they were doing, that when they tried to get up and answer God’s call, they were caught and held captive by the tools of their trade.

I don’t just mean physically. Imagine if the concerns and commitments of their lives in the world had held the disciples back from following Jesus. Mark’s version of the Gospel has a rapid pace and an urgent tone, repeating the word ‘immediately’ more than any of the others. And that urgency can make us prone to forget the weight of the life the disciples were leaving behind and how easily that could have held them back, like nets caught on their feet. The disciples give up a lot to go follow Jesus.

Giving up everything to answer Christ’s call seems a lot more straightforward when the things we give up and leave behind are clearly bad for us or for others—ego, exploitation, vices, and violence. They might be hard to leave behind, and we might not be great at staying away from them. But they at least make sense as bad things that we should set aside in order to pursue the good things God calls us to.

The repentance of Nineveh today is a good example. Sure, we wouldn’t necessarily expect a powerful Gentile empire to respond to God’s prophet and repent, especially not as quickly as the people of Nineveh do. But they were repenting—leaving sins behind. The disciples, on the other hand, are leaving behind really good things! They were earning a living and supporting their families, fulfilling God’s commandment to honor father and mother. Who could have blamed them if they’d gotten tangled up in their focus on that life—that genuinely good life—and fallen headfirst when Jesus called them?

Could you have left everything behind—setting aside not just sins but truly good things and leaping up to follow Jesus immediately?

 I have a hard time imagining hearing that call and not getting tangled up in my concerns and commitments. It’s hard enough letting go of destructive things in order to answer God’s call. But in asking us to set aside even good things to follow Jesus, it feels like the Gospel is asking the impossible of us. And this goes for the whole of our Scriptures, really. Paul, for example, honestly sounds kind of crazy in the epistle today. He doesn’t just ask the Corinthians to be ready to let go of their families like the Apostles. Paul says that even those who mourn and rejoice should live as though they weren’t mourning or rejoicing! Those who deal with the world should be as though they had no dealings with it. He seems to be urging the Corinthians (and us) to let go completely—to embrace a radical kind of detachment—because of Christ’s call to follow him, to repent and believe that the Kingdom is near.

Exhortations like this can sound like condemnations of the world, as though the stuff of daily life were evil. As though, if we were “real Christians,” we’d cast aside families and jobs—even mourning and rejoicing—like nets that were only there to ensnare and entangle us, keeping us from following Christ. But the commitment and concerns of life aren’t bad. Having loving family relationships, meaningful work, engagement with the world are all really good things. And much of Scripture deals with how our lives in the world are an integral part of God’s plan of salvation.

But the challenge we hear in Scripture today is a challenge to remember not to let that good keep us from responding to and following after the better. The things of this life—the concerns and commitments that pervade the present form of the world—are part of the beautiful bounty of Creation. And yet, these good things are not the best things. They’re not ends in themselves. The message Jesus proclaims and that Paul echoes, is that something better is coming. The Kingdom of God has come near. The appointed time approaches, and the present form of the world is passing away. Mark and Paul remind us that dinner is being prepared upstairs. In the midst of life we await the call of the Kingdom—the call to jump up and leave the good things of our lives now to follow Jesus and join him in gathering up something even better than the “fish” and “Beanie Babies” we’re focused on now.

We need to be ready to answer this call and follow Christ. And that means we have to be mindful about our relationship with the concerns of life and the present form of the world. Like nets, they can bring in bountiful blessings. But like nets, they can also hinder us, if we are so focused on mending and tending them, that we get tangled up in the concerns of the world when we hear Jesus call and jump up to follow him. We can get so absorbed in the wealth we store up, the relationships we relish, and the projects we pursue that when the call of the Kingdom comes, we’re unable to set aside those good things and seek after the better things, joining Jesus in gathering all of Creation into the Kingdom of God. Even if we want to answer the call, it can be easy to get wrapped up in lesser goods and fall face-first when we try to chase after the best.

I’m not saying that we all need to separate ourselves from the concerns of this life and the present form of the world. There are some whose vocation as disciples involves such a radical sacrifice. That’s the heart of the religious or monastic life—the life of monks and nuns who give up family and private possessions to focus on a life of prayer and service. This is a vital witness that we can all learn from. But Paul doesn’t tell the Corinthians to all abandon their spouses or isolate themselves from the rest of the world. What he does say is that even as they go about their lives in the world—as they gather fish or families or Beanie Babies or what have you—they should live as though the present form has already passed away.

All of us are called to live as though the Kingdom truly is near at hand—as though Jesus is real and what we do here really does matter. We are called to live our lives as though we know that these Beanie Babies and fish, as good as they are, are preludes to something infinitely better. We are called to imitate the Apostles in tending our nets in such a way that when we hear Jesus’ voice, we can put them down and jump out of the boat.

The time is fulfilled, and the Kingdom of God has come near. So, look at your feet, friends. Look at the nets that you tend and mend in your daily lives. Are you tangled up in them? Or could you set them aside and answer readily the call to believe and follow Jesus into the Kingdom?