The 'Nowness' of Faith

And a hip new take on traditional religion.

Now after John was arrested, 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.”  

As Jesus passed along the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and his brother Andrew casting a net into the sea—for they were fishermen.  And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. As he went a little farther, he saw James son of Zebedee and his brother John, who were in their boat mending the nets.  Immediately he called them; and they left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men, and followed him.  (Mark 1:14-20, NRSV) 

When he heard that his cousin John, popularly known as John the Baptizer, was detained, he knew it was time: “Now after John was arrested, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God.” Why exactly he knew this was the time to start his ministry, we don’t know. But the arrest of John was the catalyst to get moving.

Mark’s use of the word now drives home this point—it’s the word Mark employs to signal the opening and essence of Jesus ministry.  Now is Jesus’ time to start announcing good news, thus now is the day of salvation for Galilee. It is suggested that now is the operative word in the Christian life.

The same urgency is seen in the calling of the first disciples.  Many commentators assume Jesus must have met these men previously and inspired them to follow him—there is some evidence for this in John 1.  So they were prepared to join him as soon as he told them it was time to do so.  But I like Mark’s version as it is.  

Jesus is just passing along and sees two fishermen, Simon and Andrew, and tells them, “Follow me.” What he meant by “I will make you fishers for people” is obscure at best. And yet, immediately they left their nets—left their identity, their livelihood, their security.  

Ditto with James and John.  In this case, Jesus seems to waste no time in small talk but immediately calls them to follow.  And without using the word immediately again, Mark makes it clear that they simply up and leave their families and servants without so much as a goodbye.  Perhaps they did give farewell embraces, but Mark’s point is about their immediate response to Jesus, and about the many good things—family, security, identity--they are leaving behind. 

(In this passage, Mark does not acknowledge the extraordinary family, security, and identity of those who respond to Jesus; that comes later (Mark 10:29-31). The point here is the stark, radical call of Jesus. But the weak hearted like me need to remember the promise as well!)

This is yet another passage that suggests there is a “nowness” and immediacy that is part and parcel of Christian faith. In the most socially awkward ways, Jesus warns us against making any excuse (“Let me bury my father, let me say goodby to family!”—Luke 12) before we we take up our cross and follow him. Even the call to pray and ponder is something that must not be put off. Nor the call to get up from prayer and help in the kitchen when it is time to do that.

The call of Jesus is often disguised as “Buddy, can you spare a dollar?” or the face of someone who needs a listening ear. However that call comes, it is assumed that now is the time for it to be obeyed. One might argue that according to Jesus not pride but sloth is the root of all evil.

The now of discipleship is not an anxious, fretful, or nervous now—the type of now one hears in the business world, a demanding now for actions and results—or else. The now of discipleship is more of a realization, that yes, this indeed is the time to do the next thing Jesus calls us to. When we’re at our best, we’re like children anxious to please, and when we’re done with one thing we’ve been asked to do, we look up and ask expectantly, “What would you like me to do now?”

Ah, but we’re not always at our best. We sometimes justify our procrastination by claiming that we’re not yet prepared—as if the disciples knew what they were in for.  Most of the time it’s just “I’ll get right to that after ….”

Let’s be fair to ourselves: it’s not always easy to discern Jesus’ immediate call. It’s a lifetime endeavor to learn to have ears to hear. But even those of us who are mostly deaf to Jesus sometimes hear his distinct call. And if we’re honest with ourselves, we know very well it is time to act.  

Now.  

In Defense of Dimes: a generous take on irony-pilled, Nietzschean, performative Catholicism, by Stephen G. Adubato (Cracks in Postmodernity).

This author identifies a small movement of avant-garde artists, writers, and so forth, who find themselves attracted to what others might consider the weirder aspects of traditional Catholicism.  As he notes later in the piece, many in the same crowd have a strange attraction to Anabaptist faith with its radical demands,, especially as expressed in the magazine The Plough, to which I happily subscribe.

This movement is an implicit critique of the church’s adoption of therapeutic culture—a biting critique made by Camille Paglia in the context of the Catholic Church (which applies to Protestant faith as well): 

In a 1990 interview for America Magazine Paglia told Father James Martin SJ that, “If you go into any suburban Catholic church…the priest acts towards the parishioners as though we're all friends,” which she saw as a reflection of America’s broader “therapeutic culture.” She compared going to Mass in such parishes to “a Chamber of Commerce/guild hall…totally sanitized. What,” she asked, “does that do artistically and architecturally to the church?…Now we have this abomination in America of these shells of the old churches with these barbecue-pit interiors! These airline-terminal interiors. What does this do to young Catholics? I think it just removes any visual culture.” 

I don’t know what will become of those attracted to traditional Catholicism or radical Protestantism because they seem “cool” again—it is not beneath the Holy Spirit to use any and every means to bring people to deeper faith.  But it is an interesting development to watch. 

Grace and peace,

Mark

Photo credit: Detail of The Calling of the Apostles Peter and Andrew by Duccio di Buoninsegna (Source: Wikimedia Commons).