"Come after me"
Each year we read one of the three gospels Matthew, Mark and Luke. We get large slabs of John in Lent and Easter.
This year we will be reading through Marks gospel. It is the shortest of the gospels and was designed to be read out loud to a congregation.
In Mark’s gospel the figure of Jesus is an irrepressible and energetic person who bounds swiftly from one incident to another. No wonder Mark is represented as a lion and if you look closely at the pulpit in Christchurch Hamilton you will spot the lion. To accentuate this, the phrase “and immediately” is used no less 41 times in the short gospel of Mark. Look out for it this year.
Further this industrious and spritely Jesus goes blithely and swiftly from one incident to the next episode, seemingly with little regard for the confusion and bewilderment that he leaves behind.
In today's gospel it reads as though the 4 fishermen were parked close together on the same beach and were all called on the same day. The reality was probably quite different. But what of poor old Zebedee who apparently within the space of a 10 second conversation, finds himself without 2 of his leading hands. In fact we don’t hear anything more about Zebedee for the rest of Mark's gospel. For Mark’s purposes, the call of his sons James and John is the important bit.
The usual translation of Jesus' invitation is “come follow me” but I happened to stumble across a slightly different translation. “Come after me.” Now that puts a totally different perspective on things.
It could mean ‘Come after me’ in time and that is certainly true of us. We come much later. A couple of 1000 years later in fact. But at a deeper level the words ‘Come after me’ evoke a sense of tease or of dare. “Come after me”. An invitation to dance, to chase, to try and catch up. If we think of it in this sense, we come to understand that Jesus often seems elusive, almost mischievous, almost as if He knows that the more we chase, the more we want Him and the more we will enjoy Him in those rare moments when sometimes He seems so very, very close. In those rare moments the Master is like an ethereal bubble. There, but not really there. The bubble pops just as quickly as it arrived. Then He is gone again and we are left wanting Him more than ever. Bewildered and be-puzzled we are left scratching our head and realising that He was not where we expected Him to be. Then we are fired in the chase, and we start the search again. Come after me.
Perhaps there is a sense in which we are always playing catch up with Jesus. We get close and we think we understand; that we finally have our brain around one small piece of the puzzle. That He is near. And then just when He is at our fingertips, He streaks ahead, laughing and playfully invites us to come after Him once more. And far from despairing, we giggle and come after him in our limping stumbling, tottering way just as a toddler comes after their parent. With arms outstretched with hope and joy, knowing that an embrace is always there for the taking and the asking. Come after me.
It is when others sense the urgency, vitality and purposefulness of our pursuit, that they just might begin to wonder what all the fuss is about. It is your vocation and mine to invite them along in this game called “Come after me”.
And there are moments when the pace seems frantic and our brains and hearts go into overdrive and there are times when we lie down in green pastures beside still waters and He spreads a table for us. Then we just sit quietly and feast in his presence. Come after me. We are called to make a conscious, intentional response to come after Him.
This is a choice. To work at a living relationship with the Living Christ. It is not inherited, it is not accidental, it is not a written contract on a bit of paper with a sunset clause and a use by date. In another place Jesus will offer an implement to help you on your way with this journey. If anyone wants to come after me he must….Come after me.
Sometimes in this game, it is us who need to do the asking. Just like Matthew the tax collector did. "I’m having a dinner party tonight Jesus with some of my dearest and dodgy friends. I’m hoping that you might come along." Come after me.
But with affection, the thing I come back to, is an image of The Master walking along a golden beach on a bright sunshiny day. Me, self absorbed in something that is about to become redundant. I just don’t know it yet. He stops close by. I turn and look up. With a twinkle in his eye and a winning smirk, He says “Come after me”. And immediately, in a heartbeat, I am there. I am walking away from everything that is familiar and I am already home.