Mark 1:14-20 “Thy Kingdom Come”
As we waited in our corrals in what was more middle of the night than early morning, we heard stories. Stories of perseverance, stories of hope. There was one gal who was interviewed on the first day. She boldly told the interviewer that today was the first day of her dopey challenge and the first day of her chemo radiation treatment. The interviewer asked, “What is it that drives you? What is it that gives you the strength to do this?” Not missing a beat, she replied, “If I can do this, then I know I can do anything.” Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy Kingdom come… Thy Kingdom come.
Author Barbara Brown Taylor has famously called this episode in Mark the “miracle on the beach.”[1] These fishermen have never met Jesus, and yet after hearing just two words from him, they immediately leave everything behind—friends, family, home, possessions, and livelihood—and follow him. What was it that drove these fishermen to leave everything behind and follow? What was it that gave them the strength to do this?
Ched Myers, in an article titled, “Let’s Catch Some Big Fish!” makes the case that fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were caught up in an elaborate, exploitative caste system. An ancient Egyptian papyrus from the period attests that “the fisher is more miserable than any other profession.” Roman poet Cicero regarded “fish sellers, butchers, cooks, poultry-raisers and fisherman” as the “most shameful occupations.”[2] Fishermen were considered the lowest of the low professions, and so Jesus’ invitation ushers in an opportunity for new life. Hear Jesus’ words, “Now is the time! Here comes God’s Kingdom! Change your hearts and lives and trust this good news!” Life in God’s Kingdom turns their world and ours upside down.
We began praying about God, heaven, holiness, and, suddenly, we find ourselves in the middle of a political argument about a kingdom. We have not prayed, “Bless my great nation” or “Lord, protect my family.” We pray “thy,” “your” Kingdom come. When he calls the disciples and when he teaches us to pray, he did not come seeking our disembodied individual spirits. He did not mean we would fish for people’s souls. Jesus calls us and the disciples to enter the struggle. To fish for people whose diagnoses spells hopelessness, to fish for people who society disregards and throws away, to fish for people that they may know abundant life. Jesus came inviting us to join his Kingdom and be a part of a new reality. There are some faiths that detach the individual believer from concern about earthly matters, who strive to rise above outward, visible concerns like swords and shields, wine and bread, politics and power. Christianity is not one of those religions.[3]
To be a disciple is to be adopted by a new nation, the Kingdom of God. For the first time in our lives, those old labels and divisions that cause such grief—rich/poor, Montanan/Californian, Republican/Democrat—are washed away, overcome. Little in this Kingdom comes naturally. It comes because God is in charge and because we are invited to take part in God’s reign. The Kingdom of God appears to the world as something small and insignificant, as small as a mustard seed, as troublesome a weed as the mustard plant breaking out all over. The Kingdom of God is like a rich man who gave all of his property to his servants and left town. The Kingdom is confounding, upside down, here but not yet, surprising, threatening, playful, real, and imminently present. We pray, “Thy Kingdom Come.” The Kingdom is not quite here, not yet in its fullness. But, all the same, God’s Kingdom is coming. It is here in glimpses, but not in its fullness. The now-and-not-yet present means that we are not satisfied with things as they are, now, today. This future fullness of God’s Kingdom means that we need not go back to yesterday—that our best days are before us! The Christian faith stands confidently in the present and leans into our future hope eager to see what God will bring to life among us.
When we pray this prayer, we signify our citizenship in the new Kingdom. We are pledging our allegiance not to a nation, not to a political party, not to a presidential candidate. We are pledging our allegiance to a new sovereign, and thereby relinquishing our allegiance to the kingdoms of this world. As we, the church, gather to pray this prayer, we are already forming a visible new community, formed because of God’s reign rather than on the basis of the way the world holds people together. When we pray this, together, we are becoming part of God’s promised purpose for the world. We are being transformed for the hallowing of God’s name. In praying the Lord’s prayer, we are busy becoming as that for which we yearn.
What is it that drives you? What is it that gives you strength to do this? For the gal beginning Chemotherapy and the fishermen leaving their lives behind to follow Jesus, I suspect the answers are the same. We can continually and fervently pray that God’s Kingdom come because we know that God’s will has been done. We can live without despair in the world’s present situation because, even in us, God brings resurrection and new life. We are able to leave everything and follow because God’s future is brighter than any future we could gain for ourselves. We are able to stand, to sing, to run, to dance, to hope, to rejoice because we know the best is yet to come. Let us pray.
[1] Initially cited by Elizabeth Myer, “Follow Me: Salt’s Commentary for Epiphany Week 3,” Blog, January 17, 2024, https://www.saltproject.org/progressive-christian-blog/2018/1/16/follow-me-salts-lectionary-commentary-for-epiphany-week-3.
[2] Chad Myer, “‘Let’s Catch Some Big Fish!’ Jesus’ Call to Discipleship in a World of Injustice,” Radical Discipleship, January 26, 2015, https://radicaldiscipleship.net/2015/01/22/lets-catch-some-big-fish-jesus-call-to-discipleship-in-a-world-of-injustice/.
[3] Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon, Lord, Teach Us: The Lord’s Prayer & the Christian Life, (Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1996), 52.