Psalm 29 • Genesis 1:1-5 • Acts 19:1-7 • Mark 1:4-11

The theme for this week is the voice of the Lord in re-creation. The call to worship Psalm describes the tremendous power of the voice of God that rules over every last detail of creation. Genesis 1 tells us of the voice of God creating the universe out of nothing—speaking it into creation. Acts 19 shares about the re-creation of being in Christ, signified by receiving the Holy Spirit. Our sermon covers Mark 1, the baptism of Jesus. The powerful symbols of re-creation and re-telling of this moment of Jesus’ life culminate in the blessing of God’s voice ringing through creation: “I am well-pleased with you.”

The Baptism of the Lord

Jesus Immerses himself in Our Story

Mark 1:4-11 (ESV)

Read or have someone read Mark 1:4-11 ESV.

One tool often used in journalism is the nutshell paragraph, often just called the “nut graph.” This is that split-second summary most of us are used to seeing near the beginning of an article.

“Today in Washington, lawmakers gathered to discuss…”

“Trade negotiations continue between this and that country, with no end in sight…”

“In this article, we’ll look at how the hurricane affected the small town and…”

After giving that nutshell paragraph, the journalist will then go on to expand the story with background, events and conclusions. The first paragraph is essentially a contract between the writer and the reader: “here’s what we’re going to talk about, so you know you’re not wasting your time.”

This is different from artistic writing, where the story may be told over chapters and chapters. The story is often told slowly to keep you reading. Even commercial writing for a product might be a little more subtle about what they’re actually talking about than journalism.

Jesus’ baptism is Mark’s “nutshell paragraph.” Mark writes his gospel in blunt, no-frills language and at lightning speed compared to the other three Gospels. You could almost summarize Mark as saying “and then and then and then” over and over all the way through the book! It was probably the first Gospel written, and that may have affected the speed portrayed within it.

Mark starts the conversation with this image of Jesus getting baptized by his cousin in an obscure strip of country east of Jerusalem. The crowd is a mix of cranky and hopeful, including people from the well-heeled to the unsavory parts of society. It is here that Mark compacts several stories into one narrative.

Here’s your nutshell paragraph for today. Let’s use it to look at how the baptism of Jesus tells us the world’s story, Israel’s story, and our story.

The World’s Story

And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:10-11 ESV)

Another literary term we could use here is a nod, a wink, or a tip-of-the-hat. Writers and movie makers will sometimes make an oblique, sideways reference to something their audience will know. Think of shows that might use language or themes from politics either as a joke or to express a certain theme. As an American, if I hear the term “revolution” or “colonist,” it has a meaning tied to a story. The images brought to mind by those words might be completely different to a person in Africa, because they have been part of a different story.

The Gospels are heavily painted and layered with winks and tips to the Old Testament story. In this instance, we see strong references to the creation story in Genesis: the water, the Spirit hovering over the water and the voice of God starting a story.

Mark is telling us that Jesus is the re-creation. Everything is being made new and different. In many ways, it’s all starting over. We see this theme throughout the Gospels. The authors use wording like “in the beginning” and emphasize garden imagery and other things to bring across the fact that the human story is being told again, but this time with the author as a character himself.

We have the advantage of reading this from a historical point of view. But we also need to put ourselves in the mindset of those seeing this happening and first hearing these words. For them, water was not only necessary for life, but it was also a symbol of all that was chaotic, death-giving, and wild in the world. John’s vision of a new heavens and new earth in Revelation 21 includes the line “…and there was no more sea.” That doesn’t mean there was no water, but the chaos, destruction, and anti-life had all been brought to bear under the rule of Christ.

So baptism itself was a bit of a scary un-creation. It was meant to symbolize a kind of death. Can you breathe down there? No, you cannot. Further, you are at the mercy of the person holding you. With Jesus going down into the “death” of the water and coming up again, he signified his death and resurrection, and this act referenced the original creation itself.

The question will buzz in the back of all our minds: Why was Jesus baptized? Mark and others describe John’s work as a “baptism of repentance for the forgiveness of sins.” But Jesus didn’t have any sin to repent of and never would, so why is he there?

While we’re at it, why was Jesus crucified for crimes he never committed and bearing the sweat and heat of a life which he had created to be perfect? As Paul writes: “For our sake he made him to be sin who knew no sin, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God” (2 Corinthians 5:21). Just as we go through baptism, so Jesus goes through baptism. Just as we go through life with all its pain and joy, so did Jesus. Just as we go through painful distance from God because of our sin, so Jesus did, although he never committed the sin.

Put simply: He acted like us, so that we could act like him. But it’s not just an act – it is reality. He was one of us; we are being re-created to be like he is in our innermost being.

Part of that was entering baptism, going through what was an obscure ritual at the hands of his eccentric cousin who himself had little clue what was going on. Our baptism memories might be just as humble. This is the story Jesus entered. For lack of a better word, he was immersed in our story. This happened in his incarnation, in the womb, and was demonstrated again here at the Jordan River, and would be demonstrated again in his suffering and death. The good news is that he brings this story to a happy conclusion in his resurrection, and because he has joined himself to our story, we will be with him in his resurrection, too.

Israel’s Story

The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God. As it is written in Isaiah the prophet: “Behold, I will send my messenger before your face, who will prepare your way, the voice of one crying in the wilderness: ‘Prepare the way of the Lord, make his paths straight.’” (Mark 1:1-4 ESV)

Many of us are familiar with commercial breaks on TV. They are often used to add a helpful break in the story right before some huge reveal or twist, or before a famous star arrives on the scene. You might see someone’s reaction and then cut to commercial, leaving you on the edge of your seat wondering what comes next.

These words from Isaiah are kind of like that. Mark superimposes them here—a herald of the coming of Israel’s God when the way is prepared for him by the prophet. These words resound at the beginning of his Gospel and then Jesus arrives. Israel’s God has come, and he just happens to be in the form of a Hebrew kid from the lock-your-doors side of town, speaking with an accent! “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” A big reveal indeed!

The retelling of Israel’s story launches:

And all the country of Judea and all Jerusalem were going out to him and were being baptized by him in the river Jordan, confessing their sins. Now John was clothed with camel’s hair and wore a leather belt around his waist and ate locusts and wild honey. (Mark 1:5-6 ESV)

Here is Israel—people passing through the river. We know from other Gospels that they are most likely on the east side of the river. John is re-enacting the story of Israel as they entered the promised land by crossing the Jordan River from the east.

Mark takes a moment to describe the fact that John looked and dressed (and probably smelled) like Elijah, the wild and wooly prophet of the wilderness in the Old Testament.

Finally, Jesus appears, passes through the water, and then is immediately led out into the desert by the Holy Spirit where he prepares for ministry and is tempted—just as Israel wandered in the desert for forty years. Jesus re-enacts the story of Israel, but instead of complaining and rebelling, he does so in perfect obedience.

Do you see that? Jesus is re-telling the story in the right way. He is coming to complete the story that Israel began. As he says in Matthew: “Do not think that I have come to abolish the Law or the Prophets; I have not come to abolish them but to fulfill them” (Matthew 3:17). He came to finish the story.

The next detail shows us a hint of the future of God’s relationship with humanity. Jesus is plunged under the water and comes back up:

And when he came up out of the water, immediately he saw the heavens being torn open and the Spirit descending on him like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my beloved Son; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:10-11 ESV)

The heaven’s being torn open. There are fine words in Greek for opening or disclosing, but Mark chooses the word “torn.” This is an important choice of words. One vital thing to remember when reading the Gospels is that the authors never wasted ink—they made their word choices carefully.

In this case, that word “torn” appears in only one other place in the Gospel of Mark. Years later, Jesus is crucified. Among the many things going on, “The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom” (Mark 15:38). This is the same word! Just as God tore the division between his dimension and ours in the moment of baptism, so he tore the curtain open that separated the Holy of Holies for centuries in the temple.

That brings us into…

Our Story

Jesus’ baptism retells the story of the creation of the world—the voice of God and the Spirit hovering over the water. It also retells the story of Israel—passing through the waters of the Red Sea on their way to the promised land, then wandering in the desert just as Jesus went to the desert. Finally, the baptism of Jesus retells our story.

 And he preached, saying, “After me comes he who is mightier than I, the strap of whose sandals I am not worthy to stoop down and untie. I have baptized you with water, but he will baptize you with the Holy Spirit.” In those days Jesus came from Nazareth of Galilee and was baptized by John in the Jordan. (Mark 1:7-9 ESV)

The passivity of Jesus’ baptism is striking. He comes out to the desert to be baptized by his eccentric cousin who is just about to get in so much trouble that he’ll be beheaded by the king. John’s work was a renewal movement, disruptive and disturbing to the powers that be. He didn’t go through HR or fill out the proper forms before initiating. This is a wild, strange spectacle, no doubt visited by as many lookers as participants. And it’s in the middle of this that Jesus humbles himself into the process.

John tries to stop him:

I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me? (Matthew 3:14 ESV).

There are parallels to birth—the helplessness, the water, that first breath when you come into the world. This is the message of baptism and the gospel: This isn’t a self-improvement course or a bit of good advice—this is re-birth. You don’t need a course correction; you need to start over.

John begins to understand the power of what’s going on. He says he isn’t worthy to undo the strap on the sandal of the One coming. That is preparation for washing feet, which was the lowliest servants’ work, as we know from several other times in Scripture. But John says, “I can’t even get that close, this is above my pay grade.”

That’s that truth of it. Despite Hollywood and Hallmark’s many platitudes to reach down inside ourselves or speak from the heart, the gospel tells that the answer isn’t in there. We need stronger medicine. We need Jesus to come from outside and immerse himself in our story. And that’s what he did.

Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18 • 1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20) • 1 Corinthians 6:12-20 • John 1:43-51

This week’s theme is being known in the Lord. The story from 1 Samuel recounts Samuel’s first encounter of hearing the Lord’s personal call into service. 1 Corinthians 6 maps out some moral implications of being a disciple who lives “in Christ.” The Gospel text in John 1 presents Jesus’ intimate knowledge of those he calls to walk with him. While the Psalm is normally the call to worship, we built the sermon on Psalm 139, which explores God’s presence to us and his intimate knowledge of us.

The Gift of Being Known

Psalm 139:1-18 (NRSV)

There was a recent poll by a local news station that showed 94 percent of participants agreed with the statement, “Nobody really knows me.” In an age where the front porch has been replaced by a back deck hidden behind a wrap-around fence, our society seems bent on remaining “unknown.” But this comes at a cost. All the technological advances to help people “stay connected” have done little to offset the growing feelings of isolation and loneliness that are widespread in our culture. Today we discover a breath of fresh air that comes to us from Psalm 139. This is a beloved favorite for many, as it reminds us that no matter how alone we may sometimes feel, there is One who knows us more deeply than we know ourselves.

The Psalmist finds this truth to be a marvelous reality to meditate on. He seems to take long strides in saying what could be said very quickly. He begins with “O LORD, you have searched me and known me.” He could just end there but instead he goes to great length to make the same point over and over. This truth of being known by the Lord is like a diamond of great beauty that one wants to examine at every angle to capture all the sparkling interrelated facets.

We will linger today with the Psalmist so we too can be dazzled by the glimmering beauty of being known by our gracious Lord.

Before we start, it will be helpful to acknowledge that the Psalm seems to be written by someone seeking vindication—possibly from false accusations. The writer is beseeching the one who knows the truth of his situation and knows his heart. He wants the Lord to weigh in and judge him and his situation according to his perfect knowledge. He is seeking refuge in the Lord’s saving knowledge of himself. We may not feel we can be so bold in such a prayer. Do we really want God’s all-seeing gaze to search our innermost thoughts? Do we really want him to search our hearts to the core? Surely it wouldn’t take long for God to see that we have no grounds for vindication. Even we are aware that we have hidden sins. But for the believer, we must add to this the fact that we are hidden in Christ. Who we truly are is who we are becoming in Jesus. We do not fully know who we are yet, but the Father does, and when he searches us, he finds Jesus living in us. And there is our rock-solid vindication. Ultimately then, this Psalm points us to Jesus, in whom we have our life and our vindication, not on our righteousness but on his. So, with that in mind, let us continue.

God’s Insight

O Lord, you have searched me and known me.  You know when I sit down and when I rise up; you discern my thoughts from far away.  You search out my path and my lying down, and are acquainted with all my ways.  Even before a word is on my tongue, O Lord, you know it completely.  You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.  Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it. (Psalm 139:1-6 NRSV)

The first section of this Psalm highlights God’s insight that he has of his creatures. This insight is expressed in several ways, primarily by using opposites. The Lord knows when we sit down and rise up. This means he knows us for who we truly are whether we are inactive or active. There is a lie that goes around that what we do defines us. We are often told that our value is measured by what we can contribute or produce. As long as we are producing, we can be known to have some value. But God knows us beyond our utility. He knows us as his son or daughter, and his pleasure in us is not determined by our activity or inactivity. In this knowledge we can work and play and not fear that he turns his face from us when we grow too weary to do either.

The Lord also knows us in our inward thoughts “from far away.” The Lord is never so far to not know what is going on inside us. In fact, he knows what is going on inside us even more than we do. There is no long-distance relationship with the Lord. This means we can always bring to him our inner conflicts, our unresolved tensions and questions. We never have to fear creating distance between us and the Lord by sharing too much. He already knows from afar.

Verse 3 speaks of the Lord knowing our “path” and our “lying down.” Whether we are on the go or are at rest, the Lord never loses sight of us. When our lives become hectic and frantic, we may lose sight of where we are going and who we are, but the Lord does not. When we reach the end of our rope and run out of “get up and go,” the Lord does not walk on without us. The Lord has no problem with a change of pace. The psalmist writes, “You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me.” There are times with our walk with the Lord that we need his hand to give us a push from behind. There are other times when we need the Lord’s hands to drag us forward. Either way, the Lord knows when to push and when to pull. We can trust that his nail-scarred hands do both out of his passionate love for us. All this language using extreme opposites are ways to express that the Lord knows us completely in the totality of our lives. As the psalmist confesses, this knowledge is “too wonderful for me.”

God’s Oversight

Where can I go from your spirit? Or where can I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there; if I make my bed in Sheol, you are there. If I take the wings of the morning and settle at the farthest limits of the sea, even there your hand shall lead me, and your right hand shall hold me fast. If I say, “Surely the darkness shall cover me, and the light around me become night,” even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is as bright as the day, for darkness is as light to you. (Psalm 139:7-12 NRSV)

The second section of this Psalm describes God’s divine oversight that he has for his creatures. Here the psalmist lets us know that there is nowhere we can go to escape God’s presence. Jonah would heartily agree. Some metaphorical language is used in this section to relay this truth—again using opposites. The psalmist covers all directions from up (heaven) to down (sheol) to east (winds of the morning) to the western horizon (sea). No matter what direction one takes, God will find us. I guess you could say the Lord never loses at hide and seek. How comforting it is to know that the Lord does not lose sight of us even when we may want him to. Verse 10 reminds us that no matter what direction our lives turn, Jesus will still be there to lead us and hold us to himself.

God’s Foresight

For it was you who formed my inward parts; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; that I know very well. My frame was not hidden from you, when I was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth. Your eyes beheld my unformed substance. In your book were written all the days that were formed for me, when none of them as yet existed. How weighty to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! I try to count them—they are more than the sand; I come to the end—I am still with you. (Psalm 139:13-18 NRSV)

These verses describe God’s foresight of his beloved creatures. We are not accidents of nature or a random collision of atoms or arbitrary expressions of matter. We are “fearfully and wonderfully made.” That is an amazing truth to meditate on. The infinite and almighty God thought you up so he could spend the rest of eternity with you. That’s what you are created for. Not to be forgotten when your atoms and matter return to the dust, but to be re-membered in Christ, to be known and loved for all eternity. You were created to know God for who he is and to be known by him for who he created you to be. This is a level of knowing and being known that is so complex, we have but scratched the surface today.

Jesus knows the Father perfectly and the Father knows Jesus perfectly, and it is in Jesus that we are invited to participate in their perfect knowledge of one another. In Christ we will be known in a way that sets us free from all hiding and secrecy. We will be perfectly safe being known by the Father. In Jesus we will also know the Father in the same way (although not to the same extent) the Son knows the Father. In his perfect knowledge of the Father, we will know we are safe and secure in his presence. We will know his amazing love for us in the same way the Son has experienced the Father’s love for all eternity. We will find knowing the Father to be the absolute thrill of our existence.

After contemplating the overwhelming beauty of God’s knowledge of us, the Psalmist then proceeds to ask for God’s vindication. On the assurance that God sees all with his perfect saving knowledge, we too can bring all our concerns to him, knowing he will search it out and set it right according to his insight, oversight and foresight. All this is given to us in Jesus. In Jesus we never have to fear falling out of sight.

Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 62:5-12 • Jonah 3:1-5, 10 • 1 Corinthians 7:29-31  • Mark 1:14-20

The theme this week is God’s unstoppable calling. The call to worship Psalm talks about God’s unstoppable power in the universe—we can’t stand against it; God has the final word. Jonah 3 tells about the repentance of Nineveh—a people that didn’t know or care about God. In 1 Corinthians 7, Paul admonishes us to live with our calling in sight because the way the world runs is falling away before God’s incoming kingdom. Our sermon, from Mark 1, focuses on the calling of the disciples—imperfect people who were called into God’s unstoppable work.

Mark 1: The Paradox of Calling

Read, or have someone read Mark 1:14-20, then start by asking the members how the year 2020 disrupted their lives.

2020 was an interesting year. Things seemed fairly normal up to middle of March, and then the world changed. The strangest sights have become familiar. For months many stayed home and had their groceries brought by strangers in a mask. Restaurants that were open only sold carry out and served us curbside. Playgrounds were roped off with yellow police tape. For more than a month, toilet tissue was the hottest commodity.

One thing you can say about 2020 is that normal life was disrupted. Despite all the securities and technology of modern life, Covid-19 somehow made it through all and disrupted our lives. Add to that the many protests, the burning, looting and rioting. Yes, 2020 was a year of disruption. At times it seemed everything was being disrupted and kicked off the stable rails where it ran (and it’s still not over with).

Disruption.

The story in our text for today is one of disruption. Jesus not only called these men, but he also derailed their lives. They were the last people you might think of as call-able, and they did not really seem to get it until Jesus ascended right in front of them.

Let’s look at this story of calling, which holds a lot of disparate realities together at the same time. Like many of the stories of Scripture, this one is heavy with paradox.

The calling of these disciples and all of us is:

• Ordinary, yet disruptive
• Divine, yet utterly human

Ordinary

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. (Mark 1:16 NRSV)

Years ago in American politics, a Washington insider nicknamed the “hatchet man” was embroiled in scandal as part of the infamous Watergate Seven. He was tried and convicted and imprisoned in a very public trial.

Through the ministry of Christian friends, he came to accept Christ in his mid-forties. He then went on to start a global nonprofit for prisoners and to write over thirty books. We know the “hatchet man” as Chuck Colson, a member of Nixon’s inner circle in the ’70s. He went from Beltway destroyer to a minister of the gospel.

We all go through a transformation, but not as dramatic as Colson. Many of us are like the disciples, who, in many regards, could not be more ordinary.

They were fishermen. In that society you couldn’t get more middle class. They were even less interesting than the shepherds who got the announcement of Jesus’ birth. At least the shepherds were part of a slurred and disparaged part of society. The wise men were exotic, educated and rich. But when it came to the actual disciples, a good number of them came from a forgettable, lukewarm part of society.

And that’s the idea. As it’s been said before: God doesn’t call the equipped, he equips the called. These men were not community organizers like Chuck Colson or great speakers or businessmen. They were middle-of-the-bell-curve unremarkable, just like most of us.

Yet they were called ringside for the most important event in history.

Disruptive

Despite the sheer ordinariness of these men and these initial conversations, their lives were never the same.

Similar to the virus upending the tamed and explored modern world, Jesus’ call disrupted every part of their lives, and society shortly after.

This twist is contained in their first conversation:

And Jesus said to them, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.” And immediately they left their nets and followed him. (Mark 1:17 NRSV)

Jesus met them where they were—using the net-casting image they were used to, but “fishing for people”? What does that mean? He just juxtaposed the strange and the familiar, and that is how their lives would be from then on.

These guys went from third and fourth generation fishermen in the belly of their family fishing boat to international fame and excruciating martyrdom. All in a few decades.

Jesus didn’t just change the plan or the coordinates, he changed the gravity. Suddenly the way they knew identity (occupation, family, tradition) would be turned on its head. What they waited for—the kingdom of God—was suddenly upon them in a way no one had guessed it would be.

Life—disrupted.

Most of us, like most people in church history, were not called quite this way. Yes, some of you may have dramatic stories like Colson, Dwight Moody, or Mother Theresa, but most of us will have a small circle of influence and be left out of the history books.

What does the call of Jesus mean for the rest of us?

Let’s take a small step to the side and consider a minor biblical character, Joseph of Arimathea, who shows up in about 2 ½ verses in the Gospels. He’s mostly known for donating his grave for Jesus’ burial.

Other than that, Joseph was an upper-class member of the ruling council who kept his interest in Jesus a secret. He was self-protective, half-in, half-out—like many of us if we’re honest. Yet he somehow followed the call even in his own small way. After Jesus’ death, Joseph used his influence to get the body for burial. He stuck his neck out—not dramatically, but in a way that was necessary for things to go on.

The final time we see Joseph is in John 19:

So they took the body of Jesus and wrapped it with the spices in linen cloths, according to the burial custom of the Jews. (John 19:40 NRSV)

Here he is, with Nicodemus, doing slave’s work. People in the upper crust like him were never supposed to do that kind of work. But here he is, free from the status and prestige of his station, free to serve. He has been disrupted by the call of Jesus.

We have no indication that he changed his occupation or left it all. We just know that he was someone else after meeting Jesus.

And maybe that is the change we will see in ourselves. Sometimes there is this dramatic dropping of everything, sometimes the gravity changes in the details within your life.

So, the call of Jesus is ordinary—meeting unremarkable people in unremarkable lives. Yet it’s disruptive, changing the gravity we live by so that it’s never the same.

The call of Jesus is also divine, while remaining utterly human.

Divine

 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. (Mark 1:14-15 NRSV)

Mark begins his gospel very suddenly. No birth stories, no long theological thoughts—Jesus just kind of appears, walks out of thin desert air.

And he announces that the “kingdom is at hand.” Those words seem strange to us in a world where royalty is rarely seen, but we have to try to put ourselves in that setting.

King Jesus. Sure, Savior Jesus or best friend Jesus, but King Jesus? And yet the imagery is all through the Gospels. Jesus is the son of David in the royal line, he is hailed as King of kings, and he is given a crown of thorns, a purple robe and enthroned on a cross.

We have to remember that Jesus didn’t just come to be our buddy and heal our self-image, he came to get God and the world right with each other.

So the calling of Jesus is divine. The foundational reality of humanity—its relationship with God—was fundamentally changed in Jesus. He calls us into that changed reality—not just a warm fuzzy feeling, not just a subjective journey.

In this passage, we see this exemplified in the fact that Jesus called them. In that society, if you were lucky enough to be educated and wanted to study with a famous rabbi, you had to go and find him. You heard about him, you researched, and you then asked if you could learn from him.

But Jesus comes to get these guys. He’s already at work as he “passed along the Sea of Galilee” (v. 16). He is on the move and invites them into what he is doing. If you’ve ever felt called by God into anything—the ministry, a marriage, a deeper relationship with himself—then you know he does the calling. He comes to get you and draws you to himself. The bigger the change that is needed, the stronger the call has to be. So, for some people who grow up in a Christian family and willingly go with it, only a slight nudge may be needed.

This is not a change of perspective, it’s a change of identity.

Human

The call of Jesus comes to the ordinary. The call of Jesus is disruptive, and it changes life forever. The call of Jesus is divine—the whole universe changed when he arrived. And the call of Jesus is utterly human.

Jesus calls human beings. He calls real-life flesh-and-blood people to his kingdom work in the world. Utterly human, imperfect people. Look at the guys in this story:

• James and John had their mom ask Jesus for the prime seats in his kingdom (Matthew 20)
• Peter denies Jesus the night before his crucifixion (John 13)
• Andrew fled when Jesus was arrested—along with everybody else (Mark 14).

They, along with all the other disciples, are going to question Jesus all the way through. They will misunderstand him, push back on him, undermine him through the whole story. They will put their own agenda and themselves before him several times before they get it.

But they were disrupted by Jesus. They went to the ends of the earth with the gospel. They died in exile, most were crucified or otherwise martyred. These very human men received a divine summons—these are the called who were equipped along the way.

Ordinary, yet disruptive. Divine, yet utterly human. The call of Jesus is full of paradoxes, whether that means a call into ministry or movements that change the world or simply shining brightly where you are. He calls people in many different ways, each time inviting us to be part of what he is doing.

Did you get that? Jesus calls each of us as he is at work, desiring that we be part of what he is doing. He invites us to participate with what he is already doing.

We will make mistakes! We’ll do the wrong thing, take the long way, double back a few times. It seems like people don’t share that enough. The discipleship of the apostles was a comedy of errors, and one of them, Judas, never really got it. Mistakes—not even sin necessarily—are a reality Jesus has taken into account before the creation of the world.

He’s not looking for perfection; he’s looking for you.

So put yourself there on the lakeshore, tossing your nets into the water for the thousandth time. It’s a Wednesday, the wind is favorable, the catch is so-so. And here he comes—this man you’ve heard of, somehow associated with this new movement. Something in the fathoms of yourself responds when you hear his voice. What will you say?

Small Group Discussion Questions

Psalm 111:1-10 • Deuteronomy 18:15-20 • 1 Corinthians 8:1-13 • Mark 1:21-28

The theme for this week is God at work, which challenges us to rethink our thoughts about work. Deuteronomy talks about God’s work among the ancient Israelites, using a prophet to speak to them when they said they could not handle speaking to God directly. 1 Corinthians discusses how we can get caught up in “works” or the practices that are important to us, to the point of forgetting that “anyone who loves God is known by him,” and Mark tells the story of Jesus’s work of casting out an unclean spirit from a man, releasing him from a burden. Normally the psalm is our call to worship, but this week it is our sermon text. Psalm 111 examines God’s works and the qualities of God’s works that we should think about imitating in our own work.

God at Work: More Than What You See

Psalm 111:1-10

Start by asking a few people to share what they did yesterday. Hopefully, a few will name work-housework-homework type activities. If they struggle, you could ask for a show of hands to these questions: a) did anybody cook a meal yesterday? b) did anyone clean their home or their car? c) did anyone work on classwork or schoolwork?

What did you do yesterday? A number of your answers were a form of work, something that you needed to get done to maintain your home or meet a deadline or feed your family. When we think of work, we focus on achieving or accomplishing something tangible, something we can see. If I cook a meal, I see the food on the plate, and I see my family eating the food. If I answer questions on a homework assignment for class, I can see the written answers I created. Even on our jobs, we have certain quantitative measures to gauge our performance. But I would like to suggest that there are other ways we can measure the effectiveness of our work, and we can start by reading Psalm 111 to understand a little more about the work God does.

Read Psalm 111.

What can we observe about the text? What does it tell us about how our work(s)—our participation with Jesus—should be? Because Jesus is in us, our works—the works that have meaning—are a participation with what Jesus is doing in and through us. Even our ordinary works are meaningful because Jesus is in us. He did ordinary work for most of his life; ordinary work is part of the Christian life, part of the life of Christ in us.

Let’s notice the key attributes of God’s works and think about how they relate to our work:

Verse 2: “Great are the works of the Lord; they are pondered by all who delight in them.” God’s works are worth studying. It’s good to consider why God’s works are great, and why they are worth pondering over. Is it just that his works are awe-inspiring (like beauty in nature) or could it be something more? How and why might our works be thought of as “great”?

Verse 3: “Glorious and majestic are his deeds, and his righteousness endures forever.” God’s works are full of honor and majesty. Not only do you see his majesty in some of the wonders of the world, but also in the intricacies of creation, in his interventions in our lives, in our calling, in his body. His works give evidence of his goodness (i.e., righteousness), and it lasts forever, attesting to his character of goodness. How do our works bring honor? How do they reveal our goodness (which is God’s goodness flowing through us)?

Verse 4: “He has caused his wonders to be remembered; the Lord is gracious and compassionate.” His works make him well-known for his graciousness and his mercy. How do our works show grace and mercy?

Verse 5: “He provides food for those who fear him; he remembers his covenant forever.” His works provide for what we need, and he remembers his promises to provide. How did your work this week provide for your family or for your future? How did it show that you remembered your responsibility to your people (i.e., your family, your neighbors, your coworkers)?

Verse 6: “He has shown his people the power of his works, giving them the lands of other nations.” There is power in God’s work and creating a legacy (v. 6). There is power in your work, no matter how humble, and a creating of a legacy or memory in those around you. What kind of worker would your family or coworkers say you are? Do you bring joy to your home, workplace, or classroom?

Verse 7: “The works of his hands are faithful and just; all his precepts are trustworthy.” God’s works are faithful to his plan and his promises to us. They are just for all and we can trust him to fulfill what he says he will do. How do our works show these fruits of the Spirit: faithfulness, justice, and trustworthiness?

Verse 8: “They are established for ever and ever, enacted in faithfulness and uprightness.” When God builds something (think relationship with you), it is meant to last forever. He always builds with the right motives. Though we think our works are only temporary, when they are performed with love, their impact is not forgotten. Do we stop to consider our motives, the “why” behind our work?

Verse 9: “He provided redemption for his people; he ordained his covenant forever—holy and awesome is his name.” God redeems what seems lost in our lives with his goodness and his steadfast presence in our lives. Do we offer others goodness and a steadfast presence? Are we dependable?

Verse 10: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom; all who follow his precepts have good understanding. To him belongs eternal praise.” God’s works can be best understood from a position of awe and wonder—which leads to the wisdom of knowing him. How can our own works be better understood if we approach them with awe and wonder? Do we view our work (or ability to work) as a blessing to us and others?

Application:

• God’s works are much more than the tangible accomplishment or creation. They evoke positive emotions in others. So should our works. As we do the sometimes mundane work of living as a human being, we forget that the most ordinary of tasks offer us the chance to work as God works by recognizing the deeper meaning attached to whatever we do, whether it is cooking a meal, washing clothes, working a job to provide for our family, or being a good employee to help our employer and our coworkers. When we work, we represent Jesus and his life in us, evoking an emotional experience in others, creating a positive (or negative) legacy.
• God’s work always brings blessing to others—even when that blessing is not immediately apparent. Our work should always be a blessing to others. As we saw in the Speaking of Life video, we can get caught up in the awe and wonder of the Grand Canyon. God’s works like the Grand Canyon evoke awe and wonder. As the video pointed out, human works are sometimes accomplished at the expense (sometimes even the lives) of others. We must be diligent to ensure that our work is always a blessing and never takes advantage of others, and when possible, we must do our part to help those who typically don’t have the voice or opportunities on the job, perhaps due to gender, race, or other issues of diversity. We look for opportunities to lift others up, make sure they are recognized for their gifts and abilities, and help ensure they are fairly compensated.

Taking time to consider that some of the most important aspects of God’s work are felt, not seen, helps us to pay closer attention to our own work and its impact on others. Jesus told us to love as he loves—encouraging us to pay attention to how we love and serve others in everything we do. Even the most mundane offerings, like cooking a meal, reveal God’s love through us to our families. Likewise, encouraging our fellow employees by recognizing their gifts and contributions, along with giving a voice to those who are sometimes overlooked, is how our best work is reflective of God’s work. It is part of Jesus, through the Holy Spirit, living in us and loving others through us.

Small Group Discussion Questions