5th Sunday of Ordinary Time
February 4, 2007
As some of you know I am back teaching in the graduate school at Boston College this term. And I received an interesting e-mail from a student recently. He is contemplating his graduate thesis these days, was intrigued by something I said in class, and asked if he could become a “discipulus” to me over the coming months. Apart from being impressed that a graduate student today would know the Latin word for disciple, and apart from being slightly flattered myself, it got me thinking about what it means to be a disciple. That’s also what today’s readings are all about.
My student got the basic meaning right. Disciple means student, learner. It is a New testament word, in Greek math-ay-tes, in the more familiar Latin, discipulus. But the word means much more than simply “student” in the sacred scriptures. It describes an intimate relationship with God, with Christ, and it involves a very specific “call” that always brings with it a slightly embarrassed realization of unworthiness and sinfulness. It is not an easy thing to be Christ’s disciple. And Christ tells us elsewhere: many are called, but few chosen.
What is so different about being his disciple? How does it differ from being a disciple of Dorothy Day, or Martin Luther King, or Gandhi, or even the Buddha? Discipleship in the New Testament always begins with a very real call from a very alive, living person: Christ. Discipleship is the positive response to that invitation, that call. It is not just admiring someone’s good deeds. It is not just respecting and wanting to emulate an ethic, a peaceful and non-violent way to live. It is not just wanting to “do what Jesus did.” It is above all that, a personal invitation from God. It’s a personal thing, not just a global ethic.
There are so many stories of Jesus calling people in the gospels. In various versions, he first calls four fishermen from the shores of Galilee. Then he calls and appoints twelve close disciples to be apostles. Then there is the calling of the 72 disciples whom he sends out to heal the sick and proclaim the good news. And this list goes on. But as Dan Harrington, long-time editor of New Testament Abstracts, says: there is always a similar pattern to each of the calls. There is a personal revelation, a recognition of unworthiness, and a response after Jesus reassures the disciple.
St. Luke’s gospel that we heard today focuses primarily on Peter as a model of discipleship. The revelation this time is as simple as a huge catch of fish; that’s all it took for Peter to be impressed. But Peter realizes Jesus is calling to him much more personally; God is asking for more than just a “wow, nice fishing, guy.”
And so comes the second part of the pattern. Peter immediately says “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” And then Jesus reassures Peter and says that soon he will be catching people. This is not some hidden proselytizing call, the word used for to “catch” is, in the Greek, zogrein; it really conveys the sense of bringing to life, igniting with enthusiasm, keeping people alive. That’s what it means to say you will be “catching” people. It’s quite the opposite of what happens to fish when they are caught!
Jesus’ call offers Peter a choice, and it was not as easy choice to make. It never is! Peter was a seasoned fisherman, with a steady income, a wife and family, and plans, hopes, and dreams for himself and them all. I tend to forget sometimes, perhaps just romanticizing a bit, that Peter, and his friends, James and John, and his brother Andrew, were professional fishermen. They did not just sit around all day in their row boat with a fishing pole casually draped over the side of their little dingy.
Next time you are in P-town or Gloucester take a minute to really watch a fishing fleet return from work. These are hard-nosed, worldly-wise, edgy men. They don’t all look like George Clooney or Mark Whalberg in A Perfect Storm either! Christ’s call always invites hard choices, like it did for Peter. Luke’s gospel ends this morning with the notice that “when they brought their boats to the shore, they left everything and followed him.”
Isaiah’s story is much the same. So, in fact, is St. Paul’s, as we know it from the Acts of the Apostles. These days we sing a lovely song the bite of whose lyric is often lost, I’m afraid. No one hears the call of God and says glibly: “Here I am, Lord. Send me!” It is always much more difficult than that!
Let me repeat myself. To become Christ’s disciple, it is not enough just to want to do what Jesus did. That is a wonderful thing in itself: to feed the hungry, to clothe the naked, etc. But that is not yet discipleship. Many of us try to lead good and decent lives. If we think of sin much at all, we try to avoid it–at least the more obvious manifestations. We are, for the most part, good and decent people. But are we disciples? Have we heard that personal, living invitation from Christ?
What it means to be a disciple is to follow him personally, his invitation, his call. And his call to what? St. John perhaps sums it up best: “I have given you a new commandment. Love one another. As I have loved you. And by this shall all know that you are my disciples.”
That is much more than my young graduate student ever bargained for. It may be more than we realize we are invited to. Listen for that call. Peace!