Made

“And Jesus said to them, ‘Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.’ And immediately they left their nets and followed him” (Mark 1:17-18).

The dried bean pods hang on yellowed vines, dancing derelict in the grey wind. Unharvested tomatoes lie shapelessly and colorlessly on the chilly ground. The annual flowers have given their last glow and are now closed up in brown seed pods. Summer sun has given way to fall seed.

Potential.

But the buffering winter awaits, the destroying cold, the killing frost. Then the dark of dirt, the painful crack of shell, the push of too fragile tendrils against rock and clay, the search for hidden sun.

And yet—it grows.

“I make the dry tree flourish. I am the Lord; I have spoken, and I will do it” (Ezekiel 17:24).

We sit and contemplate, daunted. The future, the task, the calling, the role all seem too much. To love that person? To make that decision? To push through? To be the mother I should be? To be the wife I am called to be? To make that sacrifice? To make financial ends meet? How can I? Who! Who?

We are dead seeds, faced with an impossible winter that bites into our dreams. The frost coats thick with fear. The winter gusts roar away the flicker of hope.

And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make….” This same verb, “I will make,” is spoken by God (1). 

“And I [the Lord] will make of you [Abraham] a great nation” (Genesis 12:2)

“I will make you [Abraham] exceedingly fruitful, and I will make you into nations, and kings shall come from you” (Genesis 17:6).

“I [the Lord] will make you [Israel] majestic forever, a joy from age to age” (Isaiah 60:15).

Jesus “commands as God commands…. He makes of the fisherman something new, that which he wills” (1). God took the weak and rebellious and he made. The same creative God who spoke creation into being, speaks identity, role, purpose, mission, qualification into his people.

And immediately they follow him. We like to psychologize why—something in Jesus’ charisma, a desire in their hearts, a hope for end of Roman oppression, etc. But for Mark, it is simple. It is a calling. They are made—not made to do it, but made, made disciples, made followers. This grand making is beautiful! But yet, it was a long process. Three years later, they abandon their rabbi, still confused. Their seeds faced a bitter winter.

But stop a moment—Jesus makes. Jesus called you, calls you. Stand on the shore of Galilee and hear him. Stand in the fall garden, with the chilly winter riding in on the grey clouds surfing the horizon, being beckoned in by the geese’s call. Stand before what seems insurmountable—the call to be a disciple in a broken world. The call to be a disciple-wife who loves her husband even when it is tough. The call to be a disciple-mother. The call to be a disciple-lover. The call to be a disciple-forgiver. The call to be a disciple who follows by faith when the future seems uncertain, when tough decisions need to be made. The call to be a disciple-steward trusting for finances.

Hear him: “Follow me. I will make you.”

And the seed pushes through the winter, and the Lord will make it flourish, a great harvest, majestic forever, a joy from age to age.

NOTES

(1) David E. Garland, A Theology of Mark’s Gospel (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2015), 265.

(2) Lohmeyer, cited by David E. Garland, A Theology, 265.