“The lonely and lost are just waiting to hear; Any moment their purpose will be perfectly clear.” – Mary-Chapin Carpenter, The Calling
A happy St. Andrew’s Day to all of you of Scottish descent!
In today’s Gospel reading, we are presented with the call of the first disciples according to St. Matthew. In this account, Jesus simply appears, calls out to Andrew and Peter, then James and John, and they immediately leave everything and follow Him. Immediately, we ask? What was it that drew these fishermen so quickly, so readily to Jesus?
In St. Luke’s Gospel, we have the story of the miraculous catch of fish before the calling of the first disciples, giving us one explanation. That leads us to ask what really happened that day. Which version is the truth? It’s important to remember that each Evangelist chose certain details of the story of Jesus in order to bring out certain themes, certain truths. One reason why we have four Gospels is that no one account could possibly exhaust the full meaning of anything Jesus said or did.
Let’s stick with St. Matthew’s version for now, and let it be our guide. Here, the immediate and total self-gift of these four fishermen is emphasized. They could not have known, at this point, what their following would mean for them. They could not have known in their minds – not yet – who this Jesus truly was. Yet, they get up, leave all, and follow. We can say that this following was an act of grace. Jesus invites, and in the very inviting, enables people to follow. This is true, of course. But grace builds on nature. So what was it, seen from the viewpoint of these first disciples, that enabled them to recognize this graced moment and follow Jesus?
In a recent piece in the New York Times, David Brooks gives us a clue. He begins the piece by introducing us to two men, Amos Tversky and Danny Kahnemann, who meet, become very close friends, and share an intense interest in psychology. One of the areas they study is the decision-making process. However, Brooks notes that their own lives weren’t shaped by calculated decisions so much as “by historical events, random coincidences, their own psychological needs and irresistible impulsions.” Brooks continues:
Their lives weren’t so much shaped by decisions as by rapture. They were held rapt by each other’s minds. They were fervently engaged by the puzzles before them.They succeeded not because they were master decision-makers but because of their capacity for zealous engagement. They followed their interests step-by-step.
And this is my problem with the cognitive sciences and the advice world generally. It’s built on the premise that we are chess masters who make decisions, for good or for ill. But when it comes to the really major things we mostly follow our noses. What seems interesting, beautiful, curious and addicting?
We don’t decide about life; we are captured by life. In the major spheres, decision-making, when it happens at all, is downstream from curiosity and engagement. If we really want to understand and shape behavior, maybe we should look less at decision-making and more at curiosity. Why are you interested in the things you are interested in? Why are some people zealously seized, maniacally attentive and compulsively engaged?
In his book The Righteous Mind, Jonathan Haidt makes a similar point. He compares our reasoning process to a jockey that is riding an elephant – the elephant representing those factors that Brooks outlines. Normally, the jockey will go in whatever direction the elephant leans, Haidt says.
With this background, let’s look again at those four first disciples. We can picture them as faithful Jews, devoted to God and the Torah, and longing for the Day of the Lord, when God would vindicate His people. Then Jesus appears before them. Jesus invites them by grace; they have the capacity to perceive this invitation as something beautiful and interesting. More than this: as something that responds to their deepest longings as faithful children of Israel. They then follow their noses, so to speak, and act immediately.
In my own life, at least, this makes perfect sense. Over ten years ago, the idea first came to me that the Lord might be inviting me to a life of greater solitude and contemplative prayer. In my heart, I knew immediately that this was true, that this was for me. Nevertheless, I hesitated. I resisted. Anxieties and fears were stumbling blocks. How could I do this, as a diocesan priest, with so few priests in parish ministry and so many needs out there? For a while, I failed to trust the Lord. Prayer, too, is a need. Hermits, too, perform an essential ministry. As I hesitated, I became more tired, more depressed. I was not in harmony with my call within a call.
Finally, I accepted it and went where my elephant was leaning. That changed everything. I was indeed “captured by life”, or better, captured by the Lord. I’m now fully engaged. I would rather starve on a street corner, knowing I had said yes to the Lord, than live in luxury and feel that I had somehow withheld myself from Him. It’s not that this ‘call within a call’ has been without challenges. It’s had plenty. But I’m locked in now. I’m at home within myself. There’s nothing more beautiful. “Lord, to whom shall I go?” I’m His. Period. As Mary-Chapin Carpenter sings in The Calling: “Whatever the calling, the stumbling or falling, You follow it knowing there’s no other way, there’s no other way”.