Follow Me

Psalm 27:1,4-9; Isaiah 9:1-4; Matthew 4:12-23; 1 Corinthians 1:10-18

Central Baptist Church—Lowesville, VA

27 January 2008

My parents would get together with other missionaries to play dominoes on occasion. Normally it was a game called “42”. Similar to card games like spades or Rook, the tiles were passed out, bids were made as to how many points one could make, and the highest bidder called “trumps,” whether a number or doubles. On occasion, the winner of the bid would say, “Follow Me”. On such a round, there would be no trump suit. The highest numbered tile would win each hand in the round. It was always a bit of mystery, as that was not the way most hands were played. We often like things on a little more comfortable keel. When Jesus called the disciples, he used the same open-ended words, “Follow me.” Are we up to accepting the risk of such an open-ended invitation to discipleship?

Last week's reading gave no indication that following Jesus cost Andrew anything. John failed to mention that Andrew actually had a job. He just spoke of Andrew as one of the Baptist’s disciples—to our eyes as though that were somehow gainful employment. At least upon John’s imprisonment, his disciples had to go back to earning a living in some other way.

When Jesus came by, Andrew was busy with the nets. Fishing was no leisure activity for a day off. It was a rough task established to put food on the table and out to market. No fly rods and artificial bait, diesel engines, or motors to haul in nets of catch. Fishing could turn a profit, but it was hard, physical labor.

There was no mending to do on the nets at the moment. The boat had been checked and prepared for its next trip out. It was not time to set out with the boats into the Sea of Galilee, but there was time to throw out the circular nets to add something to the day’s catch. Busy at work, Andrew cast and hauled on the net, working to bring in something more for food, sale, and meeting the needs of family and coworkers.

Casting once or twice was no great task. It took skill, but it was the repetition that was so taxing. Andrew was seasoned to the work, tinted by the sun, weathered by the wind, and hardened with the physical exertion of casting, hauling, and working with the fishing gear. Some days the effort paid off well. Other days there was little to show for much exertion.

Near the end of the day, Andrew was tired. Even so, his work was not done. Tired muscles, aching feet, and hands feeling the effects of rough treatment, he kept at it. They would not take the boat out again today, but there must still be food for hungry mouths. He cast his net, pulled it in, emptied it, and prepared to cast again. This time, he was the one caught. Jesus came along and cast his own net. He called Andrew away from all his physical toil, calling him to a different kind of fishing.

Ignoring the time-honored traditions of the day, Jesus proclaimed himself a rabbi worthy of a following of disciples. Rabbis did not call disciples to themselves! Would-be disciples sought out a rabbi under whom they might study. Studying the Torah under a Rabbi was a privilege one had to pay for. Would-be students saved their resources in order that they might be able to study. Despite that, disciples needed to have some income to fund their living while they studied. One does not go off to college with no sense of how to pay tuition. Study under a rabbi was a luxury. It was for those who could afford it.

Jesus did not seem too concerned with such traditions. He did the calling. He offered a different kind of provision. He proposed a different kind of occupation. He took the initiative, calling Andrew, Peter, James, and John to follow him as disciples. “Follow me, and I will transform you into fishers of people.” I will take you from this comfortable, predictable life you know and carry you into uncharted waters. All you need to do is follow me.

It was a rather ambiguous call. It was full of unknown quantities. Andrew did not know much about this Jesus. He had no idea where this “Follow Me” would lead them. He did not know what fishing for people would really mean. He could not picture what it would look like, smell like, or what the results would be.

Andrew understood fishing. You prepared the net, gathering it so that it would release properly, threw it so that it made a clean circle over the patch of water you wanted to fish. You hauled it in, hoping for a good catch. Then you took care not to pierce your skin on the fins. You kept the fish worth eating and threw back the others. You worked on the larger nets, swept them through the water behind the boat, then brought them back in to land. That was a known world, with its repetitive process, known variables, and visible results from physical effort.

Just walking up to Andrew, one would know he was a fisherman. There was no way to quell the fishy aroma of the workday. He could not hide his profession. It was imprinted in his clothing and wafted through the air around him. What would distinguish him in becoming a fisher of people? What would his life look like? How would people view him? How would he earn a living?

We certainly don’t know all the questions that floated through his mind. He certainly seemed unprepared for what lay ahead. How does mending and casting nets prepare someone for being Jesus’ disciple? Then again, who knew what lay ahead? None of them had any sense that Jesus’ ministry would end on the cross. Andrew had no idea that he would become one of the twelve looked to for leadership and guidance in the aftermath of Jesus’ death and resurrection. Perhaps if he had known, he would have clung all the harder to the net in his hand. He didn’t know. Jesus did not say. He simply said, “Follow me.”

It wasn’t just a game. This was not a round of 42 among friends. The stakes were not about who would host the next game. This was about what would become of his life. There were myriad possibilities, but Andrew only really knew that Jesus was calling him into the unknown. Was he willing to give up the known, comfortable, tested, and true to embark into uncharted waters? Are we?

Jesus’ call to discipleship has always been rather open-ended. We don’t really know where it will lead, what it will really look like, how it will turn out. We can imagine all sorts of things, both as positive and negative. Like a marriage proposal, however, it is a call into an uncharted future. It is a call to cast our lives upon the character and faithfulness of the one saying, “Follow Me.”

Are we willing to write over our lives to God as a blank check? What would hold us back from giving everything for the gospel of Christ Jesus? Andrew stood there with the casting net in his hand. He had to make a decision. Would he remain in the safety of the known, or take the challenge to follow wherever Jesus would lead him to minister? What will we do with the nets in our hands? Is Jesus still trying to get our attention? “Follow Me.”

—©2008 Christopher B. Harbin