“Follow me, and I will make you fish for
people.” (Matthew 4:19)
The story in Matthew’s gospel of Jesus
calling the first disciples (Matthew 4:12-35) has always had me a little
perplexed. In Luke’s gospel it makes sense: Jesus performs a really cool
miracle. He has these professional fishermen who have fished all night—these guys
who are sure, based on their own
personal expertise that there’s no
catch to be had—drag their butts back out into the water and shazzam! The Sea
of Galilee is spewing fish like a slot machine paying off in quarters. Now that story makes sense. If you’re
confronted with a miracle, you may well have faith in the guy who performed it.
But Matthew and Mark’s telling of the call
of these first disciples offers no explanation. Jesus just wanders up to these
fishermen and says, “Follow me,” and they follow him. Why? What is it about
this dude that gets working men to walk off the job (and leave their dad in the
case of James and John) and start marching around behind him? Would you do it?
Short of performing a miracle, it’s
awfully hard to motivate folks to leave the comfortable and familiar and set
off into the unknown. But I imagine that, given their circumstances, Peter and
Andrew and James and John said to each other, “What have we got to lose? Things
are crappy enough as it is. John the Baptist is in jail, so we might as well
give this new guy a chance.”
It’s significant, I think, that Matthew
marries this story of call and response to the promise from Isaiah: “The people
who sat in darkness have seen a great light, and for those who sat in the
region and shadow of death light has dawned.” Things must’ve been pretty dark
for working stiffs in Jesus’ day. They could choose to give up and sit in the
darkness, or they could take a chance on finding light.
Matthew says that Jesus withdrew to
Galilee after John had been arrested. Galilee was the territory run by Herod
Antipas, the tyrant who arrested John. Maybe the fishermen were impressed with
the gutsiness of a preacher who would come and continue the message of a man
who was already in danger of death and do so right under the nose of the ruler.
Maybe they wanted to hang on to that faint glimmer of hope that God had not
abandoned them completely, and so they were willing to take a chance on a man
who told them that God’s rule was near, and that they had to change their way
of thinking in order to experience it. Maybe they were just plain friggin’
desperate.
I think we all know that, when times are
hard, people are willing to fall for anyone who comes along with a slick line
of b.s. But these guys not only followed Jesus, but stayed with him. The proof was in the deeds, not just the words.
Jesus showed them compassion for the ones on the margins of society, the sick
and those with diseases. He also broke the barriers by welcoming those from the
other side of the Jordan in the land of the Gentiles (vv. 24-25). This must’ve
been something new they hadn’t seen before.
Today in the United States it seems that
just about everyone who is a registered Democrat thinks he or she should run
for President. Some of the candidates have dropped out, but some are still slugging
it out, trying to attract voters. If someone wants to get my vote, I want to see a little Jesus in them. I want to be challenged
to repent—that is, to change my mind and see things a new way. I want to see
compassion for the ones who have been left out, just as Jesus showed love for
those who had been discarded from the society of his day. I want to see faith.
I want to know that someone believes that change can happen, and that that
change will be for God’s glory. Please, someone, give me a vision of a world
and a society that works as God intends—full of peace, mercy, and justice—and show
me how we’ll get there.
But the story isn’t just about the
charismatic power of Jesus. It’s about the willingness of the fishermen to
leave their nets and follow him. Certainly God Almighty, if displeased with
this hapless rock we call Earth, could just snap his/her Almighty fingers and
make everything perfect again. But God is a more loving God than that. God
desires our active participation.
The story of the call of the first
disciples comes right after the story of Jesus’ temptation by the devil in the
wilderness. The two tales together remind me of a Kris Kristofferson song
called “To Beat the Devil.” The lyrics tell of a down-and-out musician who is
advised by a mysterious stranger to give up his singing because “no one wants
to know.” The singer is tempted, but ultimately decides:
And you still can hear me singin' to the people who don't
listen,
To the things that I am sayin', prayin' someone's gonna hear.
And I guess I'll die explaining how the things that they complain about,
Are things they could be changin', hopin' someone's gonna care.
To the things that I am sayin', prayin' someone's gonna hear.
And I guess I'll die explaining how the things that they complain about,
Are things they could be changin', hopin' someone's gonna care.
Discipleship
requires that we cast new nets—nets of vision and faith—and be active participants
in changing our world, our church, and ourselves.
Thanks for
reading.
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