“The quiet, passionate insistence of his ‘Follow me” is spoken to those with every power wide awake. If we let the Spirit of God bring us face to face with God, we too shall hear something akin to what Isaiah heard, the still small voice of God, and in perfect freedom will say, ‘Here am I; send me.” (Oswald Chambers).
The first direct encounter Jesus had with his disciples, and one of the last ones, both involved large catches of fish. The message Jesus left them, in both instances, was “Follow me…”
Jesus had already become well known as he walked along the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Crowds pressed on him wherever he went. John the Baptist had prepared many people for the arrival of the Messiah, and some of those people recognized that Jesus of Nazareth was the One. The king had come and had begun to establish his kingdom.
Jesus was compassionate and willing to teach the crowds, seeing they were like sheep without a shepherd. But he desired a small group of men who would join his ministry and walk with him day after day.
These would be the first disciples. He chose fishermen, tradesmen, and tax collectors. Not rabbis, scholars, or teachers.
“Come, follow me,” he said, “and I will send you out to fish for people” (Mt. 4:19). Leave your nets. Leave the family business. Leave all other priorities you’ve had. Sell everything and give it all to the poor. Let the dead bury their dead. Just follow.
He didn’t tell them what to expect. He didn’t provide up an itinerary, a job description, a three-year plan, or a benefits package. He didn’t hand them a contract to sign. They were simply to follow, no questions asked. They would learn as they went.
And learn they did. They learned to be followers, which is what disciples do. Disciples follow a teacher and his teaching, becoming wholly identified by it and with it. They often misunderstood his mission or motives, but they trusted him enough to live for him.
When we follow a leader, we assume he is leading us somewhere. Where were these disciples following him to? Where was he headed?
Jesus was headed to his death, and then, to his resurrection. Though they struggled to accepts his prophecies of persecution, crucifixion, and resurrection, he continued to tell them,
“Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross daily and follow me” (Mt. 16:24; Mk. 8:34; Luke 9:23). Follow me into death and into resurrection life.
He tells us the same. Deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow. Trust me and my word. If you’re not willing to do that, you’re not ready to be a disciple (Lk. 14:27).
His ministry training has starts with following, progresses (hopefully) to imitating him, and then to leading and feeding his other sheep the way he did.
Jesus wasn’t fooling and didn’t accept lame excuses or power-hungry motives. But for those who committed wholeheartedly, he did make one pretty great promise:
“I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness but will have the light of life” (John 8:12).
Follow the light, he says. It doesn’t mean that you’ll always know what you’re doing or where he is leading you, just that you won’t stumble in the darkness along the way.
Is that enough? Can we trust him to lead, even when we know he’s leading us toward death to our own wishes and ambitions? Death to all that we have counted on to make us feel safe? Death to the philosophies of the world that creep in to corrupt us?
And maybe even literal death for being a follower. Most of those first disciples, after spreading the gospel of Jesus far and wide, were martyred for doing so. Are we prepared for that?
As I tune into the news these days, even for a minute, I cringe at the shallowness, callowness, and corruption of so much of human interaction. So much of what is said and done in the public realm, amidst the crowd, does not help me follow my Lord. It only distracts from single-minded, steading walking upon the path of discipleship.
I can’t risk taking my eyes off the feet of the one who walks just ahead of me, showing me the way. I’ve tried it that way, and I quickly fall into a dark ditch of fear, hopelessness, and discouragement.
But like Peter on the waves, as long as I keep my eyes on Jesus, I can stay above the waters of doubt and darkness. I can follow along the course where the light resides.
Lord, I’ll leave my nets. Without you, I fish all night and come up empty. With you, my nets burst with all that you provide, and I am satisfied.
Let me never stop following you.
