Closely, Safely, Collectively, Immediately

Scripture: Matthew 4:18-22

Years ago my parents attended the funeral of someone they knew, though not very well. The funeral lasted for a long time and, just when my parents thought it was over, a family member announced that the service would continue at the grave site. My parents looked at each other, shared a silent moment of marital conspiracy, and decided to head for home. So they nodded politely at the other attendees, got in their car, and drove off. As my father was pulling down their street he happened to look in his rearview mirror, where he saw a horrific sight: a whole line of cars, assuming my father was in the funeral procession headed to the grave site, had followed him home.

Now, I think this story has a moral: you have to know who you’re following and you have to know where you’re going. The fourth chapter of Matthew also tells us some things about deciding who to follow, and how to follow, and even how to lead. I want to take a close look at this passage, and particularly at the wonderfully simple and wonderfully powerful invitation Jesus extended to each of the four fishermen and extends to each of us: "Follow me." And I’d like to take that close look with four words in mind: closely, safely, collectively, and immediately.

Let’s begin by remembering a bit about the context of this passage. It comes very early in Jesus’s public ministry. He had an amazing new message to bring to the world. He wanted people to listen to him. He needed to establish a faith that would embrace everyone and would endure forever.

If you or I were called to such a task we would probably be tempted to go to the best parts of town, the centers of political power, the universities, and the churches. We would try to recruit the wealthy, the influential, the educated, and the devout. We would establish committees, review resumes, consider credentials, develop a strategic plan, write a mission statement (no pun intended) and so on and so on. But God’s ways and our ways are often quite different. And thank heaven for that—literally.

So where did Jesus go to begin his ministry? To the Sea of Galilee. And who did he recruit there? Four fishermen. Working fishermen. Not four guys lazing around in a bass boat with nothing better to do. But four hard-working no-nonsense don’t-mess-with-me laborers. And when Jesus approached them they were deep in their task, nets in hand.

The Bible tells us, though, that when Jesus invited them to follow him they did so immediately. Immediately. For some reason, these four fishermen understood that they needed to make a decision, to choose, to go in a new direction, to leave old things behind—in short, to follow. So they did. Immediately.

This prompts an obvious question: why would they do that? Why would they walk away from their work, their families, and their lives to follow a relatively unknown itinerant preacher? Why would they up and leave poor old Zebedee? Can you imagine how amazed Zebedee must have been when his sons dropped their nets and walked off to follow Jesus? Can you imagine how awkward it must have been when Zebedee arrived home without them?

Why did the four fishermen follow Jesus, and follow him without hesitation? Well, we know why they didn’t do it. They didn’t do it because they were perfect or, to put it more pointedly, because they were better “followers” than you and me. It is true that they came to love Jesus dearly. But it is also true that they came to doubt him and deny him.

Nor do we have any reason to believe they followed him because he performed a miracle for them. Neither Matthew nor Mark talk about anything remarkable happening on this occasion, aside from the occasion itself, aside from four fishermen dropping their nets to follow a carpenter from Nazareth.

Luke does tell the story a little differently. Luke tells us that Jesus filled the nets of the fishermen and then called them to follow. Luke does not, however, say that they followed because he filled their nets. And it is a good thing Luke does not say this, since the claim would be unbelievable.

I have fished since I was a child. have known sport fishermen and professional fishermen, fly fishermen and bait fishermen, seven year old fishermen and seventy year old fishermen. But I have never known a fisherman who decided to quit just when the fishing got good. Those fishermen may have stopped fishing despite the fact that their nets were full, but they certainly would not have stopped fishing because their nets were full.

I want to suggest to you that the Bible tells us exactly why the fishermen followed Jesus. But it tells us in an indirect and subtle way. To understand why the fishermen followed Jesus all we need to do is look, very carefully, at what he said to to them. And then we need to listen, very carefully, to what he says to us.

Jesus said two things to the fishermen. He said “follow me.” And he said “and I will make you fish for people.” Let’s start with the first words, "follow me."

“Follow me” is a exquisitely simple phrase that does a lot of work. Those two words say many different things. When someone says “follow me” they are saying “come along with me.” To follow someone is to travel with them, close to them.

Have you ever had this happen: You are with a group that decides to drive somewhere. You have to go in your own car but you do not know how to get where everyone is going. So some well-intentioned person says “follow me.” But then they peel away from the curb, go thirty miles an hour above the speed limit, and race through yellow lights just as they change to red. Of course, you can’t follow them because you can’t stay close. Gradually, you fall behind. And then you are lost.

Jesus called the fishermen, and calls us, to a “closer walk.” We cannot follow at a distance.

“Follow me.” Having someone follow us also allows us to keep them safe. If someone stays with us, near us, right behind us, we can watch over them and help them arrive at their destination safely and securely.

Don’t get me wrong. When we choose to follow Jesus we do put ourselves at risk. We do put ourselves in danger of losing some things that are dear to us: like our anger; our intolerance; our prejudices; our complacency; our selfishness; our eagerness to judge others; our reluctance to speak truth to power; our indifference toward injustice.

It is one of the great paradoxes of our faith. When we choose to follow Jesus we risk losing everything—everything that finally doesn’t matter. And when we choose to follow Jesus we gain everything—everything that finally does matter. Jesus taught his disciples about this paradox when he said “If any man would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it.” With respect to the things that matter, we are never safer than when we follow Jesus Christ.

Some time ago Lisa and I toured the Park Street Congregational Church in Grand Rapids, Michigan. It has some famous Louis Tiffany stained glass windows we wanted to see. One of those windows shows Jesus walking along a rocky ridge. On both sides of the ridge the edge drops off dramatically. But Jesus strides along peacefully, confidently, fearlessly. Two lambs follow behind him as closely as they possibly can. They peer over the edges in wide-eyed astonishment. But they follow safely, because they follow the Son of the living God.

“Follow me.” I find it fascinating that in this passage in Matthew Jesus did not recruit one disciple—he recruited four. He built a community of followers that they might enjoy the blessings not only of His presence, but of their presence. They did not simply follow Him; they followed Him together.

This reminds me of a familiar sight on the streets of many towns. I’ll bet you’ve seen it, too. A teacher has drawn the unenviable assignment of taking a group of kindergarten students on a field trip. In an effort to maintain some sort of control over the herd the teacher has taken a long rope and given each child a place to hold. They follow the teacher along, safely connected to their leader and to each other. They yank this way and that and their path does not follow a precisely straight line. But they get where they need to go, and they get there together.

I think this depicts our own journeys perfectly. Along we go, children of God, trying to follow, sometimes wandering off to pursue a distraction, pulled safely back into line by those on the journey with us, tugged gently forward by the one we follow.

“Follow me.” Jesus said this, but he said something more. He said “and I will make you fish for people.” In other words, Jesus did not simply invite the disciples to follow. He also invited them to lead. He extended an extraordinary invitation to four ordinary people. It was an act of trust. It was an act of respect. It was an act of hope. It was an act of faith. It was an act of love.

Why did the four fishermen drop everything to follow Jesus? Because, as it turns out, he did perform a miracle for them. He loved them. And He loves us, too.

Jesus calls us to follow, and calls us to lead, and in order to do both things we need only do one thing: love. Oh, how simple the message; oh, how often we miss it. When the great theologian Karl Barth visited Princeton someone asked him if he could summarize the principal message of the dozens of volumes he had written. He thought a moment and said: “Yes, I can. Jesus loves me this I know; for the Bible tells me so.”

Oh, how simple the message; oh, how often we miss it. But Jesus calls us with a clear and unmistakable command. He calls us to love the sick, the imprisoned, and the oppressed. He calls us to love the poor, the ugly, and the addicted. He calls us to love the stranger we don’t know at all and the family member we know all too well. He calls us to love our neighbors. He calls us to love our enemies. He calls us to love ourselves, which sometimes may seem hardest of all.

Jesus calls us to love those we may find unlovable, and that poses a serious challenge. But, as C.S. Lewis suggested in Mere Christianity, even when you cannot love someone you can at least act as if you do. Lewis observes, “As soon as we do this we find one of the great secrets. When you are behaving as if you love someone, you will presently come to love [them].”

When we love, we follow Jesus. When we love, we gather others to his flock. When we love, we serve the kingdom of God. As the old hymn says, it is with “deeds of love and mercy [that] the heavenly kingdom comes.”

Jesus calls us to love, and therefore also forbids us from hating. We are forbidden from hating someone because of the color of their skin. We are forbidden from hating someone because of their gender. We are forbidden from hating someone because of their politics. We are forbidden from hating someone because of who they love. We are forbidden from hating. Period.

To love—joyfully and fully and unconditionally, as God loves you—that is what it means to follow. That is what it means to drop your nets and come along. That is what it means to bring others along with you. That is what it means to lead, in Jesus’ name.

This day, and every day, Jesus renews his invitation to us: “Follow me.” And we know what we need to do to accept. Put aside old grievances; make a friend of a stranger; visit someone we know is lonely; invite someone to dinner, offer someone a ride, tell someone a joke, send someone a letter. Give. And forgive. Love.

It is the most wonderful invitation ever extended in the history of the world. Let us respond with all our hearts and minds and voices. And let us draw up to our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ—closely, safely, collectively, immediately.

And follow him.

And follow him.

And follow him.

Amen.