‘As He was walking by the Lake of Galilee He saw two brothers, Simon, who was called Peter, and his brother Andrew; they were making a cast into the lake with their net, for they were fishermen. And He said to them, “Come after me and I will make you fishers of people.” And at once they left their nets and followed Him.
Going on from there He saw another pair of brothers, James son of Zebedee and his brother John; they were in their boat ... mending their nets, and He called them. And at once, leaving the boat and their father, they followed Him.’
(Matthew 4:18-22)
When we read of Jesus calling his first disciples, the most noticeable feature of their response is that it appears to have been immediate: without hesitation or doubt they simply stopped what they had been doing and followed Him.
Until now, that has been my almost automatic, and only way of viewing the scene; but, with walking having been a more or less continual thread running through my thoughts during recent weeks, the realization that this was the only possible physical response they could have made suddenly became relevant to me.
No cars; no public transport; they were fishermen and had access to boats, but other than on later occasions when they and Jesus used them, they were of no use as a means of staying close to Him. And that is what their following required of them: not just the bodily act of following wherever He would lead but listening, questioning, discussing, pondering, learning, trusting, believing. Following was uncomplicated; it simply meant walking with Him, not just for an hour or two, but remaining in His company: in His presence. It meant being with Him in a way that allowed and enabled Him to fully share His presence with them: to be with them in ways beyond their previous experience and comprehension..
Walking with Jesus is not the same as walking with any other person.
Even when in the company of our closest love: spouse, partner, child, parent, or dearest friend, we walk with another whose heart, mind and spirit – however close we may be – are forever separate from our own. We know them and are known by them, but though the fact remains unrecognized in the constant flow of love between us, we do not know each other completely: our moment by moment emotions, thoughts and imaginings are much more of a private world than most of us would ever admit; and the privacy goes even deeper than that: into the fantastic isolation of false realities in which we dwell without ever really becoming aware of their existence or of the hold they have over us. They occupy and bleed into more of both our intellect and our emotions than we know; at least until a subtle and elusive change is brought about within us: a change which will, at the very least, gradually alter our mindset. If accepted, encouraged and pursued the change will also bring about undeniable changes at a deeper level: it will alter our heartset. It has the power to transform us.
Jesus knows us as no other. He knows the truths that have already taken root in us and those we have not yet accepted; He knows the deceptions that writhe and thrive within us: ways of thinking, believing, feeling and being, scarcely recognized as parts of the persons we believe ourselves to be yet running freely at the supposed centre of our existence.
We can easily settle into a comfortable place where we feel close to our destination; resting awhile will do us no harm – indeed we believe we have earned our rest; all we need do is cover the short distance remaining at some time in the future; it wont take long; we just have to do it before we run out of time – tomorrow, or the day after, will do fine.
In such a time or place there are two things we cannot possibly comprehend: that we have scarcely begun our journey, and that all necessary answers have been made available to us and spring from one particular living source: ‘the Way, the Truth and the Life’ accessed through our own decision to place above all present priorities a commitment to follow Jesus wherever He leads: to come close to Him whatever our doubts and fears: to walk with Him in all weathers, in all seasons, in the brightest day and the darkest night, in the very best and the very worst of what life lays before us.
That decision is not truly made until thought is confirmed by corresponding action: by laying all distractions and excuses aside and following Him: by setting out to walk in His company.
Buddha recognized the need to make such a journey through one’s life: “There are only two mistakes one can make along the road to truth; not going all the way, and not starting.”
Confucius too knew the journey to be necessary and ongoing: “It does not matter how slowly you go so long as you do not stop.”
One way or another, we all make one of these mistakes every day; we either give ourselves a break, a rest, or a longer holiday, or we perpetuate our preparations without ever setting forth on the path before us.
We believe we can wait forever to follow our dreams; that our tomorrows will always be there.
