The Unqualified Qualified: The Call to Follow Text: Matthew 4:18-22
Introduction: The King's Prerogative
We live in an age that has inverted the very concept of a divine call. Modern man, should he deign to consider God at all, treats Him like a potential contractor. He reviews God's resume, considers His offer, and then, after much deliberation, decides whether or not to hire Jesus for the position of "personal savior." We have made ourselves the arbiters, the decision-makers, the ones with the authority to initiate the relationship. But this is a profound and damnable error. God is not looking for volunteers; He is issuing summonses. He is not extending an invitation that can be RSVP'd at our leisure. He is the King, and the King commands.
The scene before us in Matthew's gospel is not a gentle suggestion. It is a display of absolute, unquestionable, and glorious authority. Jesus of Nazareth, having just begun His public ministry, walks by the Sea of Galilee and begins to assemble His kingdom's inner circle. And notice who He calls. He does not go to the seminaries in Jerusalem. He does not seek out the philosophically astute, the politically connected, or the religiously polished. He goes to the fish market. He calls blue-collar workers, men who smelled of fish and sweat, men whose hands were calloused from nets and ropes. He calls ordinary men.
This is a foundational principle of the kingdom. God does not call the qualified; He qualifies the called. He does not look for ability, but for availability. He is not impressed by our strength, but rather delights to display His strength in our weakness. The world looks for impressive resumes, but God looks for empty hands. This passage is a frontal assault on every form of human pride and self-sufficiency. It establishes the pattern of discipleship from the outset: the authority is all Christ's, the power is all His, and the glory is all His. We are not partners in this enterprise; we are projects. We are not co-authors; we are the clay, and He is the Potter.
The Text
Now as Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon who was called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And He said to them, “Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.” And immediately they left their nets and followed Him. And going on from there He saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets; and He called them. And immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed Him.
(Matthew 4:18-22 LSB)
The Sovereign Summons (v. 18-19)
We begin with the simple, yet profound, act of the King's observation and call.
"Now as Jesus was walking by the Sea of Galilee, He saw two brothers, Simon who was called Peter, and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea; for they were fishermen. And He said to them, 'Follow Me, and I will make you fishers of men.'" (Matthew 4:18-19)
Jesus is walking. This is the incarnate God, treading the dust of His own creation. He is not distant or aloof; He has come down. He is walking where ordinary men work. And He sees them. This is not a casual glance. The gaze of Christ is a creative gaze. When He truly sees a man, He sees not only what he is, but what He will make him to be. He saw Simon, the impulsive, unreliable fisherman. But He also saw Peter, the rock, the apostle, the preacher of Pentecost.
They were fishermen, engaged in their daily toil. They were not seeking a rabbi. They were not in a posture of spiritual contemplation. They were working. And it is into the mundane, into the ordinary course of our lives, that the call of Christ so often comes. Grace is an interruption. It breaks into our routines, overturns our plans, and redefines our vocations.
The command itself is startling in its simplicity and breathtaking in its authority: "Follow Me." This is not a request. It is an imperial summons. It contains no explanation, no negotiation of terms, no outline of the benefits package. It is a call to absolute, personal allegiance. The central demand of Christianity is not a set of ethics, a doctrinal system, or a religious ritual. The central demand is Christ Himself. All the ethics, doctrines, and rituals flow from this primary allegiance. To be a Christian is to be a follower of Jesus.
And with the command comes a promise: "and I will make you fishers of men." Notice the grammar. "You follow, I will make." The disciples' part is the following; Christ's part is the making. They were skilled at catching fish, a task requiring patience, knowledge, and strength. Jesus promises to take that same vocational skill set and transfigure it for a far higher purpose. He does not obliterate their personalities or their histories; He redeems them. He will take their knowledge of nets and teach them to handle the net of the gospel. He will take their understanding of the sea and teach them to navigate the turbulent waters of human souls. This is the genius of God's grace. He makes us into what we were always meant to be. He doesn't just save us from sin; He saves us into a glorious, God-given purpose.
The Radical Response (v. 20)
The response to this divine summons is as startling as the call itself.
"And immediately they left their nets and followed Him." (Matthew 4:20 LSB)
The key word here is "immediately." There is no hesitation, no deliberation, no "let me think about it." Why? Because the authority of the one calling was self-authenticating. When the King speaks, loyal subjects obey. When the Creator calls, the creature responds. This is a picture of effectual grace. The call of Christ creates the response it demands. It is not that Peter and Andrew weighed the pros and cons and decided Jesus was a good career move. It is that the power inherent in the Word of Christ overcame all their natural resistance and inertia.
They left their nets. This was not a small thing. These nets were their livelihood, their means of provision, their security. In leaving their nets, they were abandoning their old way of life and casting themselves entirely upon the provision of Christ. Discipleship is not adding Jesus to our lives as a helpful accessory. It is an act of radical abandonment and radical trust. It is a declaration of dependence. To follow Christ means that He becomes our security, He becomes our provision, He becomes our future.
Delayed obedience is simply a polished form of disobedience. The call of the gospel is always a call to immediate repentance and faith. To say "later" to Christ is to say "no" to Christ. The devil is perfectly happy with a legion of men who intend to follow Jesus tomorrow.
The Pattern Repeated (v. 21-22)
Lest we think the case of Peter and Andrew was a bizarre anomaly, Matthew immediately shows us the pattern repeating itself.
"And going on from there He saw two other brothers, James the son of Zebedee, and John his brother, in the boat with Zebedee their father, mending their nets; and He called them. And immediately they left the boat and their father, and followed Him." (Matthew 4:21-22 LSB)
Again, Jesus sees them. Again, they are ordinary men at work. Mending nets is not glamorous work, but it is necessary work. And Christ calls men who are faithful in the small things. He is not looking for men who are waiting for some great thing to do, but for men who are doing the task in front of them with diligence.
And again, the response is immediate. But this time, the cost is even clearer. "They left the boat and their father." They left not only their capital equipment, the boat, which likely represented a significant family investment, but they also left their father, Zebedee. This is a hard saying for our family-obsessed culture. But Jesus is teaching a crucial lesson about the kingdom. Allegiance to Him creates a new, primary loyalty that transcends all others. He is not anti-family, but He is pro-Christ. He must be preeminent. If our family ties, as good and as God-given as they are, become an obstacle to obeying the direct call of Christ, then those ties must be loosened. "Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me" (Matthew 10:37).
Zebedee is left in the boat. We are not told his reaction, but we can imagine his shock. Two of his sons, his business partners, in the middle of a workday, drop everything and walk off after an itinerant preacher. This is the disruptive power of the gospel. It rearranges our lives, our priorities, and our relationships around the supreme reality of Jesus Christ. It is a call to a new family, the family of God, where our relationships are redefined by our shared allegiance to our elder brother, Jesus.
Conclusion: Your Nets, Your Boat, Your Father
It is a grave mistake to read this passage as a quaint historical account of how the first disciples were called. This is not just their story; it is our story. The same Christ who walked by the Sea of Galilee walks through the world today by His Spirit, and He is still calling men to follow Him.
The call is the same: "Follow Me." It is a call to leave your own self-directed life and to place yourself under His authority, to learn His ways, to walk in His steps. And the promise is the same: "I will make you." He will make you into something you could never be on your own. He will take your gifts, your work, your personality, and He will sanctify them for His kingdom purposes. He will make you a fisher of men.
But the demand for abandonment is also the same. What are your nets? What is the source of your security, your identity, the thing you trust in to provide for you? Is it your job? Your bank account? Your reputation? Jesus says, "Leave it. Follow Me."
What is your boat? What is the larger enterprise you are a part of, the family business, the career trajectory that defines you? What about your father? What earthly loyalty, what relationship, what tradition holds the primary allegiance of your heart? The call of Christ cuts across all of it. He is not asking for a place in your life. He is demanding the throne of your life.
The response must be the same: "immediately." Not when you have your life in order. Not when you have figured out all the theological details. Not when it is convenient. Now. For the King has walked by, He has seen you, and He has called you. To leave everything and follow Him is not to lose anything of value. It is to trade the trinkets of this world for the infinite treasure of the King Himself. It is to lose your life, and in doing so, to find it for the very first time.