Luke 5
Reading this story immediately brings to mind the parallel incident recorded in John 21. At the highest level, the narratives are the same: Peter is fishing but fails to catch anything, Jesus tells him what to do, and then Peter reels in the largest catch he’s ever seen. Yet the circumstances are entirely different between the stories, and their contrast documents the transformation in Peter’s life. In Luke 5, as the nets are breaking and the boat is sinking, Peter recognizes (in part) who Jesus is. Appropriately, his reaction is awe and fear: “Go away from me, for I am a sinful man!” Three years later, in John 21, Peter’s net is again loaded down with fish, and once again he recognizes who Jesus is. But instead of fear or even awe, his reaction is one of brimming excitement. “It is the Lord!” Unable to contain himself, he puts on his clothes, jumps into the water, and swims for shore.
While we often note that the twelve apostles were an unlikely, rag-tag bunch, what strikes me as even more odd is Jesus’ method of gathering them. He simply walks around and picks them, saying simply, “Follow me.”
Authors with more historical background than I have suggested that this was a common practice of the day; a rabbi would take on students with the words “Follow me.” But whether Jesus’ call is a bizarre demand or a rabbinical convention is irrelevant - he calls out, individually, a dozen men who were going about their business, not expecting or even looking for the career change that ultimately shaped their lives and the course of history.
He doesn’t ask for volunteers. He certainly could have, given the multitudes following him and the numerous times he had to intentionally sneak away to find time alone. He doesn’t have an entrance exam, although that could have been arranged. There isn’t any interview process to guage interest and commitment. And, as we saw with Peter, Jesus doesn’t take a polite “no” for an answer. He is intent on calling particular people for his work.
It’s clear he’s not picking these particular disciples for their scriptural knowledge or cultural background. Nor are they the model of diversity that a college admissions board would seek to admit. A full third of them are Galilean fishermen. I daresay he’s not even picking them for their spiritual readiness, as if somehow these twelve are especially “poor in spirit” or are particularly meek or will more readily connect his teaching with their Jewish history.
Why these twelve? I don’t know. But this I do know: as the worn-out saying goes, “God doesn’t call the equipped. He equips the called.” So when he calls, may we also pull our boats up on the shore, leave everything, and follow Him.
