Following Jesus: Nimbleness Rooted in Trust

Third Sunday After Epiphany (Year A)

"Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." 

- Matthew 4:12-23 

I was once asked by a parishioner who attended a Roman Catholic mass on Saturday with her husband, and attended our Presbyterian worship service on Sunday morning, “Do you and Father Bob study together? You both read the same gospel texts each Sunday, yet your interpretations are slightly different.” I told her of the Revised Common Lectionary, and that perhaps Father Bob, whom I did not know, was following the Lectionary. She was amazed and pleased that our congregations seemed to be nearly on the same page.

As Transitional General Presbyter, I am beginning to understand the scripture passages from a different vantage point, and seeing new insights I may have missed during my pastoral years. This Sunday’s passage, of the calling of the disciples, is looking a little strange when one considers the familial duties and fiduciary responsibilities of these men who had said yes to Jesus.

We've been taught that good leadership means striving to find solutions for those one leads. But the disciples teach us something different - they had one answer, and it was enough. 

When Jesus Said "Follow Me"

Jesus didn't walk up to Simon and Andrew with a business proposal. He didn't hand them a five-year plan or a feasibility study. He didn't explain the organizational structure they'd be joining or show them the return on investment (ROI) on leaving their nets.

He just said: Follow me.

And they did. Not because they understood everything. Not because they'd analyzed the decision. Not because it was safe. They dropped their nets and went.

Most of us would need a lot more information. We'd ask questions: Where are we going? How long will this take? What about my family? What if this doesn't work out? Can I at least see a draft of the strategic plan?

But Simon and Andrew didn't ask. They just moved.

What Made That Possible?

The thing is, they could be nimble - truly responsive to change - because they weren't clinging to a plan. They were following a person.

Think about what happens when you're walking with someone you trust. You don't need a map. When they turn left, you turn left. When they pause, you pause. When they point and say, "This way," you go. You're responsive because your attention is on them, not on your predetermined route.

The disciples adjusted to John's arrest, to hostility, to confusion about who Jesus really was—all of it—not because they were brilliant strategists, but because their fundamental anchor was relational. Jesus was with them. That was the plan.

What They Actually Gave Up

Let's sit with this for a moment, because it's harder than it sounds.

Simon and Andrew didn't just leave a job. They left their nets.

Your nets represent your security. Your way of feeding yourself. Your family's reputation in the community - they'd been fishermen for generations, probably. Their identity. When someone asks, "What do you do?" you've got an answer. You have skills. You have experience. You have a role.

James and John left their father, Zebedee, in the boat.

This is looking even stranger to me. It's neither normal nor is it a small thing in a culture where you were supposed to honor your parents and continue the family business. 

Walking away from Zebedee meant walking away from duty, from expectation, from the future that was supposed to be theirs. They chose something they didn't fully understand over something they did understand.

What they left:

• A steady income

• Their identity

• Family obligations

• A predictable future

• Control over what happened next

Jesus never said it would be easier. He just said, "I will make you fish for people" - and that was transformation, not explanation.

The Uncomfortable Question

Here's where it gets real for those of us in churches:

What are we holding onto that's keeping us from moving when we sense God's call?

It's not that these things are bad. Zebedee's fishing business was legitimate and good. Family loyalty is a virtue. But they became obstacles when following Jesus fully required letting them go.Let me start with a clear confession. My understanding of this Sunday’s gospel lesson seems to have shifted radically. I’m in my seventh month as your Transitional General Presbyter. Reading this text from my new role opens up new vistas. The calling of the disciples, and their immediate responses, used to be exciting news to me. 

However, today, looking at it again, their responses look very reckless. As Transitional General Presbyter, I’m certain the Commission on Ministry would be very uncomfortable to hear Session is abandoning proper strategic planning, deliberate discernment, and throwing caution to the wind as they follow the newest trend. I would join them in the gnashing of teeth.

The Presbytery would most likely form an Administrative Commission to look into this recklessness. So much for spending three decades interpreting this text with glee. Now that you understand my newfound discomfort due to new responsibilities and fiduciary duties, let us see what’s in there.

The text itself shifts something fundamental in how we think about what it means to move with purpose and nimbleness.

Here's what strikes me: We've been taught that good leadership means strategic planning until we find the best answers. But the disciples teach us something different - they had one answer, and it was enough.

When Jesus Said "Follow Me"

Jesus didn't walk up to Simon and Andrew with a business proposal. He didn't hand them a five-year plan or a feasibility study. He didn't explain the organizational structure they'd be joining or show them the return on investment (ROI) on leaving their nets.

He just said: Follow me.

And they did. Not because they understood everything. Not because they'd analyzed the decision. Not because it was safe. They dropped their nets and went.

Most of us Presbyterians would rightly need a lot more information. We'd ask questions: Where are we going? How long will this take? What about my family? What if this doesn't work out? Can I at least see a draft of the strategic plan?

If you’ve been to a Presbytery meeting, you know.

But Simon and Andrew didn't ask. They just moved. Really?

What Made That Possible?

The thing is, they could be nimble - truly responsive to change - because they weren't clinging to a plan. They were following a person.

Think about what happens when you're walking with someone you trust. I ride with my colleagues to Presbytery meetings. I trust my colleagues. I even sleep through the journey. With GPS, we don't even need a map. When they turn left, you turn left. When they pause, you pause. When they point and say, "This way," you go. You're responsive because your attention is on them, not on your predetermined route.

The disciples adjusted to John's arrest, to hostility, to confusion about who Jesus really was - all of it - not because they were brilliant strategists, but because their fundamental anchor was relational. Jesus was with them. That was the plan.

What They Actually Gave Up

To me, this passage is turning out to be harder than it sounds.

Simon and Andrew didn't just leave a job. They left their nets.

Your nets represent your security. Your income. Your investments. Your way of feeding yourself. Your family's reputation in the community - they'd been fishermen for generations, probably. Their identity. When someone asks, "What do you do?" you've got an answer. “I’m a fisherman,” said Andrew. You have skills. You have experience. You have a respectable role in society.

In our congregations and our Presbytery, we might be holding:

• Buildings we've invested in – "Our parents gave their lives to build this sanctuary"

• Programs we're known for – "This is what we do. This is our thing."

• An identity we've carefully crafted – "We're the traditional church" or "We're the progressive church" or "We're the contemporary church"

• The comfort of how things have always been – "Our people like it this way"

• Our need to be in control – "We need to see the whole plan before we move"

• What people think of us – "What will happen to our reputation if we change?"

• Something we're actually good at – "We've mastered this. Why would we do anything else?"

None of these are evil. They're often beautiful things. But when they keep us from following, they've become our nets instead of Jesus being our net.

The question isn't whether these things are good. The question is: Are they our master, or is Jesus?

The Courage Factor

Let's name something true and slightly frightening: Following without a complete plan feels irresponsible. My whole being feels like screaming: Don’t do it!

We live in a culture that tells us good leaders have vision statements and strategic plans and contingencies. We're supposed to minimize risk and know the answers. To walk into uncertainty feels almost reckless - like we're not taking our responsibility seriously.

But the disciples discovered something that might sound crazy: You're actually safer trusting Jesus with uncertainty than you are clinging to your own understanding.

They didn't know where they were going. They couldn't have predicted persecution or the cross. But they discovered that Jesus’ presence - right there with them - was more solid than any plan they could have made.

That takes courage. Real courage.

What This Actually Looks Like for our Presbytery

So what does the Spirit invite us to actually ask ourselves?

First: What are we defending that we should be releasing?

Are there programs you maintain mostly out of loyalty to how things used to be, even though their life force is gone? 

Are there buildings you're stewarding when you could be more nimble, adaptable, and alive if you released them? 

Are there organizational structures you're protecting when the church could breathe much better without them?

This isn't about careless abandonment. It's about honest evaluation: Is this what God is calling us toward, or are we just trying to maintain something?

Second: Where is Jesus actually calling us?

Maybe into neighborhoods where we don't currently serve. Maybe into partnership with people we haven't worked with before. 

Maybe into forms of worship or community care or discipleship that feel unfamiliar. Maybe toward releasing some control and trusting lay leaders to do things their own way.

Where do you feel that small, quiet stirring that says, This is what we could become?

Third: Are you waiting for a complete map before you'll move?

Jesus gave the disciples exactly four things:

• A clear call: Follow me

• A promise: I will make you

• A mission: Fish for people

• His presence: He walked with them

That wasn't much by modern standards. But it was enough.

What would change if our Presbytery decided it was enough too?

Fourth: Who or what is your "Zebedee"?

There's a good person or a good thing that you might need to leave behind - not because it's wrong, but because following Jesus fully requires it. 

What is it? Can you name it? Can you honor it even as you release it?

The Thing About Following Jesus

Here's what's beautiful about this: When you're following Jesus instead of a plan, you can adapt.

The disciples didn't need to schedule a strategic review when John got arrested. They didn't need to convene a committee when people got angry or confused. They didn't need permission from the Presbytery office to try something new. They had Jesus in front of them, and they followed.

That's what true nimbleness looks like. Not chaos. Not carelessness. But responsiveness born from attunement to someone you trust.

There are many of you at Mission Presbytery who are formidable spiritual leaders, as all ruling and teaching elders are - who pray, who listen, who sense God's movement - you make good decisions without waiting for official approval. You can experiment without rigidity. You can pivot without panic. You can release what needs releasing without shame. Why? Because your anchor isn't your plan. Your anchor is Jesus.

The Promise That Changes Everything

There's something Jesus says that I keep coming back to: "I will make you fish for people."

Notice he didn't say, "Use your fishing skills differently." He said, "I will make you." He said, "I will transform you."

The disciples were already skilled fishermen. But Jesus wasn't interested in just repurposing what they already were. He was promising to remake them.

This means:

• Your current gifts and experience matter, but they're not your final form

• God will actually change you through following, not just use you as you are

• The mission will transform you as much as you transform the world

• Being remade is part of what it means to follow

A Different Prayer

Most of our prayers for our congregations might sound like: "Jesus, show us the complete plan so we can execute it well."

Maybe what we actually need to pray is: "Jesus, sharpen our ears so we can hear your voice. Give us courage to release what we're clinging to. Transform us as we follow. Help us believe that your presence with us is the only plan we actually need."

The Bottom Line

Here's what I think the disciples understood and we sometimes forget:

You don't need a strategy when you have a trustworthy guide.

They walked with Jesus. That was enough. They didn't understand where it would lead. They couldn't have predicted what would happen. But they knew who they were following, and that made them free - free to adapt, free to respond, free to move when Jesus moved.

Several people at Mission Presbytery have been discerning that we need to follow Jesus by creating new ministries instead of simply closing struggling churches.

We ask you to prayerfully engage and participate fully whenever opportunities arise to follow where the Spirit leads us in this direction. Some day it will come up for discussion and possible adoption.  

Let us pray for courage to respond to the movement of the Holy Spirit to become more nimble and adaptable in our discernment to follow Jesus, as he calls and gathers all of God’s children from all corners of the world.