Jesus’ call to come and follow is never as easy or convenient as we would like. Jesus rarely sends a polite invitation, with plenty of lead time, so we might get our affairs in order. Jesus usually shows up in the middle of life as we plan family vacations, make career decisions, and dinner plans with friends and says, “Follow me!”
Peter and Andrew were in the middle of doing what they had always done. I am sure they had a routine for returning to shore. Andrew would pilot the boat because Peter was too impulsive to be trusted at the helm. Andrew would keep Peter busy with preparing their catch for the market. The same is true for John, James, and their dad. They worked together to keep the family business afloat. None of the disciples—not Simon Peter, Andrew, James, John, Philip, Bartholomew, Matthew, Thomas, the other James, Thaddeus, Simon, or Judas—were looking for a new career or radical change. Yet, when Jesus comes calling, radical change is what you get.
Let’s name that this story bothers us. Jesus’ call to Andrew and Peter, James and John, raises questions we would rather not consider. Did they know to where and to what they were following? What about their responsibilities? What about James and John’s dad? What would have happened had the men said, “No?” Certainly they had questions and doubts, right?
We do not like disruptions. We prefer that Jesus send us a calendar invite or bless our plans rather than upending them. The Jesus we meet in the gospels is a divine disruptor. He calls, commands, and calms us, not on our terms, but on his.
I know this firsthand. When Jesus called me to ministry, I wasn’t searching for a new path. By all accounts, I had my life set up—a successful job as a government security contractor, married to my high school sweetheart, a new house, and a child on the way. Everything was lining up the way I had planned. My call into ordained ministry was in no way convenient. In fact, it was disruptive (just ask Allison). But looking back, I now see it for what it was: a gift. Because Christ’s call, while costly, always leads to life.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer understood this better than most. He saw what happens when Christianity gets too comfortable, too entangled with security and self-preservation. He reminds us that discipleship isn’t about following a principle, an idea, or a cause—it’s about following a person. And that person, Jesus Christ, demands everything from us.
This is why we are wrestling with “The Cost of Discipleship” throughout Lent. Dietrich Bonhoeffer reminds us that grace is not cheap—it is costly. Discipleship will demand everything of us but offer us more in return. As we continue this journey toward the cross of Christ, we ask ourselves: “Are we ready to follow, no matter the cost?”
Jesus does not call us when we are “ready.” There is no “checklist” of qualifications to determine your readiness. He says, “Follow me,” and expects us to move.
Matthew tells us Andrew and Peter, and James and John “immediately left their nets and followed him.” There was no time for a family consult. No deliberations over risks and rewards. No waiting to be spiritually ready. They just go.
This is the part of the scene that disturbs us the most. We live in a world where big decisions require time, planning, and risk assessment. You do not quit your job without a backup plan. You do not abandon the family business without first ensuring everyone will be OK. You do not step into the unknown because a traveling preacher came by and said, “Follow me.”
Or, do you?
Bonhoeffer puts it bluntly: “If you don’t believe, take the first step all the same, for you are bidden to take it.”[i]
That is the scandal of discipleship—obedience comes first, and understanding follows. Faith is not a prerequisite for following Jesus; it is a byproduct. We want certainty before commitment, but Jesus says, “Start walking, and you will see.”
Think about it: None of the disciples had their personal theology figured out before following Jesus. In no way are the first twelve perfect models for discipleship—when Judas betrayed Jesus, Peter denied knowing Jesus three times after Judas’ betrayal, and all of the disciples ran for their lives when Jesus was crucified. Still, Jesus called them. Not because they were ready but because He would make them ready along the way.
The disciples did not just leave behind their boats and nets. They left behind security, predictability, and control. They stepped into the unknown, something that would eventually cost them everything.
That’s why Bonhoeffer says: “The disciple is dragged out of his relative security into a life of absolute insecurity (that is, in truth, into the absolute security and safety of the fellowship of Jesus).”[ii]
At first glance, that sounds like a contradiction. How can absolute insecurity be secure? Remember, I was a security engineer before this preaching gig. This makes no sense. How can we lose everything and gain everything?
But ask anyone who has followed Jesus and they will tell you: The cost is real—but so is the gift.
You lose control, but you gain peace.
You lose certainty, but you gain faith.
You lose yourself, but you find your life.
And the thing is, if discipleship is an obligation, just a heavy burden thrust upon us, it would not be good news. But it is! This calling is not just a demand; it is a gift.
Bonhoeffer reminds us: “This situation is therefore not the consequence of our obedience, but the gift of him who commands obedience.”[iii]
Discipleship is not a solo journey. It is not a handful of heroic church folk going at it alone. Stanley Hauerwas reminds us, “Discipleship, moreover, is not a heroic endeavor of individuals, but rather a way of life of a community that finds its shared life a foretaste of God’s kingdom.”[iv]
As we step into discipleship, aka following Jesus, we step into a community. The church is not just a place where we gather for encouragement—it is the very connection by which we live out the call of Christ. The life of faith is sustained not by personal effort alone but by the shared life of a people who have been claimed by Christ.
By Sunday school teachers who taught us that Jesus loves us.
By bible study participants who wrestle with Jesus’ difficult words.
By prayer warriors who pray for us when we do not know we need a prayer.
Following Jesus is not about proving something to God. It is about receiving something from God. The call itself is grace.
When Jesus calls, we either stay or go. There’s no negotiating or half-measures.
The disciples left their nets and followed. What are we still clinging to?
Maybe it’s security—the need to have everything planned and figured out before you step forward.
Maybe it’s comfort—the fear of stepping into something difficult or unfamiliar.
Maybe it’s pride—the desire to keep control instead of surrendering.
Whatever it is, Jesus is standing before you today with the same invitation He gave to the first twelve, “Follow me.”
So, what will it be?
That is what we are wrestling with throughout the Lenten season.
Bonhoeffer reminds us that grace is not cheap—it is costly. Discipleship demands everything, but it offers even more in return. The way of Jesus is not comfortable, but it is the only path to real life.
Jesus is standing before you today with the same invitation He gave to those first disciples: “Follow me.”
And here’s the good news—this call is not just about loss, not just about sacrifice, not just about cost.
Yes, discipleship demands everything—but it offers even more in return. It is the call to life, real life, the kind of life that can’t be measured in security, comfort, or control, but in joy, purpose, and the presence of God.
It is a call to belong—to a community, to a story, to a Savior who goes before us.
So, what will it be? Will we stay in the boat, clinging to our nets, waiting for a more convenient time? Or will we step forward, trusting that the One who calls us is also the One who will sustain us?
Because, friends, the way of Jesus is not just the way of the cross—it is the way of resurrection.
And that is good news.
Amen.
[i] Bonhoeffer, Dietrich. The Cost of Discipleship. Touchstone 1995. Page 67
[ii] Ibid. Page 58
[iii] Ibid. Page 68.
[iv] Hauerwas, Stanley. Performing the Faith. Brazos Press 2004. Page 172.
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