The lectionary reading from January that has been circling in my head is the account of Jesus calling strangers to follow behind and become his disciples. The apparent alacrity with which these men seemingly leapt to their feet to follow Jesus, leaving their incomes and tax collecting or fishing careers with just the simple invitation: “Follow me”, seems implausible to me.

Have Mark and other gospel authors only given us a Reader’s-Digest-condensed-version of what happened? Was there was a little more dialogue about what they would be doing, a job description, any perks? Or was the presence and mana of Jesus so compelling and authentic that such discussion wasn’t needed?

I also wonder whether in today’s complex world we are able to respond so wholeheartedly and spontaneously. Few of us seem to be able to drop what we’re doing (parenting, volunteering, teaching, engineering, getting well, whatever) and leave our incomes to walk off behind Jesus. In this very different universe from first-century Palestine, how do I actually go about following Jesus and (given that Jesus is not around physically these days) how do I even know if I am following his Way?

Yet perhaps we’re not as far from being committed and responsive disciples as it seems at first glance.

In the past weeks I have felt really encouraged to notice a number of our friends and relatives deeply engaged in their weekday roles, and have recognised their work as part of their journey in following Christ.

Hannah works as a speech language therapist among young people who are profoundly disabled. She tells me how people with sensory or intellectual disabilities can communicate their ideas and preferences but often need those communicating with them to give more time and space to do so. Hannah spends hours each day working with young people to help them find ways to convey their thoughts, and also supports family members and others around them to communicate more effectively.

Her eyes light up as she explains to me her role, the communication boards and technology supports, and the progress that these young people with disabilities have made in communication when they are given time and attention. In Hannah’s skill, attention and knowledge around communicating, she takes up the invitation to “Follow me”.

A new friend in Christchurch, Fleur, does paid work part-time, but also puts lots of energy and time into supporting her three young children, making her home a restful respite and in welcoming new parents and children living nearby. I know, because this month we moved back to Christchurch, where we lived nine years ago, to start at a new school and neighbourhood for six months. On the hot nor’wester day in late January that school started, Fleur and a couple of other mothers arranged a “welcome back to school” morning tea for other parents. It was a great way for me to meet others and feel like I could connect to this new place. On her second day at her new school, our nine-year old Jalori was invited to come and play with Fleur’s daughter. It seems to me that Fleur is following Jesus whole-heartedly in the place where she lives.

It may not be as obvious or dramatic as the fishing nets left tangled on the beach, but I am convinced that there are millions of us who take up the invitation from Jesus to follow him. Like the early disciples we are enthusiastic, hopeful, faithful, faltering and distracted, too, at times — but we are following, nonetheless. 

Kaaren Mathias, with her family, is on a sabbatical-sort-of-break away from community mental health work in India, and will be staying in Christchurch until June 2018.

Tui Motu Magazine. Issue 224, March 2018: 32.