What Jesus Really Meant When He Said “Follow Me”
The surprising first-century meaning of Jesus' two-word invitation
Welcome to today’s article.
After looking at Matthew yesterday and the implications of following Jesus, today we turn to what it really means to follow him.
I am a follower of a mediocre football team in the second tier of English football.
For more than thirty years, I have followed them, and during that time, they have been masterful underachievers. Yet, I remain a paid-up member. I watch the matches, buy the merchandise, and consume far more club content than any sensible person probably should.
Why?
Perhaps it is because it feels good to belong. It feels good to be part of something bigger than the routines and responsibilities of everyday life.
Most of us follow something.
A football club. A political movement. A favourite author. A social cause. A particular way of seeing the world.
If my loyalty to a mediocre football team seems questionable, it is nothing compared to the commitment required to follow Jesus.
— • —
People followed Jesus seemingly without asking many questions. After all, consider the way he recruited his first disciples.
Jesus is walking beside the Sea of Galilee when he sees two brothers, Peter and Andrew, casting their nets into the water. They are fishermen, working in a trade that probably supported their families for generations. This is their livelihood, their routine, and the centre of their daily lives.
Jesus looks at them and says two words.
“Follow me.” (Matthew 4:19)
And they leave.
Yesterday, we explored the calling of Matthew and how following Jesus involved leaving behind an old identity. Peter and Andrew respond in a remarkably similar way. They abandon their nets almost immediately.
Just two words, and these men walk away from the security of everything they have ever known.
Walking away from everything they knew meant a complete change of identity. In Matthew's case, that may seem more obvious because he was a tax collector. Yet Peter, Andrew, James and John were fishermen, and fishing was all they had ever known.
The big question is, why would anyone leave their job because a travelling teacher asked them to come along?
To understand why this moment made sense to those first disciples, we need to understand what the phrase “follow me” meant in the world Jesus inhabited.
— • —
In the Jewish world of the first century, the relationship between a rabbi and his disciples sat at the heart of religious learning.
Children were taught the Torah from a young age and learned the foundational stories of Israel. Many memorised large sections of scripture. The most promising students sometimes continued their studies under a rabbi, learning how to interpret and apply God’s law to everyday life.
But becoming a disciple was not automatic.
Normally, the student approached the rabbi and requested permission to follow him. The rabbi might test the student’s knowledge, ask questions about scripture, and decide whether the applicant showed enough promise to continue. Many did not make the cut, so they returned home and took up the family trade.
Those who were accepted entered a demanding apprenticeship.
The goal was not simply to learn information. The goal was to become like the rabbi.
This idea was captured in a famous Jewish blessing:
“May you be covered in the dust of your rabbi.”
The image behind the phrase is vivid. A disciple walks so closely behind the teacher on dusty roads that the dust kicked up by the rabbi’s sandals settles on the disciple’s clothes.
To follow a rabbi meant living close enough to observe everything. How he interpreted scripture. How he prayed. How he treated difficult people. How he responded to everyday situations.
Discipleship was as much about imitation as it was about instruction.
— • —
Ancient Jewish traditions reveal just how seriously students took this calling.
Some stories describe disciples following their rabbis almost everywhere, carefully observing how they behaved in every situation. The aim was not merely to understand the rabbi’s teaching but to absorb the pattern of his life.
One well-known account tells of a student hiding beneath his rabbi’s bed in order to observe everything the teacher did. When discovered, he defended himself by explaining that he was simply trying to learn.
To modern ears, the story sounds slightly absurd. Yet it reveals something important about how discipleship was understood.
The rabbi’s life was the lesson.
Every action mattered because the disciple’s goal was to become like the teacher.
