Matthew 4:12-18
Thanks to Rob Bell, Mars Hill Bible Church, Grandville, MI, who introduced me to the First Century world of the rabbi in a message seven years ago, entitled, “In the Dust of the Rabbi,” and then in his book, Velvet Elvis.
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Come, follow me!” and they did; just like that.
Has that story ever struck you as odd?
Is this the way discipleship is supposed to happen? Jesus calls and away we go?
It hasn’t helped that too many movies portray Jesus as a dreamy-eyed mystic – white bathrobe, Miss America sash, beautiful hair, far-away voice: “Come follow me!”
The disciples look heavenward; light shines on their faces - ethereal music – they float off their boats and follow Jesus.
I don’t think so!
There’s a real story here.
About a Rabbi and His students – four fishermen from the Sea of Galilee.
Actually fishermen is a bit misleading – “fisher-teens” might be more accurate – late teens, early twenties at most.
Let’s get into our time machine and pay a visit to first century Palestine. Like Rod Taylor in the 1960 movie version of H.G. Wells’ The Time Machine – fasten your seat belt. Our next stop: the world in which Jesus lived.
The world of the rabbi.
I’ll move the lever – we can hear the whirling motors, we begin to spin, the clock ticks backward, 1950, 1900, 1500, 750, 325, and begins to slow, 150, 75 … and the year 30, when Jesus began His work.
Bright sun and hot winds.
Welcome to first century Palestine.
The world of the rabbi.
A rabbi is the most respected person in the Jewish community – the rabbi is the best of the best – Harvard, Stanford and Yale, Princeton, Duke and MIT – it’s a long and arduous road to become a rabbi.
A rabbi began his official work around the age 30, as Jesus did following His baptism.
But a rabbi’s education began at age five or six – to study the Torah!
What we call the Old Testament.
Genesis to the Italian book Malachi –
Every Jew lives with the text, morning to night, birth to death – a people of the book.
Memorizing it from beginning to end, discussing and debating it’s meaning – playing scripture games – someone recites a sentence from Isaiah, and others repeat what comes before and after.
The art of questions: a woman had seven husbands; whose wife will she be in the life to come? Is it lawful for a Jew to pay taxes to the Romans? What must I do to inherit eternal life?
And lots of parables – stories with a twist; images to tease heart and mind: the prodigal son; the pearl of great price; the vineyard.
It’s all about the text – Moses, the prophets, the Psalms - because the text is survival.
The text preserves and empowers the Jews in a hard world.
So began a child’s education.
How young should a child be to begin instruction in the Word of God?
One rabbi said: “Under the age of six, we do not receive a child as a pupil; from six upwards accept him and stuff him [with Torah] like an ox.”
Imagine the early morning hours in the synagogue of Nazareth – boys and girls fidgeting - scared and eager; the rabbi, wise and respected.
On the first day of class the rabbi would take honey and cover each student’s slate – a wonderful treat for every child.
Honey was a sign of God’s favor. There was nothing finer, nothing sweeter, nothing more full of pleasure than honey.
The rabbi would rub honey all over the slate. And then he would say, “Now class, lick the honey off the slate and off your fingers.”
As the students did this, the rabbi would say, “May the words of God be sweet to your taste, sweeter than honey to your mouth” (Psalm 119:103). May the words of God be the most pleasurable, the most enjoyable thing you could even comprehend.
First level: Bet Sefer – “House of the Book.”
By the time children finish Bet Sefer, around age 10, they know the Pentateuch by heart – the whole thing: Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers, Deuteronomy.
Memorized.
Is this kind of memorizing possible today?
Watch a 14-year old plugged into her iPod – thousands of lyrics memorized.
Children who demonstrated ability with the text would be invited to the next level – Bet Talmud – “House of Learning.”
By age 13 or 14, the top students had the entire Bible memorized.
Think of Mary’s Magnificat – her song to the LORD is all Scripture – remember, Mary was about 14 when Gabriel paid her a visit – Mary, like all Hebrew children, knew the text well.
When Jesus’ parents found Him in the temple, how old was He? He was 12.
And what was He doing?
He was sitting among the teachers, listening to them, asking them questions – they were amazed at his understanding and His answers.
Around the age 14 or 15, the best of the best continued their studies. The rest are sent home to learn the family trade and begin their own families.
The best of the best ultimately apply to a well-known rabbi to become one of the rabbi’s talmadim – one of his disciples.
The goal of a disciple was more than just learning – the goal was to be just like the rabbi.
Guys, remember buying a pipe in college because your favorite professor smoked a pipe? How about that tweed jacket with the elbow patches?
Ladies, you did you hair the way she wore her hair and held a pencil to your lips as she did while lecturing.
More than learning, it was all about living.
When a student applied to a rabbi, he was asking to take the rabbi’s yoke upon him.
Remember when Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you”?
The “yoke” was the rabbi’s teaching – the rabbi’s way of life.
If the rabbi decided that a student had what it takes, he would say to the student: “Come, follow me!”
The equivalent of the “big envelope” in the mail from the university of your choice.
Rejection notices come in small envelopes: “Thanks for applying. Your strengths and abilities are better suited for another school. Good Luck.” Which simply means: “Get outta here and don’t bother us again!”
Acceptance comes in a large envelope.
“Welcome! We’re glad to have you as a student! Enclosed, please find housing applications, and financial aid forms.”
The big envelope.
“Come, and follow me!”
Let’s return to the Sea of Galilee.
Why were James and John, Peter and Andrew fishing?
They got the small envelope.
They didn’t make the cut.
The dream was over.
Jewish boys dreamed of being a rabbi … and girls did, too. But girls couldn’t, which makes the story of Mary and Martha so fascinating – when Jesus visited their home, where does Mary sit?
“At His feet” says the text.
Code language for being a student.
Martha’s consternation over Mary’s behavior is embarrassment – Mary’s audacity, behaving as if she were a rabbinical student, is improper and unbecoming for a woman.
Perhaps Martha was a wee bit envious.
Jesus affirmed Mary’s status that day – she got the big envelope!
Every family wanted their sons to be rabbis.
Like the Irish families of old Boston – to have a priest in the family, or a nun – a mark of distinction, a source of pride and gratitude.
“Yes, my son is priest. My daughter’s a nun.”
Every culture has “status” positions – a physician at the Mayo Clinic; an attorney with a Washington law firm – a poet or a painter (well, scratch those last two).
In Palestine, first century, “My son is a rabbi!”
James and Andrew, John and Peter were fishing because they weren’t the best of the best.
But on a memorable day, a rabbi walked the shore of the sea – his reputation already established – a rabbi of distinction and unusual insight.
“You have heard it said, but I say unto you.” This rabbi teaches with an uncommon authority.
Of course they knew Him. Everyone knew the rabbis.
Rabbi Jesus says, “Come, follow me.”
They didn’t even have to apply!
He choose them!
The big envelope.
A second chance for them.
Remember sixth grade recess?
When the teacher would call on two of the best softball players to be captains, and then have them choose their teams.
I hated it.
I wasn’t much of an athlete – I couldn’t hit a ball if you’d paid me.
So, the teams are chosen – the best first, the rest, and finally, the leftovers only because the teacher made it so.
Without the teacher’s assignment, the least of the least would have been cleaning erasers.
“Come, follow me.”
Like Tiger Woods calling you up tonight to play golf with him next week at Pebble Beach.
Or George Clooney inviting you to his home in Italy, all expenses paid.
“Yes, of course, we’ll leave our nets, we’ll leave home, to follow a rabbi.”
And what about their Dad the next day?
At the Coffee Company – “Ah, you notice my boys aren’t here with me today? Well, I tell you, the rabbi Jesus invited them to follow Him.” And all the men give Dad a high-five and hoist their cups in salute.
And Mom at the bowling alley, “You’ll never believe what happened yesterday; my boys were invited by Rabbi Jesus to take up His yoke. We’ll miss them, of course, but we’re so proud. A dream come true.”
So began a three-year journey for Andrew and James, John and Peter – students of Rabbi Jesus – following Him closely, so closely that at the end of the day, they’re literally covered in the dust of the rabbi – wanting to be just like Him.
That’s why Peter got out of the boat and walked on water – if his rabbi could do it, he could do it, too.
And Peter did. Peter walked on water.
And when Peter grew frightened and began to sink into the angry sea, Jesus said, ”You of little of faith. Why did you doubt?”
Doubt?
Did Peter doubt Jesus?
Peter doubted himself.
“I can’t do this. I’m not capable!”
Self-doubt disturbs Jesus more than anything else.
Jesus knows what we’re capable of doing – that’s why He calls us –
“Come, follow me!”
“Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me.”
Our rabbi believes in us.
He knows we can be just like Him.” Amen!
