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I suppose I've always read these passages of the first disciples following, believing they knew exactly what the call was about - of course, they were crossing the line of faith in Jesus, the Messiah and committing to follow him with the rest of their lives.

Maybe not.

What if they were a band of self-serving young bucks who were all too happy to leave the smell and scales of fishing for a little adventure? What if these guys - likely rejects from other rabbis - had a sense of mere value at being chosen by a rabbi, any rabbi? What if they had no idea who Jesus was? What if these scenes of followership are snapshots of selfishness, rather than selfless denial of a life they loved to follow Jesus?

What's my motivation for following? If I'm honest my past is sprinkled with a lot of selfish reasons for following. Often, I've just wanted to matter. I've wanted to have some value. Too often I've "followed" because I needed others to approve of me. Sometimes I'm sure I've "followed" with my eyes closed, on auto pilot, going through the motions of what I thought was followership.

I see the disciples change their motivation much later in the narratives... when they see Jesus' power; when they reckon with their own commitment to the kingdom of God; when they stare the threat of death and loneliness in the face.

Jesus makes the difference. He becomes the motivation.

I want that motivation. Again. Today.