When God Starts in the Margins
Let me begin with a question: If you were going to launch a movement to transform and redeem the world, where would you start?
It is natural to think in terms of power, visibility, and influence. Our minds go to capitals, capitals of religion (Jerusalem), of politics (Rome), of culture. We would choose platforms that amplify and positions that impress.
But Jesus doesn’t start in Jerusalem. He starts in Galilee; a rural, working-class, ethnically mixed region with a bad religious reputation and no political pull. This is not the expected launching point for a messianic movement.
But therein lies the beauty. The place where Jesus begins is itself a message: God does not wait for ideal conditions to act. He acts in obscurity, among the ordinary.
This message unfolds in three movements:
- The Light Breaks into Darkness (Matt. 4:12–17; Mark 1:14–15)
- The Call to Follow (Matt. 4:18–22; Mark 1:16–20)
- The Commission to Catch (Luke 5:1–11)
These are not isolated vignettes. They form a single theological arc: Jesus enters the broken world, calls ordinary people to follow Him, and then gives them kingdom work to do. This is the journey from darkness to discipleship.
The Light Breaks Into Darkness
Let’s begin by considering the setting. In Matthew’s gospel we read:
“When Jesus heard that John had been taken into custody, he withdrew to Galilee.” (Matt. 4:12).
Likewise Mark’s gospel records:
“Now after John was arrested, Jesus came into Galilee…” (Mark 1:14)
According to John’s Gospel, by this time Jesus has already performed His second sign at Cana (John 4:46–54), and He’s already been rejected in His hometown of Nazareth (Luke 4:16–30). Luke tells us that after reading from Isaiah and proclaiming its fulfillment, Jesus was almost thrown off a cliff by the people of His own village.
So what happens next is not the beginning of Jesus’ ministry in the absolute sense, but a new turning point. He relocates. And the move is both theological and strategic.
Jesus doesn’t storm the palace or confront the powers that arrested John. He doesn’t take His message to the religious epicenter. He heads north to the periphery. He leaves Nazareth and relocates to Capernaum, a bustling fishing village on the Sea of Galilee. Capernaum sits on the Via Maris, a major Roman road connecting Damascus to the Mediterranean coast.
This could be seen as a deliberate move if you are considering missional accessibility. Galilee is filled with Gentiles, foreigners, Roman soldiers, and outsiders. Jesus is planting Himself in a location saturated with Gentile influence, cultural tension, and religious skepticism. At the same time, Matthew notes that this was also prophetic fulfillment:
“Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the way of the sea, beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles—the people dwelling in darkness have seen a great light…” (Matt. 4:14–16).
Here Matthew connects Jesus’ move to Capernaum with Isaiah 9. Historically, this region was devastated during the Assyrian invasions. The northern tribes were among the first to fall and were heavily assimilated.
This land had become synonymous with failure, exile, and lost hope. But Isaiah foretold that a great light would shine there again.
Matthew is saying that Jesus is that light. This light shines not because the people are seeking. In fact, it shines on those who are sitting in darkness (not active, not hopeful, just existing). The Greek word for “dawned” (aneteilen) suggests a bursting forth, an uninvited, sovereign illumination.
This is a reminder that God doesn’t wait for revival to begin working. He begins in the shadows. His light enters not where people are alert and prepared, but where they are stagnant and stuck. Wherever there is resignation, despair, or silence precisely where Jesus steps in.
And what is the message Jesus brings? We’ve covered this in previous lessons, but it is worth repeating:
Matthew summarizes it like this: “From that time Jesus began to preach, saying, ‘Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand.'” (Matt. 4:17)
Likewise, Mark gives this summary: “The time is fulfilled, and the kingdom of God is at hand; repent and believe the gospel.” (Mark 1:15)
Again, it is worth recapping some of this because it will be important for understanding the rest of this lesson:
- “The time is fulfilled” is not just chronological time (chronos), but kairos a divine, strategic moment.
- “The kingdom is at hand” refers to the reign of God on earth that has come close enough to touch.
- “Repent” is the Greek word Metanoia, meaning a total change in direction, rooted in surrender.
- “Believe the gospel” means to trust that what God is doing in Jesus is good news, for the world and for you. Jesus isn’t just continuing John’s message. He is fulfilling it while also fulfilling with every Old Testament covenant promise.
The Call To Follow
Matthew and Mark begin their accounts in Galilee with Jesus walking by the sea:
“As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee…” (Matt. 4:18)
“Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee…” (Mark 1:16)
Here, Jesus sees two sets of brothers; Peter and Andrew, and James and John, all at work in their fishing trade. One pair is casting nets; the other is mending them. These are not theologians or synagogue interns. They are common laborers.
For Peter and Andrew, this is not their first encounter with Jesus. According to John 1:35–42, Andrew had already met Jesus through John the Baptist and had brought his brother Simon (Peter) to Him. They had spent time with Jesus in the early days, even seen miracles like the one in Cana (John 2), but had returned to fishing. What happens here is not their introduction to Jesus, it’s their summons to full-time, life-redefining discipleship.
For James and John, however, this may well be their first personal call. There is no prior mention of them in the Gospel accounts before this moment. We cannot be certain if they had seen or heard Jesus before, but what’s clear is that Jesus issues the same radical call to them. Whether it was a first encounter or not, it became the decisive one.
Jesus call them, not at the synagogue but to their place of business. He interrupts their routine with a call that will redefine everything.
“Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” (Matt. 4:19; Mark 1:17)
Let’s break this down:
He tells them to “follow me.” Not “believe in me” or “agree with me,” but “walk behind me.” This is relational before it is instructional. Jesus doesn’t issue a doctrinal quiz or a vision statement. He calls them to movement, to join Him on the way. The Greek verb used here, “akolouthei,” conveys the image of a disciple physically walking behind a rabbi. It means stepping where He steps, going where He leads. Discipleship, then, begins not with understanding but with nearness.
He says “I will make you.” The transformation is Jesus’ work, not theirs. He doesn’t call them because they are ready or qualified. He doesn’t begin with their credentials. Instead, He commits Himself to the task of shaping them. The phrase “I will make you” implies a process. He doesn’t demand immediate mastery. He invites them into formation where divine grace not only calls but also crafts. The confidence is not in the disciple’s ability but in the Master’s commitment.
And the end result? Jesus will craft (or disciple) them into “fishers of men.” This metaphor is powerful because it’s so familiar. Jesus doesn’t reach for abstract theology. He meets them in the framework of their everyday world. Fishing is what they know: the rhythms of casting, waiting, hauling, cleaning. And Jesus says, “I’m not erasing your identity, I’m redirecting it.” What they did for a living, they’ll now do for the kingdom.
And how do they respond?
“Immediately they left their nets and followed him.” (Matt. 4:20)
“They left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired men and followed him.” (Mark 1:20)
No questions. No delay. No negotiations.
They leave their nets, which represent theri security, income, familiarity. James and John leave their father, which includes their family expectations, and their generational business. They drop everything, because Jesus doesn’t offer a part-time discipleship. He calls for everything.
Jesus doesn’t add Himself to their lives. He becomes the defining center of their new lives. And they follow, not because they understand fully, but because they trust Him.
The Commission to Catch
Now so far we have been reading from Matthew and Mark’s accounts, but Luke gives us a more intimate, behind-the-scenes perspective of the call. Luke writes:
“On one occasion, while the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he was standing by the lake of Gennesaret.” (Luke 5:1)
Jesus has drawn a crowd, which is not unexpected. As we have seen, Jesus was already something of a local celebrity. The desire to hear and see Jesus is pushed to the edge of the shoreline. And here’s where the divine strategy unfolds.
Peter, Andrew, James, and John are present again. They are not in the crowd. They are on the sidelines, tending to failure. After an exhausting night of catching nothing, they are washing their nets, an act that signals the day is done. They are ready to go home.
But Jesus steps directly into Peter’s boat, seemingly uninvited. He transforms an ordinary workplace into a holy platform. Then, after teaching, Jesus turns to Peter with a surprising instruction:
“Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4)
This isn’t just a fishing tip. It’s a test. Peter responds:
“Master, we toiled all night and took nothing.” (Luke 5:5)
This is not just frustration. It is also professional expertise. Peter is not a novice. He is a seasoned fisherman. He was likely raised fishing on these waters. By all accounts, Peter should have known far more about fishing than Jesus, who was, after all, a carpenter by trade. In Peter’s world, fishing at night in the shallows is standard practice. Daytime, especially in deeper waters, is the least likely time to catch anything. Jesus’ instructions fly in the face of everything Peter knows from years of lived experience. This is the wrong time, the wrong method, and the wrong strategy. Everything in Peter’s knowledge says this will not work. And yet, he obeys, not because it makes sense, but because it’s Jesus who speaks.
Peter answers:
“But at your word I will let down the nets.” (Luke 5:5)
“But at your word” is a phrase we should all adopt. Peter isn’t convinced by evidence, he’s compelled by the authority of Jesus’ voice. Faith is rarely convenient, and it often looks foolish. But it is always anchored in who speaks, not in how we feel. Peter obeys, not because the conditions make sense, but because Christ is worth trusting.
And what is the result?
“They enclosed a large number of fish, and their nets were breaking.” (Luke 5:6
“They filled both boats, so that they began to sink.” (Luke 5:7)
This is a seemingly impossible catch. The nets can’t hold it. The boats can’t carry it. This is far more than successful fishing, it is supernatural provision.
And Peter reacts by falling at Jesus’ knees:
“Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” (Luke 5:8)
This isn’t false humility. It’s holy clarity. Peter is overwhelmed not just by the miracle but by the presence of the One who performed it. He realizes in that moment that he is not simply standing in the boat with a powerful teacher, he is kneeling before the Holy One. And in that clarity, Peter doesn’t celebrate, he confesses.
This parallels the prophet Isaiah in Isaiah 6. It is the holiness of God exposing the unworthiness of man. Just as Isaiah cried, “Woe is me, for I am undone” (Isaiah 6:5), Peter’s cry, “Depart from me” (Luke 5:8) is not a dismissal of Jesus, but a recognition of his own unworthiness to be near Him.
And yet, it is precisely this moment, when Peter is most aware of his sin, that Jesus chooses to commission him. The fear that should have driven him away becomes the soil where calling takes root.
Jesus says to Peter:
“Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men.” (Luke 5:10)
Jesus doesn’t shame Peter. He doesn’t even address his confession. He commissions him.
His phrase “From now on” marks a turning point. Peter’s life isn’t just changed; it’s redirected. He is no longer merely a follower. He is now a gatherer of people into the kingdom.
And the verb used “catching” means to catch alive. This isn’t about trapping. It’s about rescuing. Evangelism, in Luke’s vision, is about offering new life.
We then read:
“And when they had brought their boats to land, they left everything and followed him.” (Luke 5:11)
The miracle doesn’t make them rich, it makes them ready. They leave it all. Not because the fish weren’t valuable, but because Jesus was far more valuable. They walked away from the greatest catch of their careers because they had just seen the difference between success and significance.
In this sense, Luke’s account shows us the second half of the call story. First, Jesus calls them to Himself. Now, He sends them out with Him. They are not just saved, they are sent. This is the movement of the Gospel: from conversion to co-mission. From seeing who Jesus is, to participating in what He does.
The Pattern of Discipleship
This is the pattern of discipleship we’ve seen unfold: first, light breaks into darkness. Then, a call comes, not to the learned or elite, but to ordinary people like fishermen. And finally, the commission sends them into a mission that far exceeds their qualifications but not God’s power.
Here’s the truth we should take from this account. Jesus still walks the shorelines of ordinary lives. He still calls. He still makes disciples out of doubters, laborers, and sinners. You don’t have to be impressive. You don’t have to be ready. You just have to say yes. The light has already dawned. The call is already clear. Drop your nets. Follow Him.
Works Consulted:
- France, R. T. 2002. The Gospel of Mark. Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 34. Dallas: Word Books.
- Davies, W. D., and Dale C. Allison Jr. 1988–1997. A Critical and Exegetical Commentary on the Gospel According to Saint Matthew. 3 vols. Word Biblical Commentary, Vols. 1–3. Dallas: Word Books.
- Evans, Craig A. 1990. Luke. Word Biblical Commentary, Vol. 35A–35B. Dallas: Word Books.