Gentle Note: Grace Doesn’t Bark Orders
A short essay on the difference between obedience and invitation
I have been seeing a lot of Substack Notes around the topic of obedience. How God demands it. No feet dragging. Just obey. It took everything in me not to jump into the comments and “gracefully” disagree. Instead, I took the dogs for a walk. Sometimes, grace looks like quieting my inner theologian and opting for a gentler path to walk.
One Note in particular used the passage from Matthew 14.
18 While walking by the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon (who is called Peter) and Andrew his brother, casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. 19 And he said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men.” 20 Immediately they left their nets and followed him.
Many interpret this passage through the lens of immediate obedience. It reminded me of something my sister-in-law said while raising her boys: “Right away, straight away, and in a cheerful way.” It’s cute when you're five. It’s heavier when we start applying it to God. But there’s a question we often skip over: Why? Why would these men drop their nets and leave behind a life they have always known?
Was Jesus’ follow-me a command or an invitation?
An invitation draws us in. It lights a flame within. It doesn’t override our will but awakens us. When we read between the lines, maybe there was something so profound about Jesus (his kindness, his presence, his knowing) that caused an immediate response. Maybe it wasn’t a command to be obeyed, but a presence they couldn’t ignore.
Obedience is simple. Follow the rules.
But to accept an invitation to follow an unknown path. That’s faith.
Walking the gentler path,
This. A thousand bells for this.
If Jesus wanted soldiers, he’d have stormed the Temple with a legion.
Instead, he radiated something so compelling it made fishermen forget their fish.
Obedience stifles. Invitation awakens.
One builds walls; the other opens doors.
Too many modern preachers still bark as if grace wears combat boots.
It doesn’t. It dances barefoot.
—Virgin Monk Boy
I love the stories when Jesus starts his little band of misfits. Like Shelley, I like to imagine what didn’t get written down.