Andrew was angry when he came home for dinner tonight. “I won’t follow him any more,” he said. “It’s too demanding. If you’re not for him, you’re against him. If your treasure is not the Kingdom, then you will lose your life. If you follow him, you will die with him. He wants to set the earth on fire. Some will decide for him, some will not.”
Well, Andrew has always been more cautious than I am. The first hint of a storm, and he doesn’t want to take the boat out. But, I have to admit, I left the dinner table, a bit upset myself, and headed down to the shore to quell my restless mood.
And there he was, alone by a fire, the waves lapping against the shore, the breeze soft, a sliver of the moon in the night sky. I sat down.
“Andrew wasn’t a happy camper today,” he said. That got my attention. “It’s no wonder,” I rejoined. He simply smiled. So I asked him, “How can Andrew and I keep following you when you insist on such a singular focus to life? With you, the Kingdom is an all or nothing proposition. I don’t think we will ever have the strength to be like you.”
“Ah, Peter,” he responded, “We are friends, companions together. Everything else follows from that.”
—Ted Munz, S.J., Chicago-Detroit Province Jesuits