When I was little, some insensitive person somewhere came up with the cruel notion that the best way to pick teams was to choose two captains who would, in front of the entire class, select their teammates, one at a time. Everyone crowded around, desperate to be the first one picked. They were the special ones. For those unathletic or poor spellers who predictably were called last, can you imagine? If you can, I am so sorry. No doubt, had there been this type of selection for a trigonometry or geography contest, I would have had, for good reason, a taste of this putrid medicine.
I just happened to do well in the athletic/spelling areas, and for that reason (or the fact that I probably would have had a dramatic meltdown which no one wanted to watch), I was chosen towards the top. I cringe when I think of how those called last must have felt. Was I oblivious? Embarrassing to admit, but I certainly don’t remember ever demanding a kinder means of team selection be used. I apologize. (That being said, if you read my book, you know that I have had my share of not being good enough.)
I wonder if any of Jesus’ disciples ever felt like that.
John MacArthur, a respected theologian, writes about the disciples in his book Twelve Ordinary Men. Of the dozen apostles, I find myself drawn to Andrew, Simon Peter’s older brother, who even though the first of the twelve to be called into Jesus’ inner circle, the one who introduced his sibling to this man from Galilee, then had to sit back and watch as Little Bro got most of the attention.
Andrew gets little Bible time. Peter, on the other hand, fills pages and even two letters and totally overshadows his brother as one who spent quality time with the Messiah. Never do we read that Andrew was jealous. Whereas Peter addressed multitudes when he spoke, Andrew was more of a one-on-one type of guy. Apart from where the twelve are listed in the New Testament, Andrew’s name appears only nine times, most of those with little fanfare.
Still, Andrew brought individuals to Christ. He brought the young boy with the five barley loaves and two fish, recognizing a potential miracle for feeding the thousands, when the other followers remained overwhelmed with the problem. Nothing in scripture indicates that Andrew bragged about his action and derided the others for missing the obvious.
When some Greeks (Gentiles) asked Philip if he would introduce them to Jesus, Philip, for some reason, came to Andrew with the request, a request Andrew was pleased to fill. If Andrew ever addressed a crowd, we are not told so, but I have to wonder if the majority of Christians aren’t a lot more like Andrew than Peter.
We see a problem and respond. If someone needs a favor, we are there. We take cookies to our new neighbor or soup to a sick friend, drive an elderly person to a doctor’s appointment, encourage those who, unlike us, evangelize large crowds and always are prepared to share the good news of Jesus Christ. We don’t wait for someone to bless us; we just help…with no public accolades (sometimes, not even private ones).
Andrew is proof that, although the limelight has its place, many times—most times?– it’s the little things that count. What little thing can you do today to make a difference?