I’ve always felt rather sorry for Andrew. And as we don’t know much about him, let’s just take a moment to find out what this reading tells us of him.

We know that Andrew is a disciple of John the Baptist:

the next day, John was standing with two of his disciples … one of the two who heard John speak was Andrew

We know that Andrew responded to what John the Baptist said, to what his teacher taught him, for when John said

Behold, the Lamb of God

we read that the two disciples (including Andrew) followed Jesus.

We know that Andrew recognizes Jesus, the Lamb of God, to be the Anointed One, for he says to his brother Simon

We have found the Messiah

We know that Andrew somehow understands, that at some level, the Lamb of God is going to bring a new teaching, because in reply to Jesus question

What are you looking for?

 they call him

Rabbi, which means teacher.

We know that Andrew is deeply curious about Jesus. Andrew and the second disciple ask

Where are you staying

 and Jesus replies

Come and See

And that’s what they do. They went, and they stayed and they remained with him for the rest of that day.

We know that Andrew doesn’t keep this new teacher, this new relationship to himself. Before going with Jesus, he goes and finds his brother Simon and he brought Simon to Jesus. And we know from that moment Andrew lived in the shadow of his brother.

Andrew brought Simon to Jesus – and what happens …

Jesus turns to Andrew, and praises him saying “Well done, thou good and faithful servant”?

Jesus turns to the crowd and pays tribute to Andrew: “Now that’s what I call a disciple! Go and do thou likewise!”?

No! Jesus turns to Andrew’s brother! Jesus ignores Andrew! Jesus has no words to say to Andrew. No thanks, no praise, no welcome, no comment at all. Jesus instead turns to Simon and heaps upon him all the welcome and praise that we (had we been Andrew) might have hoped for!

You are Simon, son of John

Yes … and I’m Andrew … the other son of John

You are to be called Peter

What about me … what am I to be called? … what’s my role in all this … what d’you mean … after all, I brought him here … if it wasn’t for me, you’d be nothing

For those of us who appreciate 1970s television humour, there might have been a touch of the Eric Morecambe’s in Andrew’s response to Simon’s welcome.

That’s why I’ve always felt rather sorry for Andrew, living in the shadow of his brother all his life. And more than that, living with the knowledge that he brought this upon himself.

If only he hadn’t introduced Simon to Jesus.

But then I read this:

This was the greatness of Andrew. He was the man who was always introducing others to Jesus.

And I realised I was looking at Andrew and assuming Andrew was like me. I realised I wasn’t allowing Andrew to be like Andrew! I was assuming that Andrew would act the way I would act; would respond the way I would respond; would feel the way I would feel.

You might find this next revelation a bit of a shock, a bit surprising, but I quite like being the one up the front, doing the business; I quite like dressing up in fancy clothes and strutting my stuff; I quite like being the centre of attention.

But the greatness of Andrew was found in not being the one up the front; in not dressing up in fancy clothes and strutting his stuff; in not being the centre of attention. After all, pretty much every time we hear of Andrew, he is bringing someone else to Jesus. Granted, we learn very little about Andrew from the New Testament. We know that he was a fisherman from Bethsaida. We know that he was one of the first to be called of the twelve apostles. We know that he had a brother called Simon.

And that’s about it, really – except …

•         in chapter 1 of John’s gospel he brings Simon to Jesus

•         in chapter 6 John’s gospel, it’s Andrew who has made contact with the young lad who has the five loaves and two fish, from which five thousand men (not counting the women and children) were fed.

•         and in chapter 12 of John’s gospel, once again it’s Andrew who (with Philip) is bringing to Jesus enquiring Greeks who are in Jerusalem for the Passover festival.

This was the greatness of Andrew. He was the man who was always introducing others to Jesus.

And he’d introduce anyone to Jesus. He brought his brother. He brought a child. He brought the Greeks. He doesn’t seem to have been bound by the conventions of the day. He seems to have caught the gospel message, that everyone is welcome to come to Christ, that Jesus of Nazareth calls us all to his loving arms

… whether we’re the right colour and creed – or not

… whether we’re the brother or sister of someone on the inside of the circle – or not

… whether we are of the ‘right’ age – or not

… whether we belong to the ‘right’ group – or not.

Andrew seems to have grasped the essence of the simplicity of Jesus of Nazareth: that we are all worthy of being loved by God.

So I’ve re-assessed by understanding Andrew. I don’t feel so sorry for him now. Actually, I rather envy him: his ability to relate to his brother, to children, to foreigners; his infectious enthusiasm for the gospel; his desire and his ability to bring people to Jesus.

Well, it puts a lot of this church-y stuff into perspective. And it raises questions for those of us who grab the limelight, who sit centre stage. I’m beginning to see that Andrew isn’t like me, but can I get to the point where I’m like Andrew?