Luke 5.1 to 11: A New
The readings and the message today are for those who are tired. It is not something we like to talk about but fatigue comes to us all. It is something you have to ride out. If we use the New Testament reading as a guide, we can be sure that on the other side of fatigue is surprise.
The account begins with something that really does not bear much explanation: work. A group of fishermen had just touched land after a long and fruitless night. Tired. Like all good professionals they did not drop everything and crawl off to bed. There were nets to be cleaned, ropes to be coiled, tackle to be stored. In the midst of these chores they were interrupted by Jesus. A large crowd wanted to hear him but they gave him no room to stand. Could he use one of their boats? Sure.
We can assume Jesus was worth hearing. Luke recorded earlier that all spoke well of him and marveled at the gracious words that came out of his mouth. This time would have been no different. I imagine – and it is only my imagination – that as Jesus spoke the fatigue would have dropped from those fishermen like an unwanted coat and they too would have been inspired by what the Master said.
When the teaching was over Jesus dealt the fishermen their first surprise: put out into the deep water and let out your nets for a catch. Fishing for them, then, was different than fishing for us, now. They fished at night, casting their nets where the deep water rose to meet the reefs and shallows, where there was food for the fish. In the morning the fish left the shallow water and dove deep into the deepest part of the lake, far from the heat of the day and the nets and lines of the fishermen. Everyone knew that, except this carpenter turned speaker. Simon expressed his skepticism but in the end did as Jesus asked. The result was the catch of a life-time. The nets were so full they were nearly breaking. Andrew, James, John – come out here and give us a hand! And so they hauled the fish on board, filling the boats until they sat dangerously low in the water.
The second surprise came from Simon. This experience touched him more than any other to date. It broke through all the assumptions, conclusions and expectations he had built up along the way and revealed that this was a God moment and this was God standing in his boat. As with all God moments two things are revealed. The first is the awesome glory of God. By contrast the second is the moral shabbiness of men and women. As Martin Luther said, “We are nothing but feces being squeezed out of the anus of the world” or (more politely) “we are nothing but snow covered dung”. Simon is more circumspect but he meant the same thing, to which Jesus replied, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will be catching men”.
The third surprise also came from Simon and the other fishermen. Having worked so hard to get the fish to shore they left everything, fish, nets and boats, and followed Jesus. The question of whether the fish was sold, thrown back, given away or left to rot is left unasked and unanswered. They had more important things on their minds now.
It would be wrong to understand this account as a template for worldly success: from no fish to countless fish, from frustration and fatigue to inspiration. Just follow Jesus instructions and you will have a Rolex, Lexus and vacation property in the Caribbean. That is the essence of the “name it and claim it” doctrine and it sells like hotcakes. Nobody can deny that Jesus promised to give us life in unending abundance. Luke writes it this way: Give and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use it will be measured to you”. It is all true. But before you enter into that abundance you have to die. All good Lutherans have had it drummed into them that they died on the day of their baptism and every day thereafter is a confirmation of that death. The lives they leave, like the boats, fish and nets the fishermen left, become irrelevant as they become responsive to Christ alone.
It is more Biblically correct to say that Christ only makes it harder to live in this world. Early on Jesus told the crowds, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his father and mother, his wife and children his brothers and sisters – yes, even his own life – he cannot be my disciple. Anyone who does not carry his cross and follow me cannot be my disciple”. Simon may have left his boats, but the implications of his actions ran deep. He also had to give up on the idea that salvation was possible without the cross. He had to live the words of the resurrected Christ: when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted, but when you are old you will stretch out your hands and someone else will dress you and lead you to where you do not want to go. Paul has a similar story. When God sent Ananias to restore his eyesight, he also said “This man is my chosen instrument to carry my name before the gentiles and their kings and before the people of
I wish we could say that spiritual heroism is not required of all. But that is not true. Christ said to all believers, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself, take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me and for the gospel will save it.”
I wish we could say that we get points for being holy or self sacrificing, but that also would not be true. Your sacrifice is between you and God. As Jesus says in Mark 16, “when you fast put oil on your head and wash our face so that it will NOT be obvious to men that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you”.
That is scary stuff. It explains why the Gospel has never been very popular, especially in a culture that worships self, youth, beauty and success. We preach death to all that. The gospel and the Church are the worst enemies society can have. Given that, it is amazing we are as successful as we are. Confirmed hedonists and humanists are wise to avoid us.
What if, however, all the stuff the world values, will eventually go up in smoke anyway? What if God really does have a refining fire that will consume everything that competes with Him and refines everything that identifies with Him? What if all we fuss over and celebrate in this world is nothing more than a sideshow and will be upstaged by the returning Christ and the New Jerusalem, where all we will have will be an abiding, intimate relationship with God? Even if we hold those things to be true and faithfully wait for them to unfold I believe we would still be surprised.
I think God must enjoy surprising us – like the time he came to the world in the form of a baby boy, or the time he changed water into wine, or the time when he walked out of the sealed tomb or the time when he had a theological discussion with the 2 disciples on the road to Emmaus. He surprises us by taking ordinary things, like babies, or water, or a conversation, or a marriage, or a job and making them extraordinary. He invents a new normal, or, more accurately, he returns us to the normal he intended in the first place.
Before the protestant reformation Thomas a Kempis wrote his devotional book “The Imitation of Christ” in which he invites his readers to imitate Christ in their daily and religious lives. In 1896 Charles Sheldon wrote his classic novel, IN HIS STEPS. It is a story about a pastor who asked his congregation to stop and ask “What would Jesus do” in the situations that presented themselves over the course of the next year. The book follows the lives of 7 people as they work out the practical implications of Christian living. The WWJD campaign of the 1990’s asked the same question. I hope someone else will pick up on that theme again and again and again. It is a good one.
That is the way God is. Surprising.
