Sermon 17th February 2013

Today, our Vicar, Cameron Barker, preaches based on the reading from Luke 5 verses 1-11 and 13. 

I’ll never forget that day. Well, you don’t, do you: the day that all the foundations of your life were rearranged into a whole new shape really does stick in the memory. Or it did for me, anyway. And if I then start to think of where it went from there, in those next three, speech-defying, years ... Well, to think that I thought I even had a clue, sitting there in that boat ...

No this isn’t your normal kind of a sermon! The next 10 minutes or so are more like a personal reflection on today’s story from Luke 5. Of course there is good reason for preaching it this way, which we will get into later; but for now you may want to sit back, close your eyes, even, and just go with it as best you can ...

So there I was: sat in my boat on that hot, sunny morning. Simon by name, extravagant by nature: or I was back then anyway. Actually I’d got as far as sorting the nets out by the time that Jesus turned up on the shore. Bet he’d had a good night’s sleep. Mind you, I’d rather have been up fishing all night than have that many people pushing and shoving round me every time I stepped outside my front door. Still, no surprise was it: everyone knew exactly what he could do. I hadn’t just heard it; I’d seen it for myself. Into the house he’d come; got the monster-in-law on her feet and back into the kitchen, right as rain; just by commanding the fever to leave her: amazing; or what?!

I’d seen him around often enough since then. It was hard to miss that sort of circus even in a bustling place like Capernaum. He did come and go, but this seemed to be his base now; you knew soon enough when he was back too. So, I saw, and I heard him: Jesus often spoke to those crowds that never gave him a moment’s peace. It wasn’t just all the miracles that he performed: he really was worth listening to. Great stories he told, mostly about God’s Kingdom. They often bit a bit, mind; and some people got right offended. Those religious ones especially: they didn’t like it, or him. It was interesting stuff for sure; but I had a living to make, a family to support: such stuff was not for a fisherman like me.

Saying that makes me smile now, given how it all turned out. But you just can’t know in advance, can you. It’s only when it gets quite that up close and personal that you have to make a decision. And sometime it doesn’t feel like there is any decision involved at all, actually. You just know; and then you’ve got to go with it; all the way; even if it is like handing over a blank cheque. There I go again, getting ahead of myself: I know it’s important, but do tell the story properly, man! So: the boat; my boat; the one that I wasn’t in. Jesus just helped himself – he did stuff like that – but he wanted more from me. Didn’t he know that I had work to do, and sleep to get? Still, I wasn’t leaving a landlubber like him alone in my boat!

He didn’t want very much – not at first! Just to go a little way out, so everyone could hear him. The lake was perfect for that; of course! More typical Jesus, from what I’d seen; he wanted everyone to hear, to know – even the ones who were there with their own murky agendas. I didn’t really listen – it was hard to stay awake, to be honest. I’d heard most of it before anyway: the heart of his teaching was usually the same: “This is God’s time to act. His Kingdom is good news for the poor; it’s pardon to prisoners; it’s recovery of sight for the blind; it sets the burdened and battered free”; just like God promised through Isaiah; and hadn’t yet happened.

So most people drank it all in, as usual. This was like living in our own history: God present and active; putting everything right (and not before time, either!) Yes, you could see cross faces: those professional God-botherers. Then there were those who’d just tagged along to find out what all the fuss was about: not many of them appeared very interested. But you needed to see the look on the faces of those who were waiting for Jesus to get out of the boat, so that he could make them better. It didn’t matter how often I saw it – and I’ve seen it so often now – the desperation always gets to me. But on that day they had to wait longer than usual: Jesus had other plans.

Fishing plans, of all things! At that time of day?! “You have got to be kidding me”, I thought. Now I’d been in that trade since the time I could walk: I’d done well enough to have got my own boat; so I knew a thing or two about fishing, I’d say. A bit more than a carpenter, anyway; and a rabbi?! I rest my case! So I just couldn’t let it go when he told me to head for deep water rather than shore after he was done teaching. I remember thinking something like, “Let’s see how irony goes down, then”, before telling him the facts of fishing life. “We’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I will let out the nets: Boss!” I even did it with a straight face, I tell you!

30 seconds later and a feather would’ve knocked me flat! You’ve never seen anything like it: I hadn’t anyway, not in all my born days. Those nets are built to catch; if they don’t, we starve. And they were breaking with the weight of fish! I would swear that it was true but I don’t need to. You can ask James, or John. Our yelps told them we needed help, that second. They sped out to us; but even with half the fish in their boat we were both sinking: literally! It took all we had just to get us back to land. I didn’t mind much: I certainly didn’t want to look Jesus in the face, not for as long as I could avoid it. But then we’d reached the shore: no excuses left; it was time to try and put this right, if I could. Me and my big mouth!

‘Ashamed’ didn’t even come close: all I could do was to let him know he’d do so much better with anyone else other than me. You see, it was like heaven had opened, and I knew who he was. “Lord” is what I called him, when my knees had hit the planks; and I meant it as fully as I thought was possible, then. The chasm between him and me was so obviously wider than any ocean. If he knew that; if he could do that; this was the kind of stuff that made even angels unable to look at God. Talking of angels, so I’m not one for hours of scripture study; but I did listen when I was younger. I know what angel say when they turn up; and even then I truly didn’t think Jesus said it by accident: “Don’t be afraid”. Don’t be afraid? You what?! Even I was speechless at that one!

But he wasn’t finished with me, obviously: “From now on you’ll be catching people” he told me, all four of us. Not to eat or sell, obviously! From what he said we knew that he meant, “Catch them alive, to give them life”! That’s what Jesus wanted: from me; as messed up as I was; and he meant it: that was obvious from the way that he’d never stopped looking at me from start to finish. So there I was, then: the foundations of my life were laid in pieces around my boat. Jesus wanted to rearrange them into a whole new shape; he was waiting for an answer, for me to make a choice. And that’s when I knew, all up close and personal that I had to make a decision. But it didn’t feel like there was any decision involved at all, actually. I just had to go with it; all the way; even though it really was like handing over a blank cheque. We pulled the boats up on to the shore; left them, and everything; and followed Jesus.

Now we could get all fancy, and say that we’ve just been through an Ignatian spiritual exercise. It would be true too: St Ignatius of Loyola pioneered this method of engaging with God through the Bible that’s still very much in use today. Hopefully that label wouldn’t make you think that it wasn’t for you, because it is for all of us – as I hope I’ve just shown. I did search briefly this week for this sort of a reflection on this passage that had been written by somebody ‘proper’. When I couldn’t find one, I just wrote it myself! It’s not perfect, by any means; but it doesn’t have to be. I picked Peter because he’s central to the story that needs telling today; you could do the same yourself, but do it very differently. You might want instead to put yourself in the position of someone in the crowd. You could be there wanting to listen to Jesus; or to be healed by him; or whatever. The point is that what matters is that we do engage with God and the Bible, however we each best can do that.

Our specific aim this Lent is to encourage as many people here as possible to do that. Using our imagination is just one way of engaging with God and the Bible – and it’s not for everyone. There are plenty of other ways, though. Another way is the one that’s set out on the insert in the service sheet today. You may already have seen that we’ve kept our promise to offer a scheme of daily Bible readings right through Lent. It comes with the offer of a simple Bible study method. That works no matter whether you have 5 minutes, or an hour, to give it on any particular day. You don’t have to use it at all, of course! That, like the fact that all this material is also available via our website, is just a tool for those that may want help to read through Luke until Easter.

It doesn’t matter who you are: this really is for everyone. This may be the only time in your life that you are ever in this church: it’s for you. You may be here with all kinds of mixed motives, or feelings: it’s for you; you may have past that’s chequered enough to make a Grand Prix flag: it’s for you too! As Tom Wright wrote in his commentary on this passage, ultimately there are no bystanders to God’s kingdom. Jesus didn’t want to leave anybody out: then or now. That was why he called Simon, James and John: it’s why we have Luke’s Gospel; it’s so that this good news does get to as many people as possible. Those who do these daily readings will track that part of the story as it unfolded in the First Century. We’ll track a whole lot more besides, of course: but then, this book, Luke, is one of the most brilliant writings of early Christianity. It truly is worth engaging with – at whatever level you’re willing to go to, at this stage.

Having said that, our Lenten journey in Luke begins here: with the story of someone who was dramatically pushed to a whole new level of engagement with the reality of Jesus. Thank God that Simon Peter was willing to leave his boat, his family, and his all, after this life-changing encounter. (Just as an aside: in Luke he has always been ‘Simon’ until now; this is the one time that he’s called ‘Simon Peter’; from now on he becomes known as ‘Peter’.) Peter moved from being a spectator of Jesus to being personally involved in a venture that he had no idea how would develop. It was quite a risk that Peter took; far more risky than he knew when he took it. It was still nothing compared to risk taken by the one who called him, who taught him, and who put up with him, for the next 3 years. But Peter couldn’t do any more than to risk his all, in faith and hope and trust; and to follow, as Jesus led him towards the cross.

That is where this Lenten journey leads: it leads to the cross where Jesus died for us. Wherever you are today, this is a journey that Jesus wants to take you on too. Some of us are already on the way: well, there is plenty further to go yet. So engage with Jesus through Luke this Lent to see where he wants to lead you next. Others maybe aren’t sure that we even want to start. This Lent could ‘just’ be your chance to find out more about Jesus through reading Luke. Hear what he said, see what he did, for yourself. At the end you can then decide what you then want to about him. This venture is for all of us: no matter who, or where, we are, personally, or in terms of faith. The question then, for each of us, is whether you will take the risk of engagement with Jesus through Luke this Lent? And so let’s pray ...