February 7, 2010

"Into the Deep With Jesus"

Isaiah 6: 1-8

Luke 5: 1-11

Reverend William Nickels

OK.  Let’s see now.  It’s something like 11:30 on a Sunday morning… and you’ve probably been up at least a couple of hours.   

So, what’s your estimate - how many times have you, in some way today, compared yourself to other persons?           

Ten times?  Twenty times?  Fifty times? 

It wouldn’t surprise me to hear you’ve topped a hundred.  I’m absolutely certainly I have myself.                   

It goes on all the time within me, consciously and otherwise. 

I see that he’s driving a new Lexus.  I note that I’m in my old Camry.                             

She seems kind of down, while I’m feeling fairly frisky.                            

I don’t know much about fashion, but you’d never catch me in a tie like that! 

Sometimes, I even compare myself with myself – O… I’m not the man I used to be, I say as I start off on my morning run.           

It’s not unusual for people to compare themselves to others.                   

And in fact, it may be an unavoidable activity.  

Sometimes, I’m sure, it helps us define ourselves.  It helps us feel OK or maybe better about who we are.                  

After a shift volunteering at the hospital, you meet a friend who tells you she’s bored, sitting home all day with nothing to do. 

And you feel a little superior and pleased with the choice you’ve made.  

But sometimes comparing ourselves with others can unsettle us… particularly if the people we’re considering are persons with qualities we lack or accomplishments we can’t quite match. 

The neighbor who gives up two weeks of vacation to work with a mission team in Haiti is definitely a great guy.  

But, in light of that, the thought of the few dollars you gave for relief efforts leaves you feeling kind of chintzy and uncomfortable.  

Rudyard Kipling once addressed a graduating class at McGill University in Quebec… giving the students with something to ponder.  

Someday, he said, you will meet someone who cares nothing for money, success or fame.  Then you will see how empty your own life is. 

How empty it is.  How shallow and self-consumed.   

In comparison.  You’ll see.  You’ll know.   

Something happened to Simon the fisherman, I think, the day he and Jesus went out on the Lake of Gennesaret together. 

The day before, Christ had preached powerfully in Capernaum.   

He’d relieved a possessed man of the demon he’d been tormented by.   

And going into Simon’s home, he healed the fisherman’s ailing mother-in-law. 

So Simon knew that he was dealing with a man with some authority. 

And it doesn’t surprise me that Simon allowed Jesus to use his boat as a place to preach from…  

or that, when Christ told Simon to put out into the deep and let down his nets for a catch, Simon responded by calling Christ, Master… and by doing what he was told.         

But fishing was Simon’s area of expertise and competence… not Christ’s.   

Out on the Lake, Simon knew what he was doing.  He knew his prey.  He knew his equipment.  He knew the possibilities. 

And he was just goin’ along with Jesus, maybe as a way of expressing his appreciation to Christ for healing his wife’s mother. 

Just goin’ along… until, Omygod, there were fish in the nets!  Peter realized he was wrong. 

There were… so many fish!  Never seen so many fish!  

Omygod.  Who is this… person… in my boat… here beside me, in my boat?                  

Two things certainly in that moment became frighteningly clear to Simon:   

who that… person… in his boat was… and who he was. 

Lord, get away from me, he cried.  Leave me.  Let me go.   

I am not a good man.  I am not a God man.  I am full of sin.  And I am afraid of you.   

I am afraid of you and what you want of me.   

People come to church, I think, for a lot of reasons.  Do you ever come for advice?  Here’s a word of advice:  

If you want to avoid facing the truth about yourself…      

if you don’t want to see how self-centered you are, how little you trust God, or how shallow your desires really are, how empty your life really is…  

you’ll probably want to avoid Jesus… if you can.   

That’s one thing this story suggests to me.  And Luke’s narrative calls me to consider that carefully.  

If, on the other hand, you are open to being challenged, to being stretched, to experiencing growth… 

if you want to see how deeply you can mine the riches of life… 

if you want to discover how generously you can spend yourself, how far you can go in trusting God… the difference you can make for others… how abundantly you can live…                   

start following Jesus.  

Start today.  I’m sure even just a little time with Jesus will give you a sense of the depths to which he’s capable of taking you.   

Are you open to some challenge?  Do you want to discover how deeply you can live?          

My guess is that, in their heart of hearts, most persons don’t. 

And for that reason most neither follow Christ, exactly, nor do they avoid him entirely. 

I think there’s a fair amount of dancing around Jesus – sometimes closer, sometimes farther back – but very little dancing right there in his arms.  

What about you?  How closely do you generally dance?   

How deeply do you want to live?           

Lord, get away from me, Simon cried.  I am not a good man.  Depart from me, Lord.   

But, the voice in his head continued, please, don’t go too far.   

Well, maybe Simon knew, when he told Christ to go, that Jesus wasn’t likely to leave him then. 

They were, after all, in Simon’s boat.  How far away could Christ have gotten?          

(although he was able to walk on water…) 

Anyway, it’s clear that Christ wasn’t going to leave Simon behind, that he had no intention of letting Simon’s protestations put much distance between them. 

Christ knew – and even understood – what was actually underneath the fisherman’s words, his professed sinfulness, his declarations: Fear. 

Fear of being found out… of being shown up as a failure or a fraud.   

Fear of being changed by someone who could cast out demons. 

Sure, they’re demons… but after a while, a fellow gets used to his demons… gets used to having them around. 

Fear of losing control – of no longer being captain of his own boat. 

Fear of leaving the shallows, of being taken out into the really deep water and maybe left by God. 

Fear of having to live always in the deep water.  

And fear of never being able to live there.           

Simon was afraid.  And Christ understood that.                   

He understands our fears, just the same.           

Do not be afraid, Simon, Jesus said to the man beside him.   

Do not be afraid.  Come along with me… and before you know it, you’ll be catching men… the same as I do.   

Well, Simon did go along with Jesus.  He beached his boat and left the nets and followed Christ on his way… on their way.         

And they had some adventures together – did they ever! 

And they went deep… deep into life, deep in love, deep in faith.  They went deep together. 

Simon grew such faith and became so full… not of sin but of God-life and love… that he became Peter, Christ’s rock.          

Jesus took that rock into his hand and held it till he had to let it go. 

And then he caught it on its way down, and carried Peter with him to the other side… into the deepest deep there is… the fullest life there is.                              

Christ carried him everywhere he went.  And then, when he went to heaven, Christ carried him there, as well.          

In life and in death, following Jesus into the deeps.                   

May it be so for you and for me.