 By Rev. Heather J. Blais, Rector
Today’s gospel features the calling of Jesus’ disciples. All four gospels feature an account of how the disciples were called to ministry. Matthew, Mark, and Luke’s versions share similar core details, but it is only Luke who offers us such luscious details. Jesus has moved from his hometown of Nazareth to Capernaum. This small fishing village rests along the shore of Lake Gennesaret (gehn-NEHS-uh-reht), more familiar to us as the Sea of Galilee. Jesus would go on to base much of his ministry out of this village. One sabbath day he showed up in the synagogue, and began to teach.* By day's end, Jesus had healed a man with unclean spirits, Simon Peter’s mother-in-law of a high fever, and many villagers of their ailments. It didn’t take long for people to become hungry for more. More teachings, more healings, a yearning to draw nearer to the Holy One. This only continued to be the case as Jesus expanded his ministry across Judea. Our gospel lesson picks up early on in Jesus' time in Capernaum. Simon Peter and his friends, James and John, have just come back from a long night of fishing. Except these hard working fisher folk have come up short. They returned to the shore with empty nets. Before coming to Saints James and Andrew, I served a small church in a fishing village off the coast of Maine. Many villagers were lobsterfolk, or supported the fishing economy in one form or another. These lobsterfolk were generally self-employed. They would work crazy hours in all sorts of weather conditions, just to bring in a small haul of lobster that could then be sold to a distributor. One of those lobsterfolk was a parishioner. Lincoln was one of the hardest working people I’ve ever met. He gave everything to his work. All so he could provide a modest living for himself and his son. There were good seasons and bad seasons, and the success, or lack thereof, would shape their economic livelihood for the rest of the year. We can imagine what it must have felt like for Simon Peter, James, and John to come back from a long night’s work with an empty net. They were probably feeling defeated. They may have felt demoralized; concerned with the impact on their families. All they wanted was to finish their chores. Instead, they had their days, and ultimately their lives, turned upside down by an encounter with Jesus. Crowds had gathered on the shore to hear Jesus teach. They’d been pressing in on him. So he took matters into his own hands. He climbed into Simon Peter’s boat, and asked him to put out a waze from shore. I can’t imagine Simon Peter was excited by this life opportunity in the moment. He was tired and ready to be done for the day. Yet the cultural norms of respect and hospitality would have led him to do as he was asked. Besides - this guy had once healed his mother-in-law of a high fever. After Jesus was done teaching, he told Simon Peter to head into deeper water and put out his net. Simon Peter was understandably reluctant. He tactfully shared they had been fishing all night to no avail. But in the spirit of hospitality, he told Jesus, If you say so, I will.” Imagine everyone’s surprise when the net was so full, that Simon Peter had to call on his friend’s boat nearby to come and help. Before long these two boats were so full of fish that they were close to sinking. These fisherfolk and the crowd along the shore were in complete amazement. Simon Peter fell to his knees, and told Jesus to leave him. Jesus had implied that Simon Peter should trust and have faith, but he doubted. He let his fear and shame prevent him from believing. In spite of having witnessed Jesus’ incredible healing and teaching. As Simon Peter knelt before Jesus, he recognized this shortcoming. He confessed his sin, or rather, owned the fact that he’d missed the mark. Except Jesus does something unexpected. He doesn’t rebuke Simon Peter, telling him to do better, as a frustrated parent or boss might. Instead, Jesus tells him: “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” Jesus is asking Simon Peter, James, and John to set aside their fears, and accept the Holy One’s call to walk in love and fish for people. And they do. When they return to shore with the miraculous haul of fish, they walk away. Away from their boats, the fish, the financial gain it represented, and their very lives. Luke tells us, “...they left everything and followed him.” Because as Richard Meux Benson wrote in a quote I shared a couple of weeks ago, “We emerge from our encounter with Christ as changed people. We cannot follow the same path as before.” ** Each of our gospels features a story focused on the call of the disciples. These stories are meant to remind us of our own baptismal and vocational callings. So often we hear the whisper of Christ, “...calling us from the safety of the shore to an adventure of the spirit.”*** Yet following that call puts us at risk. Because we are agreeing to live by God’s values, to strive for God’s dream, which so often is at odds with the values of the world. We seek to live into our baptismal promises: to ground our lives in scripture, prayer, communion, and community; to persevere and resist selfishness and evil, and when we muck it up, return to God once again; to share the Good News of God’s love in our thoughts, words, and deeds; to seek and serve Christ in all persons by loving our neighbors as ourselves; to strive for justice and peace, and respect the inherent dignity of every human being; and to care for God’s precious creation. Our baptismal call and the promises that accompany it are a tall ask. This has been true in every generation of the Church. Yet we lean into our calling and these values, even when they feel impossible. Because once we have encountered Christ, our worlds are turned upside down. We spend the rest of our lives seeking to follow Christ, and live into these values. We also have vocational callings. Following these calls may feel like an even greater risk. As the call is asking us to step into a specific way of embracing our baptismal call in the world, and the gifts God has given us. Sometimes these vocational callings are as clear as day. We know them from a young age, and embrace them fully. This was the case for my childhood friend Julie, who seemed to come out of the womb knowing she was a writer and singer. When we really pause to reflect, we notice the particular gifts or passions that have been laid on our hearts. These kinds of vocational callings are ones we gladly share with the world, usually without even needing to think about it twice. These gifts or passions seem to be woven into our DNA. Then there are other vocational callings that feel less clear, or are deeply scary. Seeds are planted throughout our lives, and when the garden blooms, we begin to notice that God is inviting us to step into a particular vocation. It's not always clear how or why, but we know we must spend time in that garden. There is a tug on our hearts, as we just can’t keep ourselves away from it. Whether we are working in the soil, or sitting and contemplating the garden. This was my own journey in coming to terms with my call to ordained ministry. And I’ve seen many of you go through similar journeys as you discern where God is calling you to share your gifts with the world. Accepting God’s call is always a choice. We can say no and God will still cherish us. And we very well may say no to God, again and again, and again. Because it just feels too risky. Or would completely disrupt our lives and those we share them with. We wouldn’t want to inconvenience anyone. Yet if God’s inviting us, it’s because God has a reason. A reason that makes it worth the chaos, worth the vulnerability, worth the disruption, worth the uncertainty. Because God is at work in the world, and in us, in ways we cannot even imagine. We love the safety of the shore. Yet what if we dared to embrace an adventure of the spirit? What if we find the courage God has planted within us, and in faith, say yes to God? To see where this adventure and vocational journey might take us, and along the way, experience God’s unimaginable, miraculous catch. As we head back out into our snowy world today, I would invite us into some self-reflection:
Amen. Lectionary Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13] 1 Corinthians 15:1-11 Luke 5:1-11 Psalm 138 * Scripture referred to in this paragraph is from Luke 4:31-44 ** Daily Prayer for All Seasons, 54 (adapted). Original text: https://archive.org/details/benedictusdominu00bensuoft/page/52/mode/2up *** Epiphany Collect 5C, Prayers for an Inclusive Church by Steven Shakespeare Comments are closed.
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