Fifth Sunday After The Epiphany
Preaching
Lectionary Preaching Workbook
Series VII, Cycle C
Object:
Theme For The Day
When Jesus calls, the only thing to do is follow.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 6:1-8 (9-13)
The Call Of Isaiah
Last week we heard of the call of Jeremiah. This week, we hear of how the Lord first spoke to Isaiah. Unlike Jeremiah's call, Isaiah's experience has a specific setting: the Jerusalem Temple. From our perspective, we would say it happened while he was sitting in church; yet this worship setting is unlike any that we have experienced. The temple interior is dark, lit by blazing lamplight. The room is filled with the acrid smell of smoke, from the burning meat of the sacrifices. Isaiah looks up and sees the Lord, enthroned before him like an eastern monarch. Circling around this divine figure are six-winged angels, known as seraphim, loudly singing songs of praise. Isaiah feels the sensation of an earthquake. He is thoroughly unnerved by what he hears and sees, moaning, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips" (v. 5a). The sight of the Lord, enthroned in majesty, elicits repentance. Just as the Lord touched Jeremiah's mouth to consecrate his prophetic speech, so too one of the seraphim flies over to Isaiah and touches his mouth on the Lord's behalf -- with the added element, here, of a burning coal. Isaiah has complained that he is "a man of unclean lips" -- the heat of the fire cauterizes his speech, so that henceforth he will be worthy to speak God's Word. The passage ends with verse 8, a ringing call to service. The Lord asks, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" to which Isaiah boldly replies, "Here am I; send me!" Verses 9-13, in which the Lord speaks of the difficulties of the prophetic vocation, are an optional addition.
New Testament Lesson
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
The Heart Of The Gospel
Skipping over chapter 14, which includes detailed instructions on how speaking in tongues may be conducted in an orderly fashion in the church, the lectionary moves on to loftier matters. In this chapter, Paul expresses the essence of the Christian proclamation, beginning with words that are thought to come from an ancient creed. The formula with which he begins this section ("For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received ..." [v. 3]), strongly suggests a creedal origin. Perhaps these were the very words Ananias of Damascus first taught him, in those confusing days after his conversion experience (Acts 9). This passage is very much focused on the resurrection. While it mentions Christ's saving death, the greater part of it is focused on the resurrection. Paul's extensive list of witnesses to the resurrection is probably his own expansion on the early creed. He concludes this list of witnesses by writing himself into it, as "one untimely born" -- a particularly earthy Greek term that literally means an aborted fetus. Paul uses such strong language, he explains, because he is still ashamed of his preconversion role as a persecutor of Christians. His words in verse 10 ("But by the grace of God I am what I am ...") witness to the truth that, in Christ, redemption is possible for anyone. Paul himself is the most compelling example of that.
The Gospel
Luke 5:1-11
Jesus Calls His First Disciples
Unlike Matthew and Mark, who place Jesus' call of the first disciples at the very beginning of his ministry, Luke tells this story a bit later, after several healings have taken place, and Jesus' reputation has presumably grown. Matthew's and Mark's accounts are simple, barebones versions: Jesus speaks, and the new disciples wordlessly get up and follow. Here, Luke includes a miracle to incite the fishermen's interest -- a miraculous catch of fish. In response to the bulging net, Simon is overcome with guilt. He realizes, now, that this stranger is some sort of messenger sent from God, and immediately falls down in the bottom of the boat, confessing his sins (v. 8). His phrase, "Go away from me, Lord," has more to do with Simon's embarrassment at his sinfulness than with a desire not to see Jesus. The line, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people" (v. 10), is also found in Matthew's and Mark's versions, as is the observation that the fishermen immediately left everything behind and followed Jesus.
Preaching Possibilities
"If you think this fish is big ... why, you should have seen the one that got away!"
The two little words "fish story" are synonymous in our minds with -- how shall we put it? -- creative embellishment of the truth. "The one that got away" can't be dredged up out of the deep to dangle from a scale, or to be laid out, tail twisting and flapping, against a ruler. It's the fisherman's word alone that measures the length of "the one that got away," that enters its weight in the logbook. Let's just say that a fisherman's account of such an event isn't a byword for reliability.
Today's Gospel Reading is a fish story, but not of the usual, unreliable sort. Luke, after all (according to church tradition) is not a fisherman, but a physician. What incentive would he have for stretching the truth about how many fish stretched Simon Peter's net?
The biggest fish Jesus bagged that day wasn't plucked from the net at all. It was Peter, the fisherman himself.
Simon Peter is not the sort of fisherman who, early on a Saturday morning, dons his favorite beat-up old hat (the one with all the lures hanging from it) and powers up his outboard motor for a trip to his favorite fishing spot. He is what we'd call today a commercial fisherman: one for whom the act of fishing is not recreation, but serious business.
That particular morning finds Peter mending his nets by the lakeshore of Lake Gennesaret. He and his partners caught nothing the night before. Hour upon hour they dangled their lanterns over the water, hoping to bewitch the shoals of fish they knew were there feeding in the shallows. Hour upon hour they cast their nets into the waves, then hauled them back over the gunwales, dripping wet and reeking of seaweed -- but all for naught. Come sunrise, Peter and his companions are weary, sore of back and arm -- and thoroughly demoralized.
As the sun climbs over the horizon, the fishermen sit by the shore, passing knot after knot through their calloused, bleeding fingers, hoping to discover the gaping hole in the net that will redeem their failure, that will free them to go home and face their families, standing tall as the expert fishermen they are.
Their minds are on a hot meal and a soft bed, nothing more -- until he shows up. It's that teacher, come from Nazareth, "the carpenter," they call him. They know him to be a working man, like themselves: One who knows the satisfaction of hard labor, the reassuring comfort of hefting in his hand the familiar tools of a trade. They've also heard he knows the scriptures backward and forward -- and that, when he opens his mouth to speak, it is like unto the voice of God.
A great crowd is surging after Jesus, hard on his heels -- for by now his reputation has preceded him. He needs a pulpit in the worst way. Peter's boat does the trick. He rows it out a few feet and lets the teacher sit there, insulated by the silvery band of water from the multitude who yearn to touch him, to hold him, to tear off a piece of his clothing.
As for Peter, he slumps down in the back of the boat, eyelids heavy with fatigue. The teacher's words wash over him, soothing his troubled spirit. In that dim shadowland between wakefulness and sleep, Peter clings to the teacher's words as though to a lifeline in a heavy sea. Something deep within tells him this man speaks truth.
Jesus' words jolt him out of his reverie. He isn't preaching any longer; he's speaking directly to Peter. "Put out into the deep water," he commands, gently, "and let down your nets for a catch."
The deep water? Why, even the greenest apprentice knows it's in the shallows near the shore that the fish feed. Besides, the sun is now high in the sky -- hardly the time of day for profitable fishing!
"Master, are you sure? We worked all night and caught nothing!" But something within the sturdy heart of this commercial fisherman whispers that he ought to take the carpenter's fishing tip, just this once.
So Peter and his companions row out to the deep water, let down their nets -- and find, to their astonishment, that they can hardly haul them in for all the fish! It takes two boats and their crews to bring that catch to shore.
Peter's reaction to all this seems very strange. You might expect him to be overjoyed at the miraculous catch or, on the other hand, to feel mortified that this landlubber has shown him, the master mariner, where to find fish. Yet for Peter, the catch of fish seems almost beside the point. He falls at Jesus' feet. "Go away from me, Lord," he begs, "for I am a sinful man!"
What a peculiar reaction! Yet it's in keeping with who Peter is and with whom he has discovered Jesus to be. Kneeling on the planks of his fishing boat and hauling in that bulging net, it suddenly occurs to Peter that he is in the presence of the holy. The man sitting beside him is the carpenter from Nazareth, yes; but somehow he's more than that, more than meets the eye.
They say that when people are drowning, their lives flash before their eyes. Maybe that's the way it was for Peter. Suddenly he's a man overboard, arms and legs churning the waves -- caught up in a foaming, spiritual maelstrom that threatens to drag him to the bottom of the sea. It's the stuff of nightmares, for a fisherman ... but this is no nightmare, for the sun is gleaming off the silvery waves.
Suddenly it's as though Peter finds himself before the throne of God. The prophet Isaiah had a moment like that, in the temple; "Woe is me," he despaired, "for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips." The Apostle Paul, reflecting on his moment of truth, would later write of it, "Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared even to me."
It was that sort of experience Peter had, kneeling on the smooth, weathered planks of his fishing boat. Not for a long time after that would Peter sail Gennesaret's waves again, searching out shoals of fish. For no sooner does he row Jesus back to shore, than Peter leaves his boat and his nets -- and yes, even that miraculous catch of fish -- and follows him. The fish are now the least of his concerns. "Do not be afraid," Jesus tells him; "from now on, you will be catching people."
Peter's a person to whom we can all relate – for there's not a man, woman, or child among us who hasn't known something of this experience called failure....
"Master, we have worked all night long, but have caught nothing."
"Day after day, I toil to keep this house clean, to raise you children, and do I ever get a word of thanks?"
"They may call it a 'corporate restructuring,' but I'm still out of a job."
"They say retirement's supposed to be 'the golden years' -- if that's true why does life seem so empty?"
"Put out into the deep water," says the Lord, "and let your nets down for a catch." As we lean over the gunwale, and peer into the murky depths, we see only the dark terror in our souls. We convince ourselves that ours is a world of scarcity, not abundance -- a dog-eat-dog place where only the strong survive. We steel ourselves continually for failure -- and aren't at all sure we'd recognize success, even if it ran right into us. Funny, but for a gospel people, we find it remarkably easy to accept Good Friday. We even expect things to turn out that way. It's the thought of Easter that scares us half out of our wits!
If we take him at his word -- if we have the courage to leave behind our nets, our boats, our aspirations to be admired, our pride -- and set off with him on that journey of self-discovery, we will find that all our former definitions of success and failure will be shattered, the boundaries of our hopes burst at the seams, our nets hauled in with an overwhelming catch. As for the catch itself, that won't matter; for the greatest reward of all is knowing him.
Prayer For The Day
Lord, you have made us for the journey,
but we are people who shun the road.
We love our creature comforts.
We worship familiarity.
We find it hard to get up and follow.
Yet, follow we must,
if we are to be your disciples.
When you call and we do not hear you,
keep calling, we pray.
Fit us for the journey,
so we may do you honor. Amen.
To Illustrate
Centuries after Peter's encounter with Jesus, a pampered Roman nobleman named Augustine would encounter the carpenter of Nazareth in the quiet luxury of a walled garden, and of that encounter would write: "I was mad for health, and dying for life; knowing what evil thing I was, and not knowing what good thing I was shortly to become ... I was greatly disturbed in spirit...."
Augustine goes on to tell how he heard a faint voice, like that of a child, telling him to "take and read." He picks up a Bible, and opens it to Romans 13:13: "Let us live honorably, as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires."
Compelling words, for a jaded playboy like Augustine. He continues, "I wanted to read no further, nor did I need to. For instantly, as the sentence ended, there was infused in my heart something like the light of full certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished away."
-- From Confessions of St. Augustine (Urichsville, Ohio: Barbour Publishing Inc., 1993)
***
What an unlikely choice this Peter is for an evangelist! A common fisherman, untutored in the fine points of scripture, he's big, ungainly, ragged of dress. The crown of his head is balding, and what little hair he's got left is going gray. He's too old for this, many would say. And besides, he smells of fish.
Simon Peter is a rough and even uncouth person. He's clumsy, impulsive, unrefined. When his temper gets the better of him, he can curse a blue streak. He probably knows the inside of every seedy waterfront tavern in Galilee.
Yet it is this man -- not some brilliant rabbinical student, or pious Pharisee -- whom Jesus calls to join him in "fishing for people." Responding to that call, Peter lays aside every worldly accomplishment and success, and sets off with the carpenter on a quixotic journey across the hills and dales of Galilee and Judea.
At the end of Jesus' journey, a cross awaits. Before his own journey with the carpenter is ended, Peter will betray everything his master stands for, slicing off the ear of the high priest's servant with a sword. Scant hours after that, Peter will deny his Lord three times, to stay out of jail. Some success he is! At the end of Peter's own journey -- the larger journey of his life -- likewise waits a cross. According to tradition, the Galilean fisherman's journey will finally spin itself out in far-off Rome with him hanging upside-down on a cross, the breath squeezed gradually from his body by Roman torture. Where's the success in that?
Yet, over the purported site of this fisherman's grave in Vatican City rises a huge cathedral bearing his name, until this century, the largest church in the world. Not a typical monument to a humble fisherman -- but a token of the church's esteem for him, and the way he left his nets without hesitation.
***
There is an old movie called The Left Hand of God. It is about a renegade pilot, played by Humphrey Bogart, who is shot down over China during World War II and nearly captured by a local robber baron. In order to escape the clutches of this corrupt official, he assumes the identity of a dead priest and hides out in a small Chinese village. Eventually, he comes to be loved by the people, who have not had a priest for several years. The change that occurs in Humphrey Bogart, who plays the pilot, as he assumes the persona of the priest, is astounding. God will use anyone to accomplish divine purposes.
***
In 1983, Apple Computer founder, Steve Jobs, had realized that the company had grown too large for him to manage. He was a computer designer and a creative entrepreneur, but he didn't know much about leading a large corporation. He began a search for a seasoned executive to come in and manage Apple's daily operations.
He turned to a man named John Scully, who by 1983 had become a senior vice president at Pepsi. Scully was in charge of Pepsi's worldwide marketing. Everyone expected him to rise even higher. At the time he agreed to have dinner with Steve Jobs, he wasn't looking to leave Pepsi. Why would he leave the fast track headed toward senior leadership in a Fortune 500 company, to take a smaller salary and move to assume full responsibility for an upstart, west coast computer company?
Over dinner, Scully laid out for Jobs all the reasons he had decided not to leave Pepsi. Jobs refuted not a single one of his points. He just leaned across the table and said, "John, what are you doing with your life? Are you going to spend it making colored sugar water, or are you going to come to Apple Computer and change the world?"
Scully later said that, the moment he heard those words, he knew he would leave Pepsi and go to Apple. He had a challenge before him: to change the world!
When Jesus calls, the only thing to do is follow.
Old Testament Lesson
Isaiah 6:1-8 (9-13)
The Call Of Isaiah
Last week we heard of the call of Jeremiah. This week, we hear of how the Lord first spoke to Isaiah. Unlike Jeremiah's call, Isaiah's experience has a specific setting: the Jerusalem Temple. From our perspective, we would say it happened while he was sitting in church; yet this worship setting is unlike any that we have experienced. The temple interior is dark, lit by blazing lamplight. The room is filled with the acrid smell of smoke, from the burning meat of the sacrifices. Isaiah looks up and sees the Lord, enthroned before him like an eastern monarch. Circling around this divine figure are six-winged angels, known as seraphim, loudly singing songs of praise. Isaiah feels the sensation of an earthquake. He is thoroughly unnerved by what he hears and sees, moaning, "Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips" (v. 5a). The sight of the Lord, enthroned in majesty, elicits repentance. Just as the Lord touched Jeremiah's mouth to consecrate his prophetic speech, so too one of the seraphim flies over to Isaiah and touches his mouth on the Lord's behalf -- with the added element, here, of a burning coal. Isaiah has complained that he is "a man of unclean lips" -- the heat of the fire cauterizes his speech, so that henceforth he will be worthy to speak God's Word. The passage ends with verse 8, a ringing call to service. The Lord asks, "Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?" to which Isaiah boldly replies, "Here am I; send me!" Verses 9-13, in which the Lord speaks of the difficulties of the prophetic vocation, are an optional addition.
New Testament Lesson
1 Corinthians 15:1-11
The Heart Of The Gospel
Skipping over chapter 14, which includes detailed instructions on how speaking in tongues may be conducted in an orderly fashion in the church, the lectionary moves on to loftier matters. In this chapter, Paul expresses the essence of the Christian proclamation, beginning with words that are thought to come from an ancient creed. The formula with which he begins this section ("For I handed on to you as of first importance what I in turn had received ..." [v. 3]), strongly suggests a creedal origin. Perhaps these were the very words Ananias of Damascus first taught him, in those confusing days after his conversion experience (Acts 9). This passage is very much focused on the resurrection. While it mentions Christ's saving death, the greater part of it is focused on the resurrection. Paul's extensive list of witnesses to the resurrection is probably his own expansion on the early creed. He concludes this list of witnesses by writing himself into it, as "one untimely born" -- a particularly earthy Greek term that literally means an aborted fetus. Paul uses such strong language, he explains, because he is still ashamed of his preconversion role as a persecutor of Christians. His words in verse 10 ("But by the grace of God I am what I am ...") witness to the truth that, in Christ, redemption is possible for anyone. Paul himself is the most compelling example of that.
The Gospel
Luke 5:1-11
Jesus Calls His First Disciples
Unlike Matthew and Mark, who place Jesus' call of the first disciples at the very beginning of his ministry, Luke tells this story a bit later, after several healings have taken place, and Jesus' reputation has presumably grown. Matthew's and Mark's accounts are simple, barebones versions: Jesus speaks, and the new disciples wordlessly get up and follow. Here, Luke includes a miracle to incite the fishermen's interest -- a miraculous catch of fish. In response to the bulging net, Simon is overcome with guilt. He realizes, now, that this stranger is some sort of messenger sent from God, and immediately falls down in the bottom of the boat, confessing his sins (v. 8). His phrase, "Go away from me, Lord," has more to do with Simon's embarrassment at his sinfulness than with a desire not to see Jesus. The line, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people" (v. 10), is also found in Matthew's and Mark's versions, as is the observation that the fishermen immediately left everything behind and followed Jesus.
Preaching Possibilities
"If you think this fish is big ... why, you should have seen the one that got away!"
The two little words "fish story" are synonymous in our minds with -- how shall we put it? -- creative embellishment of the truth. "The one that got away" can't be dredged up out of the deep to dangle from a scale, or to be laid out, tail twisting and flapping, against a ruler. It's the fisherman's word alone that measures the length of "the one that got away," that enters its weight in the logbook. Let's just say that a fisherman's account of such an event isn't a byword for reliability.
Today's Gospel Reading is a fish story, but not of the usual, unreliable sort. Luke, after all (according to church tradition) is not a fisherman, but a physician. What incentive would he have for stretching the truth about how many fish stretched Simon Peter's net?
The biggest fish Jesus bagged that day wasn't plucked from the net at all. It was Peter, the fisherman himself.
Simon Peter is not the sort of fisherman who, early on a Saturday morning, dons his favorite beat-up old hat (the one with all the lures hanging from it) and powers up his outboard motor for a trip to his favorite fishing spot. He is what we'd call today a commercial fisherman: one for whom the act of fishing is not recreation, but serious business.
That particular morning finds Peter mending his nets by the lakeshore of Lake Gennesaret. He and his partners caught nothing the night before. Hour upon hour they dangled their lanterns over the water, hoping to bewitch the shoals of fish they knew were there feeding in the shallows. Hour upon hour they cast their nets into the waves, then hauled them back over the gunwales, dripping wet and reeking of seaweed -- but all for naught. Come sunrise, Peter and his companions are weary, sore of back and arm -- and thoroughly demoralized.
As the sun climbs over the horizon, the fishermen sit by the shore, passing knot after knot through their calloused, bleeding fingers, hoping to discover the gaping hole in the net that will redeem their failure, that will free them to go home and face their families, standing tall as the expert fishermen they are.
Their minds are on a hot meal and a soft bed, nothing more -- until he shows up. It's that teacher, come from Nazareth, "the carpenter," they call him. They know him to be a working man, like themselves: One who knows the satisfaction of hard labor, the reassuring comfort of hefting in his hand the familiar tools of a trade. They've also heard he knows the scriptures backward and forward -- and that, when he opens his mouth to speak, it is like unto the voice of God.
A great crowd is surging after Jesus, hard on his heels -- for by now his reputation has preceded him. He needs a pulpit in the worst way. Peter's boat does the trick. He rows it out a few feet and lets the teacher sit there, insulated by the silvery band of water from the multitude who yearn to touch him, to hold him, to tear off a piece of his clothing.
As for Peter, he slumps down in the back of the boat, eyelids heavy with fatigue. The teacher's words wash over him, soothing his troubled spirit. In that dim shadowland between wakefulness and sleep, Peter clings to the teacher's words as though to a lifeline in a heavy sea. Something deep within tells him this man speaks truth.
Jesus' words jolt him out of his reverie. He isn't preaching any longer; he's speaking directly to Peter. "Put out into the deep water," he commands, gently, "and let down your nets for a catch."
The deep water? Why, even the greenest apprentice knows it's in the shallows near the shore that the fish feed. Besides, the sun is now high in the sky -- hardly the time of day for profitable fishing!
"Master, are you sure? We worked all night and caught nothing!" But something within the sturdy heart of this commercial fisherman whispers that he ought to take the carpenter's fishing tip, just this once.
So Peter and his companions row out to the deep water, let down their nets -- and find, to their astonishment, that they can hardly haul them in for all the fish! It takes two boats and their crews to bring that catch to shore.
Peter's reaction to all this seems very strange. You might expect him to be overjoyed at the miraculous catch or, on the other hand, to feel mortified that this landlubber has shown him, the master mariner, where to find fish. Yet for Peter, the catch of fish seems almost beside the point. He falls at Jesus' feet. "Go away from me, Lord," he begs, "for I am a sinful man!"
What a peculiar reaction! Yet it's in keeping with who Peter is and with whom he has discovered Jesus to be. Kneeling on the planks of his fishing boat and hauling in that bulging net, it suddenly occurs to Peter that he is in the presence of the holy. The man sitting beside him is the carpenter from Nazareth, yes; but somehow he's more than that, more than meets the eye.
They say that when people are drowning, their lives flash before their eyes. Maybe that's the way it was for Peter. Suddenly he's a man overboard, arms and legs churning the waves -- caught up in a foaming, spiritual maelstrom that threatens to drag him to the bottom of the sea. It's the stuff of nightmares, for a fisherman ... but this is no nightmare, for the sun is gleaming off the silvery waves.
Suddenly it's as though Peter finds himself before the throne of God. The prophet Isaiah had a moment like that, in the temple; "Woe is me," he despaired, "for I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips." The Apostle Paul, reflecting on his moment of truth, would later write of it, "Last of all, as to one untimely born, he appeared even to me."
It was that sort of experience Peter had, kneeling on the smooth, weathered planks of his fishing boat. Not for a long time after that would Peter sail Gennesaret's waves again, searching out shoals of fish. For no sooner does he row Jesus back to shore, than Peter leaves his boat and his nets -- and yes, even that miraculous catch of fish -- and follows him. The fish are now the least of his concerns. "Do not be afraid," Jesus tells him; "from now on, you will be catching people."
Peter's a person to whom we can all relate – for there's not a man, woman, or child among us who hasn't known something of this experience called failure....
"Master, we have worked all night long, but have caught nothing."
"Day after day, I toil to keep this house clean, to raise you children, and do I ever get a word of thanks?"
"They may call it a 'corporate restructuring,' but I'm still out of a job."
"They say retirement's supposed to be 'the golden years' -- if that's true why does life seem so empty?"
"Put out into the deep water," says the Lord, "and let your nets down for a catch." As we lean over the gunwale, and peer into the murky depths, we see only the dark terror in our souls. We convince ourselves that ours is a world of scarcity, not abundance -- a dog-eat-dog place where only the strong survive. We steel ourselves continually for failure -- and aren't at all sure we'd recognize success, even if it ran right into us. Funny, but for a gospel people, we find it remarkably easy to accept Good Friday. We even expect things to turn out that way. It's the thought of Easter that scares us half out of our wits!
If we take him at his word -- if we have the courage to leave behind our nets, our boats, our aspirations to be admired, our pride -- and set off with him on that journey of self-discovery, we will find that all our former definitions of success and failure will be shattered, the boundaries of our hopes burst at the seams, our nets hauled in with an overwhelming catch. As for the catch itself, that won't matter; for the greatest reward of all is knowing him.
Prayer For The Day
Lord, you have made us for the journey,
but we are people who shun the road.
We love our creature comforts.
We worship familiarity.
We find it hard to get up and follow.
Yet, follow we must,
if we are to be your disciples.
When you call and we do not hear you,
keep calling, we pray.
Fit us for the journey,
so we may do you honor. Amen.
To Illustrate
Centuries after Peter's encounter with Jesus, a pampered Roman nobleman named Augustine would encounter the carpenter of Nazareth in the quiet luxury of a walled garden, and of that encounter would write: "I was mad for health, and dying for life; knowing what evil thing I was, and not knowing what good thing I was shortly to become ... I was greatly disturbed in spirit...."
Augustine goes on to tell how he heard a faint voice, like that of a child, telling him to "take and read." He picks up a Bible, and opens it to Romans 13:13: "Let us live honorably, as in the day, not in reveling and drunkenness, not in debauchery and licentiousness, not in quarrelling and jealousy. Instead, put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh, to gratify its desires."
Compelling words, for a jaded playboy like Augustine. He continues, "I wanted to read no further, nor did I need to. For instantly, as the sentence ended, there was infused in my heart something like the light of full certainty and all the gloom of doubt vanished away."
-- From Confessions of St. Augustine (Urichsville, Ohio: Barbour Publishing Inc., 1993)
***
What an unlikely choice this Peter is for an evangelist! A common fisherman, untutored in the fine points of scripture, he's big, ungainly, ragged of dress. The crown of his head is balding, and what little hair he's got left is going gray. He's too old for this, many would say. And besides, he smells of fish.
Simon Peter is a rough and even uncouth person. He's clumsy, impulsive, unrefined. When his temper gets the better of him, he can curse a blue streak. He probably knows the inside of every seedy waterfront tavern in Galilee.
Yet it is this man -- not some brilliant rabbinical student, or pious Pharisee -- whom Jesus calls to join him in "fishing for people." Responding to that call, Peter lays aside every worldly accomplishment and success, and sets off with the carpenter on a quixotic journey across the hills and dales of Galilee and Judea.
At the end of Jesus' journey, a cross awaits. Before his own journey with the carpenter is ended, Peter will betray everything his master stands for, slicing off the ear of the high priest's servant with a sword. Scant hours after that, Peter will deny his Lord three times, to stay out of jail. Some success he is! At the end of Peter's own journey -- the larger journey of his life -- likewise waits a cross. According to tradition, the Galilean fisherman's journey will finally spin itself out in far-off Rome with him hanging upside-down on a cross, the breath squeezed gradually from his body by Roman torture. Where's the success in that?
Yet, over the purported site of this fisherman's grave in Vatican City rises a huge cathedral bearing his name, until this century, the largest church in the world. Not a typical monument to a humble fisherman -- but a token of the church's esteem for him, and the way he left his nets without hesitation.
***
There is an old movie called The Left Hand of God. It is about a renegade pilot, played by Humphrey Bogart, who is shot down over China during World War II and nearly captured by a local robber baron. In order to escape the clutches of this corrupt official, he assumes the identity of a dead priest and hides out in a small Chinese village. Eventually, he comes to be loved by the people, who have not had a priest for several years. The change that occurs in Humphrey Bogart, who plays the pilot, as he assumes the persona of the priest, is astounding. God will use anyone to accomplish divine purposes.
***
In 1983, Apple Computer founder, Steve Jobs, had realized that the company had grown too large for him to manage. He was a computer designer and a creative entrepreneur, but he didn't know much about leading a large corporation. He began a search for a seasoned executive to come in and manage Apple's daily operations.
He turned to a man named John Scully, who by 1983 had become a senior vice president at Pepsi. Scully was in charge of Pepsi's worldwide marketing. Everyone expected him to rise even higher. At the time he agreed to have dinner with Steve Jobs, he wasn't looking to leave Pepsi. Why would he leave the fast track headed toward senior leadership in a Fortune 500 company, to take a smaller salary and move to assume full responsibility for an upstart, west coast computer company?
Over dinner, Scully laid out for Jobs all the reasons he had decided not to leave Pepsi. Jobs refuted not a single one of his points. He just leaned across the table and said, "John, what are you doing with your life? Are you going to spend it making colored sugar water, or are you going to come to Apple Computer and change the world?"
Scully later said that, the moment he heard those words, he knew he would leave Pepsi and go to Apple. He had a challenge before him: to change the world!
