Sermon by: Fr. Bob Wickizer
Liturgical Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8, [9-13]; 1 Corinthians 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11; Psalm 138
Good morning everyone. Hasn’t this been a glorious weather week? I hope you got outside and enjoyed the warm spring weather. Oops, it is still winter. A few highlights about this from around the world. The Moscow River has been ice-free the past few years. They now run tour boats on the river year-round. Moscow has no snow this year, only rain. North of the Arctic Circle has been 10-15 degrees warmer than historic averages. Kinda makes you wonder what summer’s going to be.
One of my favorite summer pastimes is fishing. I love the simplicity and the randomness of it. I’m not very good, but it gets me outside enjoying God’s creation. My middle brother is the fisherman of the family. He seems to have fish karma or a sixth sense for knowing where they are and what they want. It’s impressive to go fishing with him. He is always gracious, and we love our fish dinners. We never keep score although it is usually Bro, 6, Bob, 1.
I know what it is like to fish most of the night without success. I have asked that they put this on my tombstone: “He should have been here yesterday.” As the sun comes up, you’re tired, hungry, maybe a bit surly from your dashed expectations going out hoping for a big haul, and after a lot of work, not much to show for it. I’ve been there, done that. The nets are heavy. The disciples were probably exhausted.
The last thing they wanted to hear was some country bumpkin who knew nothing about fishing, telling them what to do – even if it was Jesus. We know the rest of the story. But we often miss the very first lesson. People living in small, stone houses on the shore of a lake and depending on fish for income and food are subsisting on their daily catch. They don’t have refrigerators and grocery stores. There is no social security. Fishing is their job and their life. No catch today means that your family goes hungry.
Twenty-one centuries later, very few of us on this planet live like this. We have canned goods, stuff in boxes and jars and plastic bags, and a refrigerator full of stuff including strawberries from South America fresh in the middle of winter. Earlier, I was tempted to say that I know what it feels like to fish all night without success. But I don’t really. No success means hunger that day. Their lives were just one bad storm away from non-existence.
In telling them where to fish and filling their boats with an insane catch, Jesus didn’t just give them a month’s income and a bit of freedom from life’s immediate demands, he fed them. Those folks on the Sea of Gallilee (Lake Genesseret) were Jewish peasants fishing and farming in the hill country. They had distinctive accents like our southerners in the US. They were probably perpetually skinny and hungry. But their hunger had several layers to it. First was the physical hunger of providing enough calories for the day’s activities. Next was a spiritual hunger. “Is this all there is?” “Is the Jerusalem temple really where God lives?” “Does our simple life out here in the sticks really matter to God?” Those are the practical, spiritual questions, people living outside of big cities will wonder about.
And thirdly was political hunger. The long reach of Roman Imperial Occupation of Palestina (the regional name given by the Romans as a Latin version of Phillistine) could not be escaped by living in the countryside. They had to pay tolls on the roads, taxes to support the outrageous building program in Rome, tributes to the emperor, bribes to the military, and their catch or harvest was sometimes requisitioned by troops nearby. They hated the Romans and everything they stood for. The peasants longed for a military savior who would drive out these bad guys.
From here we can learn several things. First, if you are going to be fishers of people, you might need to feed them and meet their physical needs first. But the WAY in which this is done is essential. In the summer, if you take a flight from the US to Guatemala or Honduras, you will find that the flight is carrying dozens of excited teenagers wearing color-coded tee shirts, headed to the boondocks on a Christian mission to bring Jesus to these poor people in the mountains. I have spoken with many of them on these flights. They are almost all evangelical, and there is a palpable amount of smugness in their attitudes. Like “We Norte Americanos know best. We will help you. We will fix you. We have money. We will dig a well for you.” I found the attitude universal and nauseating.
But if you meet them one on one, as fellow human beings. Learn their language. Talk, share, eat. Develop relationships. Then you can find out what they need and help them. They might help you too. The Bible is not helpful in understanding this because we get the impression that Jesus beams down from outer space, does his miracle, and quickly goes somewhere else for another miracle. If we believe Jesus was fully human, then this sense of the bible could not possibly be the way things happened.
They walked from village to village. It was slow and hot. They were taken in as guests by people and they ate with families. They got to know the people they lived with. Whatever miracle Jesus performed in a particular place probably occurred after they spent a week or two with the people. Wine for a wedding, healing a little girl, taming the crazy man, restoring eyesight, catching a boatload of fish, calling Lazarus out of the tomb. These weren’t done after flying to Cana from Chicago for a few days. They were done in the intimate context of close, understanding relationships.
And you can perform miracles too. Jesus told us that. What I have seen here at St. James is that you are doing it. You know the people. You have important relationships. It is not “us and them.” It is only “us.” And it is from this context that you will perform miracles. First helping with physical needs, then with spiritual needs, and finally with political needs.
Performing miracles is not a “poof” process. It is slow, steady work. Put one foot in front of the other. I am just a cheerleader on the sidelines encouraging you. I’m here to tell you that you’re doing the right things. Keep doing it.
"Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’ When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him." (Luke 5:1-11)
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