Hespeler, February 9, 2025 © Scott McAndless – Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany
Isaiah 6:1-13, Psalm 138, 1 Corinthians 15:1-11, Luke 5:1-11
There I was, minding my own business. It was early in the morning and my partners and I had been out on the lake all night. We had worked our fingers to the bone casting and pulling in our nets just like we had been doing for years. Just like our fathers before us had also done, and their fathers, and their fathers for as long as anybody could remember.
We hadn’t caught anything on this night. Not that we necessarily minded. There was just something about being out there with our nets in our boats on the water that reminded us of good times past and stirred up many happy memories.
Time to Take Care of the Nets
And now, as the sun rose upon the horizon, we had one job left to do before turning in for the day. We pulled our boats up on the shore and we took out our nets.
And let me tell you something about our nets. We took great pride in them. These nets had been in our families for generations. But, as old as they were, they didn’t show it. We took such extraordinary care of them that, at the first sight of any sort of rip or tear, we carefully replaced and mended each cord.
Over the years, most every strand had probably been replaced at least once. But despite that, we knew that they were still the same nets. Somehow there was this indescribable essence to them that had not changed. We were bound and determined that it never would.
And so, at the end of the night we drew each net up and carefully washed each portion of it. We removed every scrap of seaweed and debris that might cause the fabric to smell, decay or discolour. It was a ritual for us, and a pleasing way to end our night of hard labour.
A Crowd Forms
At first, we barely noticed when the crowd began to form near the seashore. They were gathering around a man, an itinerant preacher who had come to town. He was telling them stories.
I’ll be honest. He was pretty good at it; he definitely held their attention. But they were mostly stories about things that didn’t concern fisher folk like us – stories of sowing seeds and farming and such. What did we care about such things? Our job is not to make things grow. We just go out to take what we need to survive.
So we were doing our best to tune him out as he went on and on. But the crowd kept on growing until there were so many people that many of them on the edges couldn’t hear him. That is when he came over to me.
An Odd Request
“Hey, friend,” he said, “would it be alright if I got in your boat and we pushed out a little bit so that the people could hear better?” I was honestly a bit surprised that this guy, who I’d heard was just a tekton, an unskilled construction labourer, was even aware of something that all fishers know – that a voice carries much better over the water than the land. He wouldn’t have learned that on his building sites.
Preaching from the Boat
I shrugged. Sure, that was something that I could do, but something in me wanted to make sure that he knew where my priorities lay in this whole situation. “Okay, I guess,” I said. “I can clean my nets just as well from the stern of my boat as on the shore.”
So we climbed in and I pushed off. Once we were a few yards from the shoreline, he nodded to me and I threw out the anchor stone and went back to my work. As he continued to speak, it was a little harder now to tune him out. He was just beside me. So, even as I continued to concentrate on my very important nets, I couldn’t help but be moved a bit as he spoke of a kingdom of God that was growing and spreading.
Deep Water
Eventually both his voice and the people had had enough. I looked over at him, expecting that he would ask me to put him ashore. But, to my surprise, he said to me, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
Now, here’s the thing. We had been out all night fishing. Sure, we hadn’t gone out in the deep water. We had remained in the shallows because we didn’t like to try anything too dangerous or unfamiliar.
Our families had been fishing in this way – in the safe shallows at night – for generations. And I couldn’t help but feel a bit resentful that this tekton, this unskilled worker in stone and wood, was presuming to teach us how to fish. Sure, our approach hadn’t us netted us any fish this night – indeed it often didn’t – but it was how we had always done things.
Tricking Myself
So I started to say so. “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing.” But, even as those words came out of my mouth, they didn’t quite seem like the rebuke that they were in my mind. Hadn’t I just admitted that our traditional approach was actually getting zero results?
And so I guess I kind of tricked myself into what I said next. “Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” Rather than arguing with him, it seemed better to just demonstrate that his approach wasn’t going to work . That is why I am almost embarrassed to tell you what happened next. No sooner did we get to the deep water and cast the nets than we began to haul them up bursting full of fish.
The Problem With Success
Now, you might think that me and my mates would have been thrilled at such an outcome. And for a few moments, perhaps we were. But then we realized the real downside of such success. Our precious nets – these family heirlooms that we had so lovingly cleaned and cared for for so long – immediately began to tear at the weight of all the fish.
Then, as we just barely managed to haul the nets back on board, we soon discovered that the bottoms of our boats were so filled with squirming and flopping fish that they began to swamp and sink.
Our most precious possessions were at risk! This was not acceptable! I had to make it stop! I turned to the man whose fault all of this was. I fell down at his knees and cried out, “Get out of here, Lord! I am a sinful man, I’m not equipped to handle this kind of success!”
Not About Fish
The story of the great catch of fish in the Gospel of Luke is not about fish. I mean, maybe that is something that is absolutely obvious to you. After all, Jesus himself says as much at the end of the story. But I really think that it is important that we understand that here today.
This story is not about something that happened by the side of the lake in the town of Capernaum. It is absolutely about us and it is about today. And who are we in this story? We are clearly Simon and his team.
Nets and Boats
And what do the nets and the boats that the fishers inherited from their ancestors in this story represent? They are the church buildings and items and traditions that we have inherited from our spiritual ancestors. We, like they, can get pretty obsessed with making sure that they are clean and well taken care of, can’t we?
So, we are the fishers. The nets and the boats, they are our church buildings and traditions, right? And what about the complaint of Simon? “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing.” Well, that is totally our complaint isn’t it? I hear Presbyterian congregations all the time complaining about how they work so hard to keep their boat floating and their nets clean.
And they absolutely do. Many seem to be wearing themselves out just trying to keep things afloat. And they also complain that they aren’t catching any fish, that new people aren’t showing up in their churches. I hear both of those things all the time.
Are There No Fish?
But here is when it all gets interesting. Our complaint is usually that there aren’t any fish out there. No one is interested in what we have to offer and so we wear ourselves out just keeping things going.
But notice that Simon at no point says that there aren’t any fish out in the Sea of Galilee. What he says is that they have been out there fishing in the way that they have always done it, and they caught nothing. And I think that is usually what we are really saying as well.
Why Aren’t We Catching Fish?
Can you hear Jesus challenging us therefore? Could it be that the reason why we aren’t catching any fish isn’t because there are no fish out there? Could it be that the way you have always done it – at particular hours and in the safe and comfortable shallows among other things – just isn’t connecting with any of those fish anymore. It is something to ponder.
The Reaction to Success
But the truly shocking thing about this story is the surprising way that Simon reacts to success. He does give in and agree to try something new and a bit different even if it is only because Jesus says so. (Sometimes I think that is what it would take to get us to try something different in some of our churches too – we’d have to hear the voice of Jesus from heaven.) And Simon and company actually see the success that has eluded them for so long. But what happens next?
Do they exult in their catch? Do they immediately start celebrating? No, all we hear is how concerned they are for their precious nets which start to tear and their boats which start to sink. And it is in the shadow of those emerging problems associated with successful fishing that Simon falls on his knees and tells Jesus to get away from them.
How We Respond to New Fish
We don’t do that, do we? We all say that our fondest desire is to have more people in our churches. I hear it all the time. But here is the problem with that. The new fish that are going to come into our churches these days are not going to come from the shallow waters. They are not going to come from the same demographic and socio-economic and ethnic pools that they came from in previous generations.
They are going to come from the deep water these days because, frankly, the shallow waters are fished out. And that is a wonderful thing. It is wonderful in so many ways to see our churches diversifying in our time. It feels like a fulfillment of God’s promises.
What About Our Nets and Boats?
But, there is an issue that arises in that. To reach and incorporate such people means change. And that often creates a reaction. Our church isn’t the same anymore. We miss the way things used to be. We complain about our buildings being noisy or dirty and how sometimes things get broken because people are actually using the facilities. Our refrain becomes, “Our nets are ripping and our boats are sinking!”
And so, like Simon, we may be tempted to send Jesus away with his fancy new ideas about how to carry out our mission. “Get away from us lord so that we can go back to puttering around in the shallow waters and keeping our nets nice and clean by never catching anything in them.”
No, this story isn’t about fishing on the Sea of Galilee. It is a story about us. But I hope you don’t hear it as a rebuke of us. It is a story of hope.
When Jesus Gets in Our Boat
Are we like the disciples of Jesus? Absolutely. We, like they, often get things wrong. But Jesus got into their boat. And the word of God was spoken from their boat – not because they had all the answers and everything figured out but because they didn’t. And when Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people, “ he said it immediately after Simon confessed that he didn’t know what he was doing.
Jesus will transform us as disciples as well. And he only asks for one thing: everything. “When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.” Notice how they immediately walked away from the only things that they showed care for throughout this whole story: their nets and their boats.
Well, once we realize that catching people with the good news of the gospel in word and in deed is more important than our nets and our boats, we will be amazed at what Jesus will do among us as well.