Going Fishing A sermon preached by Rev. Deana Dudley at Christos MCC and Holy Fellowship MCC 8 February 2004 Scripture:  Luke 5:1-11

I think y’all have heard me talk about my Grandmother from time to time. My Grandma Bessie was a wonderful person. When I was little, I thought she could do anything. She was the most hardworking person I ever knew. And mind you, my memories of her begin when I was a toddler and she was about sixty-something, a time when most folks are beginning to think about retirement

But I can’t say Grandma Bessie ever really retired, exactly. That picture of her in a rocking chair is a pretty rare one. I’m sure by the time the shutter snapped again, she was up and about, working on something. But in her later years, she did manage to find a little more time for an activity she loved. Fishing. She was good at fishing. She knew where to find the fish, and when, and what kind of bait to use. And one of my earliest and fondest memories is of her taking me fishing. Unfortunately, what Grandma knew was the fish get up early. And I think my feelings about mornings are well known. What you may not know, is that I also REALLY don’t like fish. Can’t stand the smell or the taste. Won’t eat ‘em. But I do love my Grandma, so we got up early one morning, before the sun was up, and went fishing. So there we are, out in the dark, and she’s trying to teach me how to put a worm on a hook, on an empty stomach.

I gotta tell you, the worm wasn’t all that cute and eager and perky and pink, so under the circumstances, it’s probably just as well that my tummy was empty.  To this day, after a good rain, when all the worms come out..... well, I still have a bad reaction to worms.  My hardworking grandmother, by the way, raised her own worms in a big old washtub in her garden.

And it’s important to know WHERE to look for the fish. My uncle Bill -- a true son of my grandmother -- has this great fishing cap. It says, "Here Fishy, Fishy" on it.  One thing I’ve learned about fishing, though, is that fish don’t come when they’re called. They’re kind of like my dog, that way. You have to go out and get them.

And you have to know where to look. And Grandma did. Mind you, through vast experience of years and years of fishing, by the time I went fishing with her, she had pretty much decided that the best place to fish was my Great Uncle Doc’s pond, because he stocked it with catfish. Here’s Grandma, out at Uncle Doc’s pond. She and I have caught a lot of fish there. At the right time. In the right place.

Which brings us to today’s gospel lesson, in case you were wondering if I were ever going to get around to it. To this little encounter between Jesus and his disciples, who were fishing, and not catching anything. They were pretty discouraged. These were fishermen -- not recreational fishermen, but workers whose families went hungry if there was no catch. It was a very bad day for them. They’d fished all night and caught nothing. Now, after a night of failure, they were exhausted and discouraged, and washing their nets so they'd be ready for the next night's work. Suddenly Jesus up to Peter and says, "Put out into the DEEP water," he tells him, "and let your nets down for a catch."

Now, this was a bit audacious for Jesus, a landsman, to tell a professional fisherman how to do his business. Very audacious - and Peter answers by explaining the facts of life to Jesus. "It won't do any good," he says, "We’ve worked all night - and caught nothing. There’s no point to it." In other words -- "We tried that before. It didn’t work." The last thing you want to hear when you’re in this position is "try harder." Peter and the others, James and John - they weren’t stupid people. They knew the lake, they knew the weather, they knew where the fish hung out. They’d been working that lake for years. They knew the time to fish - and where to fish - and they’d gone fishing - at the right time - and at the right place - and they’d come up empty.

"Try over there", Jesus says. "over there in the deep water." "Jesus, we’ve worked all night long," Simon Peter says, "we’ve done everything we should’ve done, everything we knew how to do, and we’ve caught nothing... but if you say so - I’ll try one more time."

And you know the rest of the story – they threw the nets out and caught such a great whacking pile of fish that the nets began to break. It was an amazing catch. A catch at a time of day when there should have been no catch. A catch where there should have been no catch. A catch made out in the deep water.

That’s the thing I want us to focus on today, to remember what Simon Peter first said to Jesus: "Jesus, we’ve worked hard all night long, and we haven’t caught anything." What he said to Jesus in effect was: "I know my business, you landlubber. I know how it’s done -- We tried that before -- so what's the point?"

You know, I expect he DID know his business. And when we say, "We tried this before," or "We always did it THAT way," we generally know what we’re talking about, too. Like Peter, we do know our business. But, maybe, sometimes we know it too well. We’re so sure that we’re not talented enough to do what others ask of us, or we know that our friend is too busy to ask for a favor or we know that our neighbor doesn’t care to help. We KNOW these things about ourselves and about others - and what happens? We believe that what’s being asked of us -- be it as individuals or as part of a group – won’t pan out. And we don't want to try again - we don't want to risk one more disappointment... one more failure... one more change. We want to stay with the familiar if it kills us -- or others.

And, you know, I expect Peter was tired. So tired and discouraged. Feeling like a failure. Wondering what he was going to do next. I don’t know if any of you can ever identify with that feeling. I know I can sometimes. But I think in those tough times I need to remember that even in such hard times, God can redeem what to us seems irredeemable.

You see, I think God often comes to us – or maybe God can finally get through to us – when we are at our most down, our most broken. And the truth is, God often USES broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, crushed and broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. Remember the broken alabaster box that gave forth perfume to anoint Jesus? And that it was the broken Jesus who gave us redemption and eternal life? And it is broken families, cities, and nations who can rally and seek peace. Broken people, and broken churches that become a voice of hope and a testimony of God’s ever-present help. Don’t forget that when you find yourself in the midst of a calamity or just a great sea change. That presence is our sure foundation when our whole earth is shaken. Even when it seems like everything is falling down around us, and all is lost.

I have a confession to make. Y’all know how scared I am of snakes. Well, that’s not my biggest fear. My biggest fear is failure. It’s a fear of being not good enough. Not working hard enough at something to make it a success. I love my Grandma Bessie, but I have to tell you, she was a bit of a perfectionist. It may be genetic, eh? Her idea of the greatest compliment you could pay someone was "Well, they’re a good worker." And sometimes, when I think I’m not working hard enough at something, I’ll hear her voice in the back of my head, spurring me on. And that can be a good thing..... or not, sometimes. Sometimes, when Anne notices that I’m listening to that voice a bit much, and beginning to beat myself up a bit, she says "Back in your box, Bessie!" But still.... I have that fear of failure.... and I need to get over it.

And I know people -- who knows, there might even be some here today -- whose lives are miserable because for years they’ve refused to risk failure -- and disappointment – and change. Some of us have resources that we just don’t use, skills that we don’t develop, gifts that we don’t share... dreams we just don’t follow. All because we think we know who we are and who others are and what the situation is.... We know there just AREN’T any fish there, and we’re locked in by that knowledge, locked into how things are, how we KNOW they are.... afraid to reach out -- afraid to go beyond the familiar, because in the end we think we know how things will turn out. Like Simon Peter knew that there was no point in doing what was asked of him, no point going beyond the place where fish are normally caught. I mean, if there are no fish in the usual places, how can there be fish in the places where fish are never caught?

Put out into the deep water - and let down your nets. Well - that's all very fine Jesus - but we tried all night, and it didn't work. A preacher colleague of mine tells of one time when he was pastoring a little church, I think it was out in the Maritimes, a young woman suggested to the board of elders that they start a social club - one that could meet one Friday a month for special events like bowling, potluck dinners, games, movies, that sort of thing. And guess what the board of elders said? Come on - take a guess.

And, in fact, they were right. They HAD tried it. They’d really done their best in the past, and it really didn't work. Nobody was interested. Nobody came. But, the board said, if she wanted to try again, that was up to her, she had their blessing, but please don't be disappointed if nothing happens.

Now, that church had - on an average Sunday in those days, about 80 people in it. Forty were approaching or past retirement age, and twenty were children. Ten people showed up the first Friday night. Next time it was sixteen. Then twenty. All people between eighteen and forty. It continued that way till my colleague left a few years later. Yeah, the church grew, but mainly, they had a great time together and because of that, people’s lives were touched.

So..... Put out into the deep waters and let down your nets for a catch. What's the point? The point is this: We’re afraid of the deep water, but it’s where we’ve got to go. Sometimes we need to listen to another point of view. Sometimes we need to risk one more failure, to go and do what our common sense tells us can’t be done.

I was reminded this morning after church at Holy Fellowship the words of Mother Theresa, someone looked at her work, and thought it was a failure because she’d rescue one dying person at a time, and the next day, there’d be ten more on her doorstep.  She said, God doesn’t call us to be successful.  God calls us to be faithful.  Sometimes we just need to head out into the deep waters and let down our nets for no better reason than God asks us to do it.

The image that strikes me in today's gospel is not the fishing but the reluctance of Peter to break out of his ordinary ways of thinking and doing. I've always been attracted to Simon Peter because he's so like many of us - well me at least.  Despite that language about "catching people," I don't think the point of this message, for today at least, is that our mission is to put out bait and catch unsuspecting fish who might be curious enough to nibble, or scoop them up in a net whether they want to be scooped or not. I think the gospel – the good news – for us today is that we need to be willing to set the familiar aside and unafraid to try new waters.

Jesus Christ didn’t come simply to make each one of us into some kind of metaphorical fisherman, going out to catch souls. Christ came so that each one of us might have abundant & eternal life, a full and rich life, a life in which we know and experience and share the love of God. Our nets may come up empty for many days in a row but if we’re open to God.... if we’re willing to listen and to try the new things that God puts before us.... if we’re willing venture out to the deep water.... or if we’re simply willing, because Christ asks us, to do something new, to do a familiar task in a new way or in a new place instead of giving up on it... then our nets will be filled so abundantly that they’ll burst at the seams.

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