We continue through this season of Epiphany, looking and finding manifestations, appearances of God. In this season, the light of the star of Bethlehem shines its bright, bright light onto this whole world. It shines on us, and in us. And its light reveals God in places we might not have seen.

In the scripture stories of this season, the light of the world shines, and God is revealed to us in many ways-in Christ Jesus, in the transformed lives of those who seek and find him, in the community which begins to form around this new messiah. The light shines because God wants us to look and see the new thing that he is doing in our midst.

Today, God invites us to go deep and find new life calling to us through the Christ. For even in those deep, deep waters, the light of God will shine.

Simon Peter and the other fishermen with him, James and John, are exhausted. They have fished all night and come up empty. It is morning now, and Jesus has been teaching. The morning light reveals that their nets are empty. "Put down again," says Jesus, "into the deep water." And when their effort meets with astonishing success, Jesus presses his point: "Do not be afraid, for from now on, you will be catching people." And they are so changed by this revelation that they bring their boats to shore and leave everything to follow him.

The light had shined way down into the deepest waters of the sea and into the deepest recesses of their hearts and minds, and their lives would never be the same.

When Jesus says to them, "Don't be afraid . . . from now on you will be catching people," his words literally translated mean: you will be bringing people out of death into life. You will rescue them from death. You will capture them alive.

This sums up the Good News God sent his son to deliver. This is the ministry to which Jesus the Messiah calls each of us. This is our vocation in Christ Jesus. He catches us alive, brings us from death to life, and then, as we follow him, empowers us to do the same for everyone we meet. From death to life. This is the astonishing, baseline command of Christian discipleship.

"Follow me, become like me," says Jesus, "and you will be engaged in God's work of bringing people from death to life."

If you stop and think about it, when God's light shines on our lives, much of what we do as we go through this life could be seen as a fulfillment of this command. Surely those of you in the health professions--social work, medicine, counseling-know the experience of calling people from death to life. Those of you who teach know the joy and the miracle of calling your students into new life through the knowledge and wisdom they acquire. Parents experience this miracle in the birth and growth of children. Adult children experience it in accompanying aging parents through old age and death. When we think about it, everything that we do in this life in our families and relationships, in our work and volunteer involvements, everything can be seen as midwifing God's children from death to life when seen in the light of the call of Jesus on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.

But you know, when we just stay on the surface of things, we'll miss all this, won't we? Life can seem monotonous, tedious, uneventful. Relationships can grow tired and stale. Habit and routine can replace love and joy. It's possible to go through life just putting in time, half brain-dead, living as if we're serving a sentence rather than embracing the greatest of miracles.

To us Jesus says: "Put down your nets into the deep waters. Go deep, and there you will find new life, life abundant."

You know, to Simon Peter, a professional fisherman, Jesus' words would have sounded ridiculous. Jesus was a carpenter's son who surely didn't know much about fishing. Peter knew his trade-and that you don't catch fish in the morning from way down deep. He might easily have brushed Jesus off: don't tell me how to do my job; don't tell me to try something different; don't tell me to just try harder. Nothing's going to work.

Haven't we all been there? Those times when we've given up. When resignation has taken over. When cynicism has the upper hand. When we're just too tired to think that anything new could happen-in our lives, with our kids, in our marriage, at our job, at our school, in this awful world. Leave me alone, Jesus. I know what works here and believe you me, nothing does.

Jesus goes gentle on Simon Peter that day. He doesn't berate him or embarrass him in front of the guys. He just shines the light on him and calls him to go deep: to trust, to dare, to risk. And when Peter does, the catch is super-abundant. When he sees it, Peter confesses the shallowness of his faith. "I am a sinful man," he says, "because I didn't believe you."

"It's OK," says Jesus, lovingly, "you've just seen what it means to move from death to life. Come with me now and we'll invite others to do the same. All you have to do is go deep."

There's an ancient Greek legend that when the gods made humans, they argued about where to put the answers to life's questions so that the humans would have to search hard for them. One god said, "Let's put the answers on top of a mountain. They'll never look there." "No," the others said, "they'll find them right away." Another said: "Let's put them in the center of the earth. They'll never look there." The others said, "No, they'll find them right away." "At the bottom of the sea," another suggested. "Too easy." The gods were silent for awhile until one spoke: "We can put the answers to life within them. They will never look for them there." So that's what they did.

"Go deep," says Jesus, "the Kingdom of God is within you. Cast your nets into the deep waters." He's reaching past our failures and our hurts. Shining light on our unbelief and despair. He's lifting our sagging spirits and binding up our broken hearts. He's reminding us that God has already put the light deep within each of us. He's calling us from death to life, eager to catch us in his net of grace and love.

Dear friends, carpenters, fishermen, lookers-on, seekers-of-life: as we receive the sacrament this day, may we find in the prayers and the bread and the cup the invitation to go deep within, and there find anew the light of Christ. May we be restored to life abundant and caught up in his net, there so loved and cherished that we will be set free to call others into the same joy and light that we have found.

© Patricia E. Farris, 2001. Permission is given for brief quotation with attribution. All other rights reserved.