FIRST UNITED METHODIST CHURCH OF SANTA MONICA
Jesus: What’s In It For Me?
Sermon preached by the Reverend Patricia Farris
February 1, 2004
Scripture: I Corinthians 15: 1-11 and Luke 5:1-11
On each of these Sundays after Epiphany, we’re using the lens of the Scripture stories about Jesus to get at some of the questions that are out there about who he really was and is. “What’s so special about Jesus?” the world continues to ask. What’s so special? We start with his words and his deeds. The Scriptures recall to us the signs and the teachings and the wonders he performed in his earthly ministry, all designed, point us to the Kingdom of God.
A good deal of the recent media attention focused on Jesus and questions about his life and his work; but as we see in today’s Scripture, Jesus himself had a way of always turning the focus back on us instead. We approach him with our questions, our doubts, our faithlessness, and he, in turn, embraces us with compassion and empowers us with the Holy Spirit. For finally, you see, the question must become not “Who was Jesus?” but rather: Who are we, because of him?
The “we” of today’s familiar story in Luke starts with a couple of fishermen who, like so many fishermen we know and love, spend hours and hours trying to catch something only to come home empty handed. These are pretty typical guys, except that fishing was their livelihood, not their hobby. They fished with nets and the fish weren’t having anything to do with them that night.
Then, along came Jesus. Remember, he wasn’t even a fisherman. He was a carpenter’s son who had become a great teacher. The first thing Luke wants us to know about Jesus is just this: he was a teacher and people came to hear him and learn from him because they sensed that what they were learning was the true word of God. But Luke wants us to see more. He wants us to see that this true word of God will teach us things we aren’t at all prepared to learn and will take us places we never thought we’d go and will mix us up with people in ways we could never have imagined and will show us parts of ourselves we never knew were there.
You probably remember the action part of this story. Those tired fishermen had fished all night and come back in with empty nets. Jesus takes them back out to the deep waters and at his command, they let down their nets and when they go to pull them in, they can hardly manage because now the nets are teeming with fish.
I want to focus this morning on what happens next. Do they boast? Do they rejoice? Not right away! Simon Peter for one is struck down with an overwhelming sense of humility, a sense of his unworthiness. As Eugene Peterson translates it, he says to Jesus: “Leave, master. I am a sinner. I can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.”
It is at this point in the story that we learn something about Jesus even more important than his being a great teacher. He was full of compassion and it is that compassion that empowers his disciples to become much more than they ever would have imagined. “I’m going to make you into those who throw out your nets and bring in people. There’s no reason to be afraid. There’s no reason to be afraid.”
I think most of us are a lot like Simon Peter. It’s not so much that we don’t believe Jesus can bring in tons of fish if he wants to, or even huge crowds of people. It’s not that we don’t think Jesus can do whatever he chooses. It’s that in our heart of hearts, we don’t believe we are worthy of sharing in that love and power. We don’t really believe that we could possibly be someone in whom Jesus would put his confidence and trust. We know ourselves too well, the ways we mess up, fall short. We know the ways we’re lacking in faith. We know, and we suspect God knows, and like Peter we say: “Leave me, Jesus. I am a sinner. I can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.”
To us, Jesus says this morning: don’t be afraid. Don’t be afraid of who you are. Don’t be afraid of who you’re not. Don’t be afraid of what you’ve done or what you haven’t done. Just lean on me, take my hand, learn from what I say and do and my love will lift you up and overflow to everyone you meet. Don’t ever be afraid.
Jesus performed signs and wonders, to be sure. But the real miracle in this story, you see, is not that those boats were swamped with fish, but that the sinner, Simon Peter, was transformed by the love of God in Christ Jesus. And if Simon Peter was transformed by the love of God in Christ Jesus, then you and I are also.
We sang a beautiful hymn last Sunday that Greg chose to go with his sermon. It was new to me and it’s become one of my favorites: #340 “Come, Ye Sinners, Poor and Needy.” It’s words fit well today, too. “Come, ye sinners, poor and needy, weak and wounded, sick and sore; Jesus ready stands to save you, full of pity, love and power…Come ye weary, heavy laden, lost and ruined by the fall; if you tarry till you’re better, you will never come at all. I will arise and go to Jesus; he will embrace me with his arms; in the arms my dear Savior, O there are ten thousand charms.”
“If you tarry till you’re better, you will never come at all.” That line is for all the Simon Peters of this world and the Simon Peter in all of us. Come on, Jesus says. I know you’re a sinner. Just come on along and don’t be afraid. I will give you all the love you need, all the power you’ll ever need, to be my disciple and that love flowing through you will bring countless others into this fellowship.
This morning we come to the Lord’s Table to share in the holy meal he gave us. He meant for us to come, whoever we are, however we find ourselves this morning, grieving the ways we fall short of his love and yet eager to be restored by his love. It’s not that we’re supposed to be perfect before we can come. Boy, if that were the case, there would be maybe only one or two folks up here this morning and one of them would not be me.
Oh, no. No one is truly worthy of the holiness of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Like Simon Peter, we humble ourselves and we come into his presence knowing our need of grace. We come forward, presenting ourselves before God, to receive the forgiveness, the love, the reassurance, the healing, the power we so deeply need.
Back there on the shores of Lake Gennesaret, Jesus, the great teacher, was not enrolling students in his classes. He was calling disciples. He still is. A disciple is one who follows after. St. Paul said that we are to be “imitators of Christ.” We are to be like him, growing into his likeness, seeking to live as he lived, to love as he loved.
Jesus showed those fishermen that there was more potential out in the deep waters of that lake than they believed possible. And likewise, Christ sees great depth in your life, great potential in your faithfulness. Christ sees in you more than even you dream possible. So don’t be afraid, dear sisters and brothers. Don’t be afraid. Listen to him. Learn from him. Follow him. Be his disciple. For everyone who shares in his power will, like him, dare to attempt the impossible—and sometimes, God willing, achieve it. Amen.