When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled 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!” [Luke 5:6-8].
During our recent Wednesday Bible Study sessions, my Carolina Arbors friends and I have been discussing, among other things, how the Synoptic Gospels—Matthew, Mark, and Luke—are remarkably consistent and yet, if one moves through the text slowly, with a discernible eye for the detail, there are some interesting variations.
Take, for example, the story of Jesus’ call to the disciples. Luke’s version [Luke 5:1-11] is the Gospel reading designated for this upcoming Sunday, the Fifth Sunday after the Epiphany (RCL, Year C). We see that in the versions described by Mark [1:16-20] and Matthew [4:18-22], the story is rather straightforward. Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee and calls to Simon and Andrew and then to James and John to follow him. They put down their fishing gear and do so.
To be sure, in both Mark and Matthew the “call” story is preceded by a summary of Jesus’ teaching regarding the imminent arrival of Yahweh’s reign, but neither Mark nor Matthew draw a true connection between that eschatological summary and the disciples’ response. The men appear to respond favorably simply based upon the authority of Jesus’ call to them.
Luke’s version is different. In this week’s reading, it seems that the men respond to Jesus favorably not just because of His apparent authority, but because they have heard Jesus teach and, quite importantly, they have seen Him perform a true miracle—where their night of fishing had produced nothing but empty nets and boats, in the daylight hours, when they follow the advice of the one who appears to know so little about fishing, their nets strain and their two boats fill with fish. Indeed, the reason that Jesus was able to put a little distance between the crowd standing on the shore and himself was that fact that Peter’s boat—before the miracle—was not burdened by any catch of fish [Luke 5:3].
It is Simon Peter’s response to the miracle—i.e., the Grace provided by Jesus Christ—that so fascinates me. He’d heard Jesus preaching and teaching. He’d seen the utter impossibility of pulling fish upon fish from the sea where earlier there had been nothing but barrenness. Some of us might expect Peter to respond quickly, “My Lord, I’ve heard your words and seen your mighty actions and I want to follow you to the ends of the earth.”
Instead, we hear Peter say, “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!” [5:8b].
Often we are taught—almost every evening I see a TV commercial offered by Franklin Graham that makes this very point—that we must come to see ourselves as sinners so that then, we can come to desire the Grace that is available from Christ as our Lord and Savior. I suppose that Graham’s versions, popular as it is in today’s churches, has some validity. But it isn’t what happened with Peter, one of the first disciples.
Can we see that Peter only saw himself as a sinner after he had experienced the Grace that was provided to him by the Messiah? It was only after he had witnessed the miracle, after he saw the nets and the two boats bulging with fish, that he fell to his knees and confessed his sinful nature to his Lord.
Moreover, it was at this moment, the moment when Peter had named his unworthiness, had uttered his need to be removed from the spot upon which Jesus was standing, that Jesus turned to him and called him to be a disciple—calling upon him to change his vocation from catcher of fish to catcher of men and women. This last point has important implications for each of our calls to serve our Lord within His church.
I remember a conversation I had a number of years ago with a good friend at a former church. A practical man, having a degree in business from the light blue university in Orange County, he said to me one evening, “I deal with finances every working day of my life” (he was a V.P. at Central Carolina Bank by that point in his life).
My friend continued, “And so, the preacher and the various committees of the church always have a spot for me within the church hierarchy. They want me to lead and chair the Finance Committee. I’m willing to do it because, hey, what are folks like me, with my background, good at doing? But Tom, I long instead for a church that doesn’t need my ability to run spreadsheets, that instead offers me some sort of service that stretches my horizons, that might allow me to grow within the scriptures and the narratives of the church. Is there room for me in a church that exists beyond my green visor?” (some of you younger folks may not quite understand his reference).
I wish I had sufficient clarity at that moment in time to tell him that while the church doesn’t always have room for us to stretch beyond our exhibited gifts and graces, our Lord surely does. Jesus didn’t call Peter—and Andrew, James, John, and the others—because He thought they would be any better, on their own, at catching people than they were on that lonely night when they’d caught no fish at all. Jesus called them to catch people because of what He knew they could do through Him.
Folks, here’s the scary, but exhilarating, Gospel (i.e., Good News): At the very moment in which we recognize that we have little or nothing to offer to Christ, that may be the very moment that Christ tells us to put away our spreadsheets and our other concerns, and to take up our cross, for He has some exciting work awaiting us in His kingdom. The fruit from the labor doesn’t depend upon us; it is assured in Him. Hallelujah!
Thank you, Tom. Sometimes I wonder why I’m still walking this earth. I’ll have such a wonderful, peaceful life and I wonder what contribution I could possibly be making at this time in my life. My children are busy with their jobs and families And don’t seem to need me for much. Another blessing from the Lord. I try to be an ambassador for Christ in my family and my community and that’s about all I can do it I guess. You and Jane stay well.
I can think of no one who is a stronger ambassador for Christ than you. I remember that our friend, Rick, on so many occasions told me how much he appreciated your kindness, your notes, your prayers, and your quiet witness. Long ago, you answered His call to you. The world is so much better because of your presence in it. Peace, dear friend.