Deep Water
By Rev. Karin Case
February 07, 2010
Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
Lessons: Luke 5: 1-11
A Homily for the Ordination of Deacons and Communion Sunday
Today Luke tells us a fish story. There are a lot of fish stories in the gospels. A lot of fish, fishermen, sheep and shepherds. It’s probably a good thing that the gospels were written in a time when folks earned their livelihood from land and sea. I’m not sure I could handle parables and miracle-stories featuring computer chips and programmers. No offense intended.
Anyway. Today we have a fish story that is also a miracle story. The obvious miracle in Luke’s story is the enormous catch of fish. Simon, James and John have been fishing all night and have come up empty. Jesus arrives on the scene and somehow—through intuition or power to command nature—he knows how to catch a boatload of fish!
Jesus tells Simon, “Put out into deep water, Simon.” Leave the shallow waters you know. Leave the routines you rely on. Let go of your comfortable clinging to the shore. Put out into deep water. Take a risk and see. Jesus knows that Simon and James and John are self-reliant men; that fishing is in their DNA; that they have a boatload of practical wisdom and experience. He also knows they’ve been playing it safe—staying close to the shore. And he asks Simon to do something impractical, to take a risk.
And here, I suspect, is where the real miracle occurs. Simon listens to Jesus. He puts out into deep water—sets out way beyond the depth he’s accustomed to and comfortable with. And it changes him forever. Luke tells us that discipleship is more than relying on our own expertise; more than commitment to service, worship, prayer, and study. What makes Simon into a fisher-of-people? What makes for nets full to bursting? What causes Simon to fall on his knees before Jesus? Simon is willing to steer into deep waters, to take the risk. And in so doing, he discovers God’s astonishing abundance.
It’s in taking that risk—steering away from the safety of the shoreline, familiar shoals and well-known moorings that makes Simon into something new. Simon is transformed when he listens to Jesus’ command. He becomes more than a good fisherman. Simon is transformed from a man who relies on his own instincts and expertise into someone who relies on God’s abundance and grace.
The daring or foolishness or faithfulness or chutzpah of setting out into deep waters when you know perfectly well how to catch a fish—is what discipleship is. Maybe it’s that very quality of being willing to risk, willing to let go of the security of the shoreline, that opens us to God’s spirit. Jesus tells us that deep water is a generative place. If it feels fraught with risk, it’s also a place where we can grow. Here we can discover the full net of God’s grace.
Years ago I spent a summer in Jerusalem. My friend and I took a trip to the seaside town of Netanya, outside Tel Aviv, where we swam in the Mediterranean. The water was warm, salty, and a beautiful blue-green. I remember distinctly floating on my back, looking up at the sky and feeling completely, completely supported. It was like being held in the lap of God. But how do we float like that when the waters are dark or murky or stormy?
A couple of weeks ago we welcomed new members to the church. Last week at Annual Meeting we elected new committee members. Today, we ordain and install deacons. I am reminded that discipleship and spiritual leadership require us to step out. They require us to trust that what we have to offer and what God brings to the table are sufficient. And that discipleship is not about relying on our own proven competencies, but on God’s grace.
We also rely on each other—a community of support. Did you notice what Simon does when his nets come up full to bursting? Do you remember what Luke says? Simon calls for backup from the other fishermen. He pulls his boat alongside theirs and asks for help. He needs help managing the giant haul of fish. It is too much for him alone. He needs help with the load. And what’s more—good news—he has abundant fish to share!
We made promises today. The deacons promised to care for you and pray for your well-being; to respond to the challenge of the gospel, imitate the compassion of Jesus, and trust God to uphold them and be merciful to them. I confess I’m afraid to say these things too loudly or often, lest we scare them off before they even begin. Fortunately, part of their promise is to rely on God’s help.
All of us made promises as well—to receive and respect their ministry, to uphold and enfold them with our prayer and gratitude. This is a way of life that’s not limited to the promises we make to the deacons, but relevant to every aspect of our common life in this covenant community.
The deacons and the leadership and each and every one of us need to know that when we’re in uncharted waters, when we’ve got too much to bear, or something wonderful to share, we can pull our boat up alongside each other and ask for help. So whether it’s trying on something new—like praying out loud; or taking on the responsibility of caring for one another; or making challenging decisions about the life of the church, the deacons will need your prayers and your gratitude. They need to be able to see your boat, just off to the side, bobbing along, ready to haul in the catch.
Today, I pray that these deacons will grow in wisdom, in patience, in love, in faith. I pray that we will all grow in compassion, in our ability to be present to one another. And we that in all we do, we will treat each other with kindness, respect, even tenderness. Let us all pray that when we are out in deep water and our nets are full to the point of bursting, there will be friends and fellow disciples who are willing to pull their boats up alongside us and share the load, share the catch, share the sheer abundance of God’s gifts. Amen!