Rev. George
Miller
Jan 24, 2021
Luke 5:1-7
Today is a familiar story- Jesus
on the shore, calling the first set of disciples.
Today’s tale ties right in
with virtually every Old Testament and Advent reading we’ve shared.
Like that of Elijah and the widow,
it’s about a person with nothing, meeting a prophet who is offering everything.
Today’s story, like that of Elizabeth,
Hannah, Rachel and Sarah, is an empty womb story.
Instead of a belly, it’s an
empty net.
This Simon Peter is a man of
the sea. He’s worked all night without a
bite. He’s done for the day, given up
hope, washing his empty net, no fish to sell.
Like the widow, no food to
feed the family. Like Elijah, along
comes Jesus.
Instead of asking for a morsel
of bread, he asks Simon Peter to cast his nets.
As a result, the nets become
full, swollen with life, so much life that two boats are filled.
Once again, a story about God
entering into a time of nothing and bringing about abundance.
Once again, a story about
how that which seemed empty becomes full.
Elizabeth, Hannah, Rachel,
and Sarah had an empty womb; Simon Peter had an empty boat.
The widow of Zarapeth
listens to Elijah and her jar of oil never runs out; Simon Peter listens to
Jesus and his nets nearly break apart.
There’s something else about
our story that speaks to our current situation- God takes that which is ordinary
and turns it into a vessel of Good News.
Think about it- today we see
Jesus do something brand new. Up to this
point, Jesus was worshiping at the synagogue, teaching and preaching on the
Sabbath, going to where the worshippers are.
But today, it’s not the
Sabbath, and it’s not the synagogue.
It’s a beach with sand, not
pews. It’s outside, not inside 4 walls.
And it’s a boat, a boat that
Jesus uses to share the Good News; a simple, every-day boat that belongs to an
everyday man.
This is not The Love Boat. It’s
not the yacht Goldie Hawn sunbathed on in “Overboard.” This is not a ship you
see docked outside in Sarasota.
This is an stinky, smelly
fishing boat that belonged to a stinky, smelly man.
Anyone who’s ever fished with
men can attest that there is nothing classy or holy about a fishing boat.
It’s sun bleached, barnacled,
with bird poop stains, permanent fish gut smell, heard its’ share of blue humor,
boasts and burps, had men urinate off the side and throw food scraps into the
water.
A fishing boat is the
furthest thing from the ritual purity and hallowed holiness of a synagogue.
And that’s what Jesus
uses to preach the Good News, to produce abundance, and to build the worship community.
A barnacled, sun-bleached, boat. On a non-Sabbath. Free of walls and posted worship times.
How similar to what we’ve experienced
since Spring.
Because of COVID, churches are
finding new ways to bring the Good News to people.
Because of COVID, we’ve finding
shores, boats, and other means to cast out and to be The Good News.
Just as Jesus was ministering
outside of the Sabbath, going beyond walls, and using the every-day, Jesus is doing
the same thing in 2021.
Instead of a boat and a net,
it’s our cellphones and the internet.
Think about it- 9 months ago
we used our cell phones to gossip, shop, and take selfies.
Now we’re using cell phones
to film worship, to transmit live services, to share a message with people who
are standing on the virtual shores.
Who could have imagined a
year ago that this “thing” would become the most essential tool outside of the
Bible that we would use to share the Gospel?
Yes, that’s how God works, isn’t
it?
If God can take an empty
womb and make it full, God take can take an empty net and fill it to breaking.
If God can use a burning
bush, a giant fish, a manger, then God can use a barnacled boat or a cell phone.
Once again, we see God
taking that which seems empty and turning it into soul affirming joy.
We see God taking that which
seems ordinary and turns it into extraordinary.
We see God working outside
of Sabbaths and Sundays, outside of walls, outside of set times and schedules.
Yes…we are still in a period
of mourning. Yes, we as a nation, as a
people, as a church, have lost a lot.
Yes, we miss you every
single Sunday. We feel your spirit, but
we miss your presence, your voice, your touch.
We grieve for what we are
without, and how empty the sanctuary is without you.
At the same time, we give
thanks for the ways that Jesus is on the shore, finding ways to still teach,
finding new ways to still cast Heaven’s Net.
We give thanks for the
Kathryn Ferguson’s who are able to worship with us even though they are far away.
We give thanks for the Joy
Vera’s who have never set foot in our sanctuary but feel called to give to The
Shepherd’s Pantry.
We give thanks for those who
are at home, comfortable in their pajamas, sipping their coffee, maybe even
doing their nails while being spiritually filled.
We give thanks that a technology
we took for granted has now become its own boat in which we can cast out a net
that goes beyond walls, time zones, state lines, and days of the week.
We also give thanks, in
advance, that one day, ONE DAY, we will return.
ONE DAY we will return to
our beautiful sanctuary, we will return to hymn sings and hugs, we will return
to walls that keep us secure and sounds and smells that fill our spirit.
We also give thanks that when
we return, we will continue to use the boats, the nets to continue discovering
ways to share the Good News, to be The Good News, and to give thanks for the
Good News.
And for that, let us all say
“Amen!”
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