"Try, Try Again"
February 4, 2007: 4th Sunday After Epiphany, Year C
The Rev. John MacIver Gage, senior minister
United Church on the Green, UCC: New Haven, CT
www.unitedchurchonthegreen.org

Scripture:
Luke 5:1-11
Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets." 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!" For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people." When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

Sermon:
It had been another long, fruitless night of fishing and catching nothing. Over and over again, Simon Peter and Andrew, James and John, had cast their nets into the lake, then carefully maneuvered the boats to draw them closed, but over and over again... nothing. Hour after slow, agonizing hour the night just barely crawled by. Their arms, shoulders, and backs burned with the strain of each empty repetition, while their doubts and fears rushed to fill the gap. If this poor catch kept up, there soon would be no money to pay their workers, their investors, their taxes, and no fish even to fill their bellies. One more grim dawn greeted them grey and limping back to shore, too light in the water and too heavy of heart... again. If something didn't change soon.... But nothing. The creaking of the boat and their bones—Nothing ever changed.

Which may explain why Simon Peter and his partners accepted the strange offer from the strange man who hallo-ed them from shore. Something to break the monotony, at least. He appeared to be a teacher, a preacher of some sort. A sizeable crowd had gathered along the lake to listen to what he had to say; so many, in fact, they reminded Simon of sardines, quicksilver wriggling and writhing in the net, each little mouth opening and closing a perfect o of anxiety, gasping for breath. Just so the crowd jostled one another along the water's edge. They were almost climbing over one another, straining to hear what this man had to say. Simon wondered what did he have to say that could inspire so many bruised ribs, stubbed toes and wet ankles?

Could he borrow the boat? What? Could he climb in the boat and would Simon then row them out a little ways so he could better preach to the crowd? That is, if he wasn't too busy...? Simon resisted the urge to laugh out loud. He felt a little light-headed after the long night, but sure, I mean, it's not like he needed to rush his empty nets to shore, or his catch to market. The market was full up of empty already. Simon chuckled to himself. Why not? With a jerk of his head, he motioned his brother Andew back to the oars. In response to his puzzled looks Simon simply shrugged. What the heck? They pulled the stern landward once more, and Simon stretched out his hand to help haul their unexpected passenger aboard. And the hand that grasped his own was unexpected, too: not the smooth hand of a teacher, but rough and calloused as his own, no stranger to a hard day's work.

An air of unreality settled over the boat. Jesus—that was his name, Jesus—sat in the stern and spoke to the crowd. His words carried clear across the water like a bell. They lapped up along the shore and washed over the crowd, who began to settle noticeably under their gentle caresses. They eyes whirled less wildly now. They sat, still, and listened. Simon and Andrew leaned in across their oars, closed their eyes and listened, too. As Jesus spoke, they could feel the morning sun begin to bake the ache from their bones. What a delicious idyll, a moment apart. Gradually the evening's shadows slipped from their minds almost entirely, replaced by a dream... a dream of wind and salt and fish, a dream of enough. It was a good dream, so when Jesus spoke again, to them, and they opened their eyes to see his face haloed gold against the sun, Simon and Andrew could be forgiven for thinking, just for a moment, that it was God's Own Self bending over them. Put out again into the deep water, friends, and let down your nets for a real catch.

Like that, the spell was broken, just like that. Simon snapped back to himself, Who does he think he is? A morning's diversion, a lovely distraction from the real world and the work at hand, that's all well and good. But who does he think he is, this, this teacher, to tell me my business? Not that it's any business of his, but can't he see our nets heaped wet and empty in the bilge of the boat? Simon could feel the heat rising red in his weathered face. Now wait just a minute! Back out into the deep, the disappointing water? We've been there, Jesus, we've done that, we've covered every angle, every square inch, and we've come up empty, again and again. Don't you get it? We're empty...! Now, forgive me, but one shining moment, a lark, a fling, is one thing. Our lives are quite another.

As though from outside himself, Simon watched as the shame and fear literally lifted him to his feet. In slow motion, he saw the boat rock and the black water rush up to meet him. I die falling out of my own boat, he thought to himself.I'll never live this down. Oh, well.... And just as the waves were about to swallow him up, and almost welcome, as well, the shock of contact brought him back. The shock of a hand grasping his—that rough carpenter's hand, bearing the scars of nail and rasp and awl. That hand, hauling him back aboard, and holding him fast. Simon collapse into the bottom of the boat, spitting and gasping like a carp. When he could open his eyes again, he was not surprised to see Jesus bending over him again, shining again, all golden light. Despite himself, he cursed under his breath. Alright then, I suppose we can give it one more try...

Simon Peter signaled James and John to join them once more on the water. Together they slipped through the waves back out to the deep water. It was the wrong time, the wrong place, the wrong way to catch anything, he knew that. But what did he really have to lose? As they lowered the nets again, Simon caught himself thinking, The Lord watches over fool and madmen, they say. I wonder which I am today? Is it not madness to do the same thing over again and expect a different outcome?

But Simon didn't have long to wonder, for hardly had the nets sunk beneath the murky surface when the boat was rocked over nearly to the gunwales. The water alongside appeared to boil as fish literally leapt into their nets. Big fish, little fish, red fish, blue fish, sardines and biny and musht, small fry and big old bottom-dwellers alike, even some strange scaly things even Simon Peter couldn't identify—they crammed the nets near to bursting. Simon couldn't contain himself. He gave a short, sharp bark of a laugh, then shouted to Andrew and the brothers to grab the ropes, boys, and put your backs into it and pull, pulll! And pull they did. Those worn-out, worn-down men, who just a short time ago had been riding on empty, they wrapped their hands in the nets and, grinning like idiots, they hauled them squirming and dripping aboard once more. The little boats groaned under the happy burden, and Simon laughed again to find water coming over the side and up around his ankles. He found himself thinking, It's almost like walking on water...

Just then Simon looked up and looked right into the face of his unexpected passenger, his teacher, his... Lord. It was as though the sun suddenly reappeared from behind a cloud, and, in that moment, Simon knew and was dazzled. His breath left him all in a rush and he fell at Jesus. feet, lying there among the other gasping fish. Those eyes! Under that gaze, Simon felt as though he would melt, like ice, like dross in the refiner.s fire. In that presence, strong and good, he was aware of every thing he had ever done wrong, all the ways he had ever missed the marked and fallen so far short. And not only that, but everything anyone had ever told him he had done wrong, all the ways he was wrong, all the shame, all the fear. Get away from me, Lord, for I am such a sinful man. Go away, Lord, for I am not worthy... One dark wave after another rolled over him, dragging him down and drowning deep.

But again, a touch and a word and finally, after the long night, after all the long nights, after all his trials, something changed for Simon. Everything changed. Do not be afraid, Simon. Do not be afraid of me. Do not be afraid of anything or anyone every again, even yourself. For I have come to teach you, to comfort you, to challenge you, to hold you, to save you. I know you have stumbled, more than you know and less than you fear. But I have come so that you may try again... and again... and again. I have come to give you a new life, because if you walk in my way, no longer will you simply be working for a living, but you will be working for life, the life that really is life. You will be my fisherman, my first, and you will be catching people in love, just as I have caught you today.

And when Simon and Andrew, James and John had brought their boats to shore once more, they left everything they had or had ever known, home and toil and kindred, and followed him. And everything changed. Everything.