The Very Rev. Anothony Thurston
Today’s gospel is that wonderful story of Simon Peter fishing and catching nothing—and then, at the word of Jesus, Peter puts down the net again and pulls up a large catch of fish.
This is also the scripture from which comes Jesus words: “You’ve been fishermen, now you’ll be fishers of men,”
A normal interpretation of this scripture might be one of talking about the reaching out from our own Christian faith to others—and there is nothing wrong with that approach. But as I thought about this text, I began to ask myself a couple of questions: “why don’t we go out into the world and save souls for Jesus? Granted, it’s not the Episcopal thing to do, but why is this something that we shun and feel uncomfortable about?
I’m not talking here about standing on street corners, of finding a place to testify to our faith experiences. I’m just wondering what the reasons are behind our reluctance to speak quietly about our faith when the opportunity presents itself.
There may be a variety of answers, but I have one that I wish to suggest today: and that is the problem of inferiority. Inferiority—did he say inferiority? Does that sound strange to you? I doubt that it does, really! Most of us have feelings of inadequacy, feelings which damage the way we think of ourselves and relate to others, feelings that get in the way of sharing some of the most important values and ideas of our religious heritage.
Of course, there’s nothing wrong in and of itself in recognizing our own personal limitations. In fact, this kind of recognition may be the mark of a mature person. Part of the process of growing up is the understanding that we are mortal, that there are things we can’t do and can’t be, and that God doesn’t demand any more of us than that. But it’s not that kind of inadequacy that I’m thinking about.
The trouble with many people doesn’t lie in a failure to recognize the upward limits of their capacities. It lies rather in a tendency to live at a lower level of capacity. Few of us live up to the very best that is within us, either physically, mentally or spiritually. And I suppose there are a lot of reasons for this.
Some of us live with a sense of inertia. Others just want to get by. But the most dangerous and subtle reason is the tendency to judge ourselves and our abilities at the level of our greatest weaknesses. The moment we begin to become conscious of ourselves, we also begin to compare ourselves to others—and to begin to realize that we are different from others. Maybe we’re not as beautiful or handsome as some around us, or we don’t have the athletic or intellectual ability of someone else. And it’s this comparison that begins to bother us when we see ourselves coming off as an uncomfortable second. It’s that uncomfortable, second-best that draws energy and enthusiasm away from us.
This may happen at many other levels of our lives. When we lose a job, or realize that we’re at the top of our job and have hit the glass ceiling; or when we discovered that we’ve made a less-than-good vocational choice; or when we see that others may have more materially than we do—whatever the cause—there are dramatic effects that follow.
Some of us become painfully shy, mostly for fear of being hurt. For others there is the chip-on-the-shoulder approach to life—strike out before someone strikes at you—face life with the mood of belligerence. Both of these reactions create unhappy and lonely people.
But there would be no point of this homily if we had to leave it right here. And we don’t have to—there is something in the Christian life that can speak to us. Or there is something in Jesus’ message of casting out our nets and finding that there is more, or seeing ourselves as having the capacity to reach out to others, just like the story from Luke’s gospel for today.
So, what is this message? The religion of Jesus emphasizes a life which is other-centered rather than self-centered. As surprising as this may sound, a lot of people fail to get that message. The gospel of Jesus says that if we’re a belligerent person, we have a problem to overcome; if we’re a shrinking violet, we’re really missing something in life. The reason may just be that we’re spending way too much time thinking about ourselves. Actually we aren’t really that important, and it’s a healthy beginning in our conquest of life to realize that.
Another thing to keep in mind is to recognize that limitation in one direction of our lives is not a limitation in every direction. Many people make that discovery quite naturally, but some people find this difficult. Psychologists call this compensation. You know, people who are especially short make up for that shortness by being especially bright or especially caring or especially aggressive.
But there’s another kind of compensation. Long before there were psychologists to coin the word “compensation” there was an example set by Jesus. Jesus found his life in the acceptance of a number of inadequacies. He began by accepting a birth in a stable, a humble home, a meager education, a cruel and senseless death. Quite a number of handicaps! But extraordinary triumphs.
The secret to those triumphs was his trust in God. He accepted from God the glorious privilege of life. Jesus saw the limitations of his life as the opportunity for victorious living. And he sought from the inside that which faith alone can give.
The secret of Jesus’ life is the secret of today’s gospel. Jesus passed on to his followers—those simple fishermen who followed him—a heritage of victory. Beginning with Peter, the uneducated fisherman, and the Apostle Paul, a bigoted Pharisee—Jesus used these followers and thousands of other to live beyond their limitations.
Today’s gospel says something to us: God wishes us to be ourselves at our highest and best. God judges us not by comparison with others, but by comparison with what we are becoming. God looks not upon what we are outwardly, but upon our hearts.
You see, today’s gospel is entreating us to be who we are, to reach out to others knowing that God has given us this gift in Jesus Christ.
Listen, again, to the words of Luke: “Jesus got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore…When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break…But when Simon Peter saw this, he feel down at Jesus’ knees, saying ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man’…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—everything behind--and followed him.”
Amen
