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(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.
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I got an email from Linda Jones this week. Many of you know Linda. She just finished a three-year term on our Vestry;
she sings in our choir and often in quartet. Recently she's developed a music ministry with our Healing Touch work. Linda
has given me permission to let her email be the bulk of my sermon today. Recently she's been fishing in some of the deep
waters that Jesus invited Simon Peter into. But the story starts with a childhood prayer.
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When I was a child growing up in Louisiana, one of my greatest prayers of all was that God would give me an aqua blue,
Betty Crocker Easy Bake Oven. I'd pray on my way home from my Grandparents; I'd pray at Christmas time; I'd pray in church:
"God, give me an Easy Bake Oven!"
Well, I never did get my Easy Bake Oven, and while I don't recall my exact emotions at the time, I would imagine there
was some part of me that felt like God just didn't hear me, or that God was "fresh out," and that I'd just have
to keep praying -- "God, my Easy Bake Oven, please!!" As adults, we may pray similar things such as: "God,
give me a new car"; "God, bring me my Knight in Shining Armor"; "God, help the Colts beat the Bears"!!
But, what do you do when something that surely demands prayers for intervention from God confronts you? What do you do
when you are confronted with the possibility of cancer? I thought about this a lot today as I went to and from my CA-125
blood test to find out, perhaps tomorrow or Wednesday, if I have cancer. On my way to the test, I wondered what clever statement
I could make to Greg, the lab technician? Could I say: "Greg, you make sure there's no cancer in there, ok?" or
"Greg, if there's cancer in me, you make sure you get it in that syringe so I can face this sooner, rather than later,
ok?" I uttered neither comment to him and only said that I was nervous about the test. Though he is normally an exceedingly
happy-go-lucky fellow, his silence only resonated the seriousness of this exam. As I departed, I again thought about the
test, the possibility of cancer and then wondered what I should now pray. Do I pray: "God, make sure there's no cancer;
keep the cancer away"? Or, do I pray: "God, give me the strength to face whatever challenge comes my way"?
The answer is clear to me, and I've been working on that in recent days. When you look at this week's Gospel, Jesus has
spotted two boats and has asked Simon to go out into the deeper waters and see what he can catch. Simon has this ho-hum response
that they've tried everything and nothing worked. However, at Jesus' suggestion, he takes the boat out and when he reaches
deeper into the sea, suddenly he has caught so many fish that it is quite overwhelming. The men present are humbled by what
has occurred; they do not feel worthy. Yet Jesus replies: "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people".
Putting out into deeper water can sometimes be a huge and unimaginable risk, but it can also be a deep, mystifying prayer
that brings you closer to God's love. I'm not one to share myself so deeply with others. It always feels huge, unmanageable
-- but not unimaginable -- as I have thought about it all my life, tried at times to trust and share so deeply, but have always
pulled up the net out of fear of the net's breaking from the sheer overwhelming weight of it all.
In the last month, I've taken this risk anew, almost exclusively because something deep inside my soul has told me that
I have to and perhaps want to. When this health scare started about a month ago, I just wanted to keep it under my hat; I
wanted to fully believe that I could be that "Old Girl and the Sea" and survive without having to share this struggle
with anyone. Albert Gray changed that in my recent visit to the ER when he urgently said, "you have to let someone know
you are here".
Since that long day, and the last six months of beautiful conversations with Suzanne Stoner, and the sharing of my current
battle with others, and my support for others who are also in their own personal battles -- the nets have flowed deep in the
water, "catching" and pulling up human treasures who time and time again have nourished my soul with nothing but
love and given me support in ways I could not imagine.
Yes, though a risk, the "catch" has been overwhelming. Perhaps it feels undeserved in some ways, much like
Simon who basically said "We're not worthy." But truly, the "catch" has been so rewarding, so magnificent,
that I am not so afraid. I have felt that "catching people" symbolizes catching or rather receiving the gift of
God's love in others, and that no matter what happens in the coming days, God is giving me the strength I need to get through
whatever comes up.
Do I feel undeserving? A few months ago, yes; but not any more. I had a dream a few months ago. I talked about it with
Suzanne, who helped me relate the dream to my soul. In the dream I am fishing; the fish are just under the cold water; I
catch glimpses of them but am not able to catch them; I cast the bait but nothing latches on. Maybe I wasn't fishing deep
enough?
But, now that I have fished more deeply, I am catching God's love in others, and I am more filled with love. I am not
in that cold environment that I was in, in the fishing dream.
Back to Easy Bake Ovens and cancer:
You see, if I pray "God, please don't let me have cancer", well, then if I don't, GREAT! But, what am I left
with? Good health, yes, perhaps a belief that God gives us the things we ask for, but nothing more. If I pray "God,
please don't let me have cancer," and then I have cancer, chances are I have great work to do. Perhaps I would feel
tremendous discouragement and a lack of faith with God. God didn't grant me my prayer. In either outcome, I have only cast
my net into shallow, cold waters and will probably not find enough nourishment to live richly in the depths of God's grace.
On the other hand, when I pray, "God, give me the strength to face whatever challenge comes my way", then I
am left with something so beautiful -- God's grace, God's love, the love and support of so many -- that I am stronger and
more alive, more loving and more loved, no matter what the outcome is. God's grace is humbling, but God's grace exists in
all of us, and it is ours to call upon in the best and worst of times.
So, though I've never gotten my Easy Bake Oven, and though the presence of cancer is still a huge unknown, what I absolutely
do know is that I have love.
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Linda's note then ended with her quoting, in full, the thirteenth chapter of First Corinthians, the love chapter, which
we read as our epistle last week. It begins, "If I speak in the tongues of mortals and of angels, but do not have love,
I am a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal. And ...if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but do not have love, I am
nothing." In my mind's ear, I could hear Linda's voice claiming Paul's familiar words as her own. "[Love] does
not insist on its own way... It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends."
Everything comes to an end, says Paul, but "faith, hope, and love abide, these three; and the greatest of these is love."
Jesus invites us all. "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." It seems like the
infinite ocean where we are invited to fish is the infinite love of God.
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