A Practice Run

Sermon given by the Rev. Christine Gowdy-Jaehnig on 6 March 2022

Texts for Year C : 5th Sunday after the Epiphany

Isaiah 6: 1-18 * Psalm 138 * 1 Corinthians 15: 1-11 * Luke 5: 1-11

A man went on a wilderness camping trip. After the campsite was set up he found, a short ways a way, a pleasant place where he could spend time in prayer and meditation each day. A week later, as he approached this place, he noticed his footsteps slowing. He stopped short of it. This place of rock and pine, wind and sky, had become a sacred place, a holy place in which he encountered the Holy, and he was reluctant to enter it. He felt an awe-inspired shyness at the thought of God’s presence, a god whose holiness precluded a cozy intimacy. I was reminded of this man’s experience when I first read today’s readings, in which we heard two accounts of people meeting the Holy; the third reading alludes to one.

Isaiah may have been in the Temple when this vision occurred. In it Isaiah is afforded a peek into the heavenly throne-room and court. He found that the Temple could not contain the Divine Glory which spilled over into Creation. This is perhaps the greatest image of the holiness of God in the Old Testament, and it underlines the infinite qualitative difference between ourselves and our Creator. The text does not say so, but I imagine Isaiah fell to his knees --if not his face. He declaimed in fear and dread, “Woe to me, for I am undone, for I am a man of impure lips, and in a people of impure lips do I dwell. My eyes have seen the King Lord of Armies.” He believed it might be his last moments. A seraph (not the cute Italian puti but a six winged being whose name suggests a fiery creature) then conducted a cleansing ritual with a coal from the altar, making Isaiah “worthy” to be in God’s presence. When God asks who can be sent to share God’s word, Isaiah responds, “Here I am, send me.” Perhaps he would not have been so enthusiastic had he known it would be a word of judgment on the ruling classes of Israel and Judah for their greed and dishonesty, injustice, violence, and lack of faith.

In our gospel reading we heard of another man stricken as a result of an encounter with holiness. Simon had met Jesus when Jesus had helped his mother-in-law, one of many people in the area Jesus had healed and exorcised of demons. Some days later, Simon hears Jesus’ compelling teaching which had gathered and held the attention of such a large crowd that Jesus had used Simon’s boat as a speaking platform. Both these events were exciting but not life-changing, as there were other healers and teachers at work during this era. Simon was about to return Jesus to the shore and give his nets the attention they needed, when Jesus instructs him to go out into the deep water of the lake and let down his nets. Although Simon is tired out by his night of futile fishing, he reluctantly does as bid. And his catch is astounding! He calls for his fishing partners and tries to deal with the overwhelming haul which begins to sink the boats. At some point he gives up and drops to his knees. He is shocked by his move from the security of the known –even if it is a fixed reality of scarcity, struggle and competition-- into a new reality of breath-stopping abundance and possibility. Out of the deep waters –that realm of chaos and evil-- Jesus has produced not just a family-satisfying meal but a community-satisfying feast. This is a sign of the presence of God in this man. Simon speaks out of his awareness of his ordinariness, sinful and inadequacy, saying, “Leave me, Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Jesus’ response is to announce that Simon’s fish experience was just a practice run, a warm up for his new job as Jesus’ disciple, in which he will be catching people.

One of the people that Simon Peter does not catch is a man named Saul, who works zealously to sink the young church’s boat. Near the city of Damascus, the risen Jesus Christ throws Saul to the ground with a brilliant light and calls him by name, twice, as God called to Moses from the burning bush.

All of these encounters with the Divine overwhelm and lead to transformation. Saul is given a new name and a new vocation; he embraces his new work with a commitment equal to or greater than what he had brought to its opposite. Simon becomes Peter and makes not just a splash but waves with his impetuosity and enthusiasm. In his poem The Prophet, Russian writer Alexander Pushkin gave Isaiah these words to describe his encounter with the seraph:

And with his sword he cleaved my breast
Removed my shaking heart,
And then he seized a blazing coal,
And placed it in my gaping breast.
Corpse-like I lay upon the sand
And then God's voice called out to me:
"Arise, O Prophet, watch and hark,
Fulfill all my commands:
Go forth now over land and sea,
And with your word ignite men's hearts.

In these three stories, people meet God, and are given new vocations. What have they to say to us, who really do not expect to receive a new job? First: they remind us that God is God, greater and more real than we can understand; that our creeds are no more than a gesture towards something we are too limited to comprehend. Second: this God cares about us; in my last sermon I reflected upon how God delights in us. Third: we are all called to be disciples, co-workers with Jesus. While God’s call to us may not have the initial impetus of a dramatic and heart-stopping vision like Isaiah or Paul’s, or an experience such as Peter’s, yet we should never forget that God is present and reaching towards us. Let us not be like those to whom Isaiah prophecized, who had eyes but could not see and ears but could not hear.

The Church and each church should be (and be seen to be) a place of spiritual experience, of engagement with the greater Reality; a place where we come in openness and expectation of an encounter with God. We are on a holy adventure in the company of Isaiah, Simon, and Paul. Or perhaps, if we find those name too intimidating, with Priscilla and Aquila, two of Paul’s first converts in Corinth. I thought of these words of Annie Dillard as I contemplated Isaiah’s vision: “Does anyone have the foggiest idea what sort of power we so blithely invoke? … It is madness to wear ladies straw hats and velvet hats to church; we should all be wearing crash helmets. Ushers should issue life preservers and signal flares; they should lash us to our pews. For the … god may draw us out to where we can never return.” In other words, we should expect to be transformed, challenged to grow, and prodded and pulled into a more human and more holy shape.

Will Willimon is a Methodist pastor and professor at Duke. He attended a lecture titled The Renewal of the Inner City Church given by Jim Wallis. Willimon wrote:

Wallis told a group of pastors true stories of declining inner-city churches that had, by the grace of God, rediscovered their mission and begun to thrive. I was inspired, but in the conversation afterwards one pastor after another criticized Wallis’ speech. They accused him of looking at the church through rose-colored glasses. One even implied that he had lied.
That evening I told Wallis that I was appalled by the group’s reaction. “I wasn’t,” he said. “That’s the reaction I always get from mainline, liberal pastors. They are amazed when God wins. Scared to death that Easter just might, after all, be true.”

Willimon said later in his article, “Sometimes … I fear the unwanted intrusions of the Holy Spirit. It isn’t easy when you are fishing with Jesus.”

If we don’t believe God can and will show up in our lives and change us, then we are just a group of history lovers who show up to read –not scripture-- but historical documents together. It is easier to be in the boat with the historic Jesus than with Jesus the resurrected Christ –for he will rock “the hell out of our” boats.

Let us pray:

Holy, holy, holy are you, Lord God of hosts;
We thank you for filling our nets;
You call us from the safety of the shore to an adventure of the spirit;
Give us courage to follow where you call.
And make us prophets of peace and heralds of mercy
This we pray through Jesus Christ, who gives life in abundance. Amen.