St. James Episcopal Church
Monkton, Maryland

Sermon for 5 Epiphany
Four calls, two boats, one Lord
Charlie Barton
Saint James Monkton
8 February 2004
5 Epiphany
Judges 6:11-24a; 1 Cor. 15:1-11; Luke 5:1-11
 
Gideon was threshing wheat, in a winepress, when the call came. He was hiding from his adversaries, the Midianites, when an angel of the Lord appeared. Gideon did not recognize who had come to be with him. The angel called him a "mighty warrior," and surely this was a prediction of things to come rather than a description of current events. After all Gideon was not marching back in triumph from a battle, he was beating up wheat in a hole in the ground.

The Lord commissioned him, and still Gideon doubted. He was not ready to go out looking for the Midianites. Who in their right mind would go out in weakness against a superior force?

But Gideon did have the presence of mind to climb out of the winepress and make an offering of hospitality to this peculiar stranger. When the stranger touched his staff to the meat and the bread that Gideon offered, a fire consumed them - that's a mark of the presence of the divine - but Gideon was more terrified than ever. Then Gideon heard the word of God that all souls who are frightened unto death long to hear: "Peace be to you; do not fear, you shall not die."

Gideon accepted this peace, and the freedom that it brought.
He built an altar and called it "The Lord is peace."

The first enemies Gideon conquered were inside his own skin: his reason and his fear.
God is bigger than both of these.
Common sense had told Gideon to hide. But God called him to come out.
Gideon's fear kept him imprisoned in a hole.
But God said, "The Lord is with you, mighty warrior,"
and Gideon rose up to glory and the Midianites could not stand.
What call beyond reason and fear might God have for us in this time?

Saul was riding on a horse on the way to Damascus to kill Christians when the call came.
It came in name changing, blinding light. Saul's former life disappeared along with his eyesight, and then Paul stood in his place, blind, but renamed and reborn. When his vision returned Paul saw eternity and salvation as clearly as the road in front of him. The light of Christ sweeps out of the letters to the Corinthians like a lighthouse calling to sailors on a stormy sea. Paul was incandescent with faith.
He allowed his old life to pass away and grace to possess him.
In that new freedom, God sent Paul on the move across the known world. Scholars say that Paul traveled ten thousand miles to preach the message that Christ had died for our sins, was buried, and rose on the third day.
Paul could rattle off the names and numbers of corroborating witnesses.
Over five hundred souls saw the resurrected Christ.
But in all times and in all places Paul let the knowledge and love of Christ
blaze as a witness in his own life.

Simon, the fisherman, wasn't even in his boat when the call came. He and the others were washing out empty nets. All night they had fished, and not one catch. Simon and his partners were seasoned fishermen. They had good equipment. They knew where to look. They knew how to work hard. And they had still come up empty. If this Jesus wanted to use the boat like a teaching seat in the synagogue he could have at it.

But just when the teaching seemed to be over Jesus asked Simon to put out into deep water. Simon protested. It didn't make sense. They had already tried all night. Simon didn't speak of the fear of deep water that most of them had. The deep was the realm of chaos, the place of sudden death if the winds rose and overturned you. Things dwelt in the deep that any reasonable person avoided.

But out in the deep, beyond Simon's experience and fear, was the place of abundance. Christ led Simon to more fish than Simon could lift. Even two boats swamped under the weight of this impossible gift found in a place that Simon would have avoided. Then Simon knew who was in the boat that sat full and low in that very deep place. Simon cried, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"

And Jesus said the words that that all sinners long to hear: "Do not be afraid."
And just like Gideon climbing out of the wheat and Paul rising out of his blindness, newly named, Simon left the life he knew for the life that God offered. No more fishing in the same old way with the same old results. It was time to leave the nets and boats behind and follow Jesus. It was time to be caught up in the work of God and to fish in the vast deep sea of lonely souls reaching out for something solid that they might be saved.

In our own life, sometimes we are like Gideon, huddled in our fear, and avoiding challenges by hiding in a winepress, or a wine glass, or any of the hundreds of hiding places we find for ourselves. Sometimes like Gideon we are so sure we know the outcome that we try to avoid having the encounter. I know this is true, I do it in my own life. But without making an offering, will we see the divine in action? If we do not come out of the hole we have dug, will we hear the word of God we so long to hear?

Sometimes we are like Saul, full of righteous certainty and pushing hard to form the world to our point of view. But what really matters? Are our lives and this community based on the things that really matter, or are we struggling to impose our wills on everything from this parish to the weather? I know this can be a struggle for some. It is my companion more times than I would prefer to admit. Are we willing to risk even the desire for transformation, or is it true that "everyone wants change they just don't want anything to be any different?"1

We are a skilled and knowledgeable people. We have good equipment. We have ways of being Saint James that are well practiced. But there is more than one way to fish and it's time to try them. Are we willing to leave the shallows? Are we willing to face the depths? Are we willing to take the Master into our boat and listen to what He says?

The truth is that it is risky to leave what you know. But the fact is that leaving is unavoidable. We are already away from the shore and there is no going back to the same old place and the same old ways. They are gone, like ripples from a river flowing into the sea. Saint James has already changed and the journey is nowhere near over. The only choice is the stance one will take in the journey, the way one will sail in the midst of change. Common sense, experience and fear have their place, but it is not at the helm of the ship. God is a far better pilot. Listen to Him.

Three stories and two boats aren't large enough to hold the abundance that God is offering. And we are in the middle of the fourth story - our story. Let us be willing to take the time to be still and to listen, before we act. Let us pray before we work. Let us seek the will of God before we simply decide a way forward in order to be done.

This is hard counsel. I am struggling to live it myself. This sermon is as much for me as it is for you. But if we support one another in the listening and looking we may hear a word from God.

All we have to do is be willing to lose the life we know, to risk leaving the way we have always done it, to wander blind - in between our old names and the new ones God shall give us when God calls.

God knows what God desires for each of us, and that shall be better for us than light and safer than the known way. We know the victory that was Gideon's, the fruit of Paul's work and that Simon became Peter, the rock on which the church was built.

God's word and God's call are trustworthy. God speaks when God is ready. In this middle time of our own story, we can take sustenance and strength from the word that came to Gideon, to Paul and to Simon: "Peace be to you; do not fear, you shall not die."

AMEN


1 Martin Marty
 

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