At the Water’s Edge

At the Water’s Edge

Luke 5.1-11

Graciously sloping hillsides border Lake Galilee; hillsides dotted here and there with grain fields down to the water’s edge.  As Luke tells the story, Jesus descended these slopes one day to meet and claim Simon Peter.  How fortunate it was that Simon first met Jesus at the water’s edge, that intriguing place where the winds often carry news from the farther shore; that place of beauty and wonder where the air is charged with a mysterious, almost mystical quality.

Can you envision it in your mind’s eye, the water’s edge?  You’ve seen it countless times before.  It is that unique place where artists are inspired to create; where philosophers discover clarity of vision; and where mystics sense the nearness of God.  How fortunate that Simon met Jesus at the water’s edge, that boundary between worlds; the borderland, as it were, where God’s world touches our own and holiness seems almost tangible.  How fortunate that Simon first met Jesus at the water’s edge, for there miracles are possible, and on that day, he gazed into the eyes of the Galilean and saw God’s reflection; he listened, and in his voice heard God’s simple yet all-inclusive call: follow.

It would strike me as odd if the events of that day weren’t long remembered in Capernaum; quite curious indeed if they weren’t discussed and dissected from all possible angles for a thousand and one days.  I’m sure that some tried to discern in the miraculous catch of fish an omen from God.  Most, however, probably preserved in their gluttonous spirits a memory of the feast afforded them on that day; for Simon and company in their distraction left the fish behind; nets full to overflowing for anyone to claim.  But Peter knew that the day’s events hadn’t concerned fish.  They played a meager role at best, claiming his attention and pointing it God’s way.  For Simon it was clear; that day when he first met Jesus at the water’s edge was all about God.

This is where we part company with Simon, you and I, for we don’t typically read his call experience as a story about God.  And perhaps this, in turn, is why we don’t understand the urgency and sense of abandon with which Simon responded to God’s call.  Correct me if I am wrong, but it seems to me that we much prefer to ignore this story’s mystical element and treat it simply as a hero story.  And why not; it’s true, isn’t it?  What courage it must have taken for Simon, James, and John to leave everything behind at a moment’s notice and follow a stranger into an uncertain future.  What intuitive vision it must have taken for uncouth fishermen without benefit of religious training to leave their sole means of livelihood and attach themselves to a wandering holy man.  It took a hero or a fool to act as Simon did that day, and if only to give him the benefit of the doubt, we choose hero.

In my estimation, however, this is no mere hero story; and I suggest that there was nothing heroic in Simon’s actions that day.  Following Jesus was not difficult for Simon; rather, after discerning God’s reflection in the Galilean, not following would have proven more difficult.  After recognizing his own sinfulness exposed in God’s shadow, how did he put it as he fell to his knees before Jesus? “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man!” – after recognizing his own sinfulness only to have it washed away in the first wave of grace, not responding with his all, with his very life, would have proven the more difficult choice.

All the heroic tasks, it seems, fell on God’s side of this encounter.  It fell to God to create from an uncouth fisherman a rock of a man, a courageous and visionary leader in the early Church.  It fell to God to create from this simple peasant a spiritual giant who would eventually emulate his Lord in all ways, including the manner of his death.  And it wasn’t easy mind you, for this Simon was headstrong and just a bit arrogant for a peasant fisherman.

You may recall that he once chided Jesus for hinting that God’s Messiah would suffer at the hands of men, when everyone knew that Messiah would know only resplendent and rapturous victory. And there was the issue of his fear, a fear so strong that it would one day drive him to abandon Jesus in his hour of greatest need.

To God, not Simon, fell the hero’s role on that day; and while it wasn’t easy, God was up to the task.  God had, in fact, taken on such a role before.  While there was no miraculous catch of fish to image God’s glory and grandeur, Moses saw God reflected in a bush that burned without being consumed and sensed in this encounter God’s simple yet all-inclusive call: follow.

And God created from this orphaned refugee with a speech impediment a charismatic leader destined to challenge Egypt’s Pharaoh solely on the word of a God whose name and nature he did not clearly understand.

Again, while there was neither a miraculous catch of fish nor a burning bush, Isaiah saw God’s glory and grandeur in a vision, and recognized his own sinfulness exposed in God’s presence, only to have it burned away by the searing touch of grace.  In this encounter Isaiah also sensed God’s simple yet all-inclusive call, and like Moses before him and Simon centuries later, he followed.  Not to follow, now that would have been quite a task!

It is fortunate that Simon first met Jesus at the water’s edge, for there at the ethereal boundary where God’s world touches our own, miracles are possible.  But the real miracle that day didn’t involve fish; rather, it involved the molding of a man of God from what must have seemed a useless lump of clay.  God called Simon, who responded in the only manner open to him, he left all behind …and followed.

God called Simon, and God still calls.  Just as surely as God called Moses, Isaiah, Simon, and others too numerous to name; God still calls women and men to a simple yet all-inclusive vocation: follow, simply follow.  This unique call, it must be said, is always accompanied by grace; that is, God’s willingness to assume the hero’s role and create the woman or man required by such a vocation.  This unique call reveals God’s fervent desire to mold the clay of human lives yet again, creating new women and men given not to greed and self-aggrandizement; but rather to humility, compassion, and a life of service.

None of us pretends to understand the mystery and miracle of God’s call, but those who have sensed it in their lives have found it more difficult to resist than to follow.  It would be a mistake, however, to conclude that God’s call is extended exclusively to the likes of Moses, Isaiah, and Simon Peter; or in our own day to Rosa Parks, Martin Luther King, Jr., or Desmond Tutu.  God has but one call, and it is extended to every one of us.  God calls us to leave behind our lives of bondage and brokenness, and in grace follow God’s way of wholeness and peace.

Whatever the brokenness that plagues us – arrogance, pride, addiction, fear, anger, or violence to mention but a few possibilities – God’s call is now and will ever be accompanied by grace that will heal and make us whole.

God’s call, in addition, reveals a fervent desire to remold our lives, to create in us women or men capable of walking faithfully in humility, compassion, and service.  Whatever our individual vocation – businesswoman, teacher, musician, seamstress, foundry worker, pastor, pilot, engineer …we are all called to the same life of compassionate service, a life expressed through our own unique gifts.

God calls each of us; yet we need not seek the hero’s role in this encounter; but simply open our lives to God’s transforming presence.  Our role resembles that of Moses, Isaiah, Simon, and all the others who have in the past or will in the future respond to God’s call. Our calling is to meet Jesus at the water’s edge where miracles are possible; hear God’s voice reflected in the Galilean’s; and follow, simply follow.