“Following and Fishing”
Original sermon given on February 9, 2025, written and delivered by Pastor Jeff Leininger at First Saint Paul’s Lutheran Church.
Watch the sermon live.
“Following and Fishing”
Luke 5.1-11
Luke 5.1-11
In the name of the Living God and the Christ who has appeared to us. Amen.
Layers of miracles make up today’s gospel reading, although you might have missed a couple of them. Of course, there’s the big one, the headliner, the one that will get all the MVP votes (to force an obligatory Superbowl reference): two boats full, nets almost breaking, a life-changing haul for those small businessmen and their families.
But bookending the main miracle are two less noted miracles, perhaps less dramatic. They are both miracles of faith. The first, that Simon took Jesus at his word; the second that he left it all and followed.
Simon took Jesus at his word. They had labored all night, with nothing to show for it. No doubt they’re cranky and disappointed. It’s “Miller Time” for these blokes, only without the satisfaction of anything accomplished. If you’ve ever talked to someone who runs their own small business and whose family relies upon its success, you get a little idea of how on the edge these fishermen lived — and how, despite their labors, there’s an element to their livelihood beyond their control. It didn’t matter how hard they worked; they remained slaves to fluctuations of the fish and the markets.
It makes you wonder what Simon’s attitude would have been towards Jesus’ commandeering one of his boats. We’re not told, but I know I would have been a little cranky about it — hungry, tired, bad day at work. “Sure, whatever, have at it, mate,” I imagine.
They put out a little way from the shore: this gives the Lord better acoustics and a better position to bring the word to the ever-growing and enclosing crowd. But then at the end of his teaching, quite suddenly really, Jesus pushes the pause button and says, “Put out into the deep waters and cast your nets for a catch.”
Imagine this moment: worked all night, tired and cranky, everything’s cleaned up, ready for a beer, and this teacher who doesn’t know anything about fishing — he’s a carpenter after all — commands you to get back at it, and to go deep. (Go deep or go home! Like, maybe, we’ve ran that play all day against the Chief’s defence and it hasn’t worked, and you’re telling me to run it again?)
If that’s me on the shore, I tell this pretentious carpenter/Rabbi to jump in that lake — or maybe push him in myself.
But then comes the first miracle of faith: even though everything says otherwise, at your word I will cast the nets. Simon believes the word of Jesus, contrary to his experience, his mood, his world. The words of Christ — both command and invitation — seize him and prompt him to put out into the deep waters and cast those nets again. He took Jesus at his word.
The second miracle of faith follows the headliner miraculous catch but is equally remarkable. So, the main miracle is that they put out into the deep waters, cast their nets over, and then begin hauling in such an abundant catch that another boat is needed, the nets nearly break, and the boats are nearly swamped.
Simon Peter, who of course is never halfway about anything, throws himself at Jesus on his knees in repentance, wonder, worship. This would be understandable, given the circumstances — even natural. Who wouldn’t be humbled and amazed? But then comes the second miracle of faith, which bookends the story. He leaves it all behind and follows.
What does he leave behind? Of course he leaves behind his business, his home, his family, and that life-altering catch which could pay off his debt and bring financial security. But he leaves something else behind, too: his own overwhelming awareness of sin and inadequacies and unworthiness. He’s just told Jesus to depart from him, from his sinfulness, but then when Jesus tells him not to fear and to come catch men, he follows anyway.
This might be the greatest miracle of that morning along the lake: to believe that, though I’m unworthy and I can’t see where it will all end, to put aside fear and to follow.
Follow he would. He, James, and John — and many others, of many tribes and languages through the millennia — and even a couple more this morning as Erik is confirmed, and Sarah affirms her baptismal faith. All of us, who like Peter, get up off our knees and follow, we often follow into deeper waters than we would have imagined, or down more perilous paths. We follow even to the cross of Christ, which is our salvation but also our death — death of our old selves, our old ways of thinking and working and perceiving the world.
Simon would follow even unto Martyrdom, although he can’t possibly know that yet. We actually know how this following and fishers of men business works out for him, more than he does in this moment. According to church tradition, he is crucified upside down for this work. I have to say, I’ve often wondered, if, as hung there, breathing his final breaths — I wonder if he had a just a spare second amid the horrible pain to think back to that morning along the lakeshore, when he took Jesus at his word. When he got up off his knees and followed not knowing where it would lead. In that martyr’s moment, he would need the miracle of faith once again — to die believing that death is not the end, that the Lord was still with him, and that through the deep waters something abundant would be awaiting.
We’ll each need that too someday. Erik and Sarah, you will too. And all of us. May God the Holy Spirit work in us to take Jesus at his word, to leave everything behind and follow.
Come soon Lord Jesus. Amen.