Jesus calls Peter to follow him in a stunning moment of abundance. One that’s likely to frighten us by its implications.asdf
The dark side of abundance
Epiphany 5C | Luke 5:1-11
Simon fishes for a living. He isn’t just some hobbyist. He doesn’t go out when the weather’s good and he’s got a day off. This is work.
He has come ashore after a whole night of fishing; empty-handed. It is safe to assume this is more than a little demoralizing.
And while we’re assuming, let’s add a little speculation. Use our imaginations to broaden the story—just a shade.
Imagine he isn’t just frustrated in an abstract sense. Imagine he feels like we do sometimes. The voice in his head is telling him he’s a failure. He’s no good at this. Maybe, if he does this a few more times, he should just give it up.
And maybe there is some reason to worry. Maybe the fishing business is drying up. Or its getting too crowded. His rates are undercut by a bigger operation. Or something is happening and the sea is not offering up as many fish as she used to.
Of course, we’d never assume he knows anything about climate change. He’s more likely to see it as God’s doing. But, we know about climate change. And the fishing industry’s impact on the global fish population. And the impact of pollution on marine life.
Peter packs it in for the morning, having worked all night. He’s near the shoreline with his business partners; cleaning nets. Tired. No doubt more than a little defeated.
And then Jesus hops in his boat.
The benefits for him are two-fold. One, it puts some space between him and the crowds which have just started pushing upon him. And two, it is a natural amplifier. He can be heard better.
And so Jesus teaches from the boat. For a little while.
Then he asks Peter to take him out into the deep water.
Peter, who is probably thinking about going home, who is probably starving, exhausted, just wants to be alone, has this rabbi in his boat, taking him back out to the site of his failure.
And then he says to Peter to drop the nets in.
Try it again.
This thing you’ve tried before. That you’ve declared a total failure.
Simon even tells Jesus straight up, in those words. We’ve already tried that.
But…
Despite our tendency to try something once and then never again. Or to refuse to do something because it is the wrong time. Peter gives it an OK.
This isn’t the time to catch fish. His experience says it won’t work. But…he tries.
And fish fill the nets.
Peter’s skepticism was warranted. His experience said it couldn’t happen. His professional opinion was to not do it.
But he did it anyway.
We call this trust. In part because Jesus calls it trust. He trusted Jesus. Which is not to say that he believed they would catch any fish. Or that he had any reason to do it. But that he trusted Jesus enough to do it anyway.
We know this is a story about trust.
And we love, love, love that famous line about making it so Peter can fish for people. That is pure gold.
But what happens between Peter’s moment of trust and Jesus’s calling of Peter to be a disciple is incredible and important.
Because Jesus doesn’t merely fill the nets. This isn’t some minor miracle of pure joy.
The nets become over-filled. They start to break. Peter’s very livelihood is being threatened. Everything he’s worked for is flashing before his eyes.
But he collects himself; calls for help. His business partners come over in their boat and help him get the fish into the boat. But the fish keep coming. They fill both boats. And now the boats are threatened, sinking.
This vision of abundance, of impossible plenty at the site of his personal failure, is full of anxiety, fear, and personal threat—to both his life and livelihood. Everything he has and knows is crumbling, and this guy, this rabbi is throwing it all into chaos.
Peter throws himself down, like Jonah before God.
He’s filled with a mixture of exhaustion and a low sense of self. He is a nobody. A worthless nothing. Useless. How can he possibly deserve any of this?
That’s when Jesus gives him the new job.
Let’s fish for people.
On the lowest day at the lowest point. The site of his failure. Jesus gives him the keys.
How often are we like Peter rather than Jesus?
Dwelling on our failures or rejecting our abundance?
But I suspect our issue is not so much that we are Peter rather than Jesus. I suspect we often tend to be neither.
I think we struggle to see the downside to abundance. That wealth, power, the things we call “success” can threaten our lives, our health, and ability to live in the world. We think more is objectively “good” and perpetual, permanent growth is not just an economic ideal, but a genuine necessity for life.
When we read this story, do our ears even hear the breaking nets? The sinking boats? Do we hear how threatening the abundance is in this story? How scary it all is?
Perhaps you have more trust than I do. You know that they’re with Jesus and he won’t let anything happen to them. That is some solid faith that I can’t argue with.
But I think we’re more prone to ignore it. Because we want to focus on the good. And more importantly, because we tend to assume abundance is good. So these dangers are merely side effects to ignore.
Jesus doesn’t give Peter the job just because of his trust.
He gives him the job at his lowest point.
What if our visions of success and failure have us totally turned around so that we can’t see what Jesus sees? We prefer to “reward success” rather than see failure as true preparation.
Because accumulating wealth isn’t the goal. Not for this team. They are going to fish for people. And that requires different eyes than the ones we develop to succeed in this system.
Throughout the gospels, Jesus brings in the outcasts, the weak, the left behind, the fallen through the cracks, the outsiders and gives them the plum jobs. He says they are responsible for making the Kin-dom happen here. The rejects get picked. And the always picked hate it.
Contrast that with the fact that every Supreme Court justice in the last several decades has attended the same two law schools. Our supposed meritocracy is opposite Jesus’s.
And yet within this juxtaposition we can see the true beauty of Jesus’s offer. To be free of the rat race and be part of something truly beautiful coming into the world!
It shouldn’t surprise us that they jump for it. Leaving boats, nets, and two boatloads of fish behind. Because that is a way better offer. To be one of an infinite number of somebodies in the Kin-dom is unfathomably better than being a somebody in our exclusive VIP-obsessed kingdom of greed.An abundance we all can share in is far more valuable.