Epiphany 5 - 9 th February 2025
Readings: Isaiah 6: 1-8; Psalm 138; 1 Corinthians 15: 1-11; Luke 5: 1-11
My last full-time parish as many of you know was Bribie Island, and often in the late afternoon or early evening I’d take a walk along Red Beach on the southern end of the island. Sometimes I was the only person on the beach and on a clear evening you could see the lights in the high rises of Brisbane city coming on. But sometimes too there were fishermen on the beach - professional fisherman with boats and nets and I’d see them hauling in their nets full of mullet mostly. Nets absolutely full of them flapping and heaving. It was quite exciting to watch. I’d watch the fishermen too when we spent five years at Caloundra, so as we’re thinking about fishing this morning, here are some things I observed.
Firstly, the fishermen were always watchful. I’d see them standing on the dunes at Bribie or on the cliffs at Caloundra constantly watching - looking out to sea. Looking ahead, not behind. We’re in the business, Jesus tells us, of fishing for people - our core business if you like or one of them. Another we don’t have time to go into today is the ministry of reconciliation, which St. Paul tells us we have. But as we’re in the business, it seems to me that we need to be alert, always watchful, looking for opportunities, looking ahead and not behind. The fishermen of Bribie or Caloundra were never going to spot any opportunities if they looked behind them, and neither will we. That doesn’t mean we ignore or forget everything that has made us the people of God in this place - it’s history, shared stories, traditions. But they can’t constrain us from looking ahead, looking for opportunity, looking for what God might have in store.
Secondly, as soon as they saw an opportunity - a school of fish they were off. You could see them running for their four-wheel drives which towed their boats, nets all ready and piled in the boats. It was like a Le Mans start - no standing in their way. So, it seems to me that as soon as we see opportunities we should be acting quickly, no mucking around, but just going for it basically. Libbie and I took the view in our parish ministries that if someone came to see us with an idea, we’d do everything we could to in our power to support it and to go for it. Now of course not every idea is going to be a good one- you need to be discerning, but it’s important we grab the opportunities. We were at Caloundra a couple of years ago for a service and I was humbled to see that an outreach initiative that began about 20 years ago with one lady coming to see me was still going.
Thirdly, as we all know, professional fishing is a risky business. The fishermen I used to watch would head out into the deep just as it was getting dark. These days, it seems to me, you don’t get much of a catch simply standing on the shore. Ministry, outreach, fishing for people is a risky business and we should recognise this and be prepared to take the risks. Sometimes I would see empty nets, sometimes we will make mistakes and miss out. I don’t mean being foolhardy - the net fishermen I watched weren’t - they knew the risks and how to manage them. But when it all pays off, the nets will be full, we’ll be amazed at the result, as were Peter and his offsiders.
A couple of additional observations from the readings:
Firstly, Peter’s experience mirrors the experience of many of us in faith communities, whether clergy or lay people. We have worked really hard and tried to be faithful and yet sometimes things just don’t seem to work out. We have tried all the latest programmes and the downward trend continues. And, yet God offers one more thing – launch out into the deep, go toward the horizon, be alert to new possibilities. Don’t give up, be faithful and join your imagination with action that goes beyond mere church survival; that always looks ahead rather than behind.
Like Jeremiah last week, Isaiah, who protests his inadequacy. “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips and I live among a people of unclean lips”[1] when he sees the vision of God, Peter is similarly overwhelmed and protests his inadequacy. “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man.” He knows his imperfections and he fears that he’s getting in over his head (which he is). But how does Jesus respond? Does he command him to repent? No. Does he say, “Sell all you have and give half to the poor”? No. Peter and his friends have painfully explored their own unworthiness and weaknesses. They are all too aware of their inadequacies and right at this moment of painful self- awareness, Jesus simply says “Follow me” and Peter, James and John join Jesus on the adventure.
Isaiah and Peter alike, all too aware of their weaknesses and imperfection, trust God to use it. That’s the essence of humility. We too are called to an essential humility, to own our foibles and fragilities, but to trust that in all the ups and downs of success and failure, God calls us to expect great things and empowers us to be more than we can imagine.
Secondly, a brief word about language. As we’ve been thinking about fishing this morning, we’ve studiously avoided one inconvenient part of the fishing metaphor – when you catch fish either for livelihood or for leisure, the fish die.[2] What are we to make of that? Well, Luke is a great storyteller, and like all great storytellers, chooses his language carefully. When Jesus tells Peter and James and John that from now on, they will be catching people, the verb Luke uses is a combination word. It combines the Greek words for life and catch. It was used in connection with catching animals alive for keeping in some protected way - like netting fish for an aquarium. Brendan Byrne comments that it resonates with a sense of life - it communicates the sense of “capturing”people with the Word and bringing them to a more abundant life of the kingdom of God.[3] My point is that we too, in our fishing for people, must be similarly careful with the language we employ.
I want to conclude with a short parable:
There was a group that called themselves The Fisherfolk Club. They started out as a gathering of people who earned their living fishing in the ocean. At first, only real fisherfolk could join. But not wanting to be selfish, and because they had nice facilities that needed to be paid for, they invited others to come in too.
In the club headquarters there were fish symbols galore, hooks, nets, floats and rods. All the members of the club, even those who were not fishers, wore old hats with lures stuck in them and tall wading boots which got quite uncomfortable on warm days. But they were proud to be fishers and so never took them off.
They had a well-stocked library of books about fishing. And several times a year they ran seminars at which world-renounced fishers were invited to come and deliver learned lectures. All the talk and all the activities of the club centred around fishing, but as the years went by, fewer and fewer of the members actually went out fishing.
Then one day, the club had a new member. They had not had a new member for some time, so this was an interesting experience. And the new member asked an interesting question. “When do you go fishing?”
Well, it turned out that members of The Fisherfolk Club had never caught a fish. In fact, they had never actually seen a live fish. And the idea that they should go out there in a boat or wade into the water came as quite a shock to them.
They had long meetings on the subject and finally came to the conclusion that the new member would have to leave. The new member obviously knew very little about what it really meant to be a member of The Fisherfolk Club.
© The Rev’d WD Crossman
[1] Isaiah 6:5
[2] I acknowledge that some sports fishermen and women release the fish they’ve caught.
[3] Brendan Byrne The Hospitality of God – A Reading of Luke’s Gospel Liturgical Press Collegeville Minnesota 2015 p67