Something Fishy's Going On -- FPC sermon excerpt
The writer Mark Twain loved to boast about his hunting and fishing exploits. One year he went on a three-week fishing trip deep in the heart of Maine — a fishing trip that took place long after the state’s fishing season had closed.
On the train home from the trip, Mark Twain found a stranger in the lounge car, and he began to tell him all about his fishing adventures. Unfortunately, Twain’s boasting about his catch did not impress the stranger. Instead, the man looked very, very grim.
Finally, Twain asked the stranger, “By the way, who are you, sir?”
“I’m the state game warden,” the stranger growled. “Who are you?”
Mark Twain nearly swallowed his cigar. Thinking about all the fish that he had on ice in the baggage car, Twain answered, “Well, to be perfectly truthful, warden … I’m the biggest [darn] liar in the whole United States!”
Something fishy’s going on!
In the Gospel of Luke, people are gathering beside the Lake of Gennesaret, and they are anxious “to hear the word of God” (Luke 5:1). They have discovered that Jesus is not “the biggest darn liar” in the country, but instead he is a man of “gracious words” (4:22). He speaks “with authority” (v. 32), “he commands the unclean spirits and they come out” (v. 36), and he proclaims “the good news of the kingdom of God” (v. 43).
These are the kinds of words we need to hear today, in a world so full of lies and sarcasm and bad news. I suspect that many of you are here today for the same reason that the people gathered at the lake — “to hear the word of God.” You need a word of guidance, a word of acceptance, and a word of challenge. I know I do, and for all of these reasons I am really happy that we are hearing this story together.
This is the word of God, coming to us today. And although there are some fish in the story, there’s really nothing fishy about it!
First, it contains a word of guidance. Jesus gets into a boat belonging to Simon Peter, pushes away from the shore, and teaches the crowd from the boat. This way, he is not mobbed by the crowd, and his voice can be heard clearly across the surface of the water. When he is finished, he says to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch” (5:4).
These words of guidance come as a surprise to Simon. After all, he is an experienced fisherman, and he has just fished all night without a bite. Deep water, shallow water — what difference does it make? The fish are either biting or they’re not.
There is something very fishy about this instruction from Jesus.
But Simon, to his credit, agrees to follow these words of guidance. “If you say so,” says Simon, “I will let down the nets” (v. 5). When he and his fellow fishermen do this, they catch so many fish that their nets are beginning to break. They call for help, summon another boat, and they fill both boats so full that the boats begin to sink.
They end up with an incredibly abundant catch, far more than they ever dreamed possible.
The key to their success was to follow the guidance of Jesus. So often, when we trust our own instincts, our own practices, our own habits, and our own common sense, we end up with empty nets — and even emptier lives. But when we follow the guidance of Jesus, we end up receiving more than we dreamed possible. Imagine what might happen if you step out in faith and actually follow the guidance of Jesus when he says, “Follow me … love your enemies … do not judge … feed the hungry … clothe the naked.”
When the Midlife Men on a Mission and I went to Honduras last fall, we didn’t know exactly what we would accomplish. But we traveled to this foreign land with open hearts and minds, and we reflected on these words from Jesus, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
We set aside our North American instincts, practices, and habits, and trusted Jesus to provide a catch for us. What we received was truly abundant: The smiling faces of children enjoying improvements to Camp Rancho Vida, the boldness of nurse Lisa Armstrong doing God’s work under difficult conditions, the perpetually sunny outlook of our friend Henry the Welder.
Not Henry the Pastor. That’s me, and my outlook is not always sunny. The one who gave us such inspiration was our Honduran friend Henry the Welder. As much as we might do on a mission trip, we always come back feeling that we have received much more than we have given.
There’s nothing fishy about it.
On the train home from the trip, Mark Twain found a stranger in the lounge car, and he began to tell him all about his fishing adventures. Unfortunately, Twain’s boasting about his catch did not impress the stranger. Instead, the man looked very, very grim.
Finally, Twain asked the stranger, “By the way, who are you, sir?”
“I’m the state game warden,” the stranger growled. “Who are you?”
Mark Twain nearly swallowed his cigar. Thinking about all the fish that he had on ice in the baggage car, Twain answered, “Well, to be perfectly truthful, warden … I’m the biggest [darn] liar in the whole United States!”
Something fishy’s going on!
In the Gospel of Luke, people are gathering beside the Lake of Gennesaret, and they are anxious “to hear the word of God” (Luke 5:1). They have discovered that Jesus is not “the biggest darn liar” in the country, but instead he is a man of “gracious words” (4:22). He speaks “with authority” (v. 32), “he commands the unclean spirits and they come out” (v. 36), and he proclaims “the good news of the kingdom of God” (v. 43).
These are the kinds of words we need to hear today, in a world so full of lies and sarcasm and bad news. I suspect that many of you are here today for the same reason that the people gathered at the lake — “to hear the word of God.” You need a word of guidance, a word of acceptance, and a word of challenge. I know I do, and for all of these reasons I am really happy that we are hearing this story together.
This is the word of God, coming to us today. And although there are some fish in the story, there’s really nothing fishy about it!
First, it contains a word of guidance. Jesus gets into a boat belonging to Simon Peter, pushes away from the shore, and teaches the crowd from the boat. This way, he is not mobbed by the crowd, and his voice can be heard clearly across the surface of the water. When he is finished, he says to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch” (5:4).
These words of guidance come as a surprise to Simon. After all, he is an experienced fisherman, and he has just fished all night without a bite. Deep water, shallow water — what difference does it make? The fish are either biting or they’re not.
There is something very fishy about this instruction from Jesus.
But Simon, to his credit, agrees to follow these words of guidance. “If you say so,” says Simon, “I will let down the nets” (v. 5). When he and his fellow fishermen do this, they catch so many fish that their nets are beginning to break. They call for help, summon another boat, and they fill both boats so full that the boats begin to sink.
They end up with an incredibly abundant catch, far more than they ever dreamed possible.
The key to their success was to follow the guidance of Jesus. So often, when we trust our own instincts, our own practices, our own habits, and our own common sense, we end up with empty nets — and even emptier lives. But when we follow the guidance of Jesus, we end up receiving more than we dreamed possible. Imagine what might happen if you step out in faith and actually follow the guidance of Jesus when he says, “Follow me … love your enemies … do not judge … feed the hungry … clothe the naked.”
When the Midlife Men on a Mission and I went to Honduras last fall, we didn’t know exactly what we would accomplish. But we traveled to this foreign land with open hearts and minds, and we reflected on these words from Jesus, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
We set aside our North American instincts, practices, and habits, and trusted Jesus to provide a catch for us. What we received was truly abundant: The smiling faces of children enjoying improvements to Camp Rancho Vida, the boldness of nurse Lisa Armstrong doing God’s work under difficult conditions, the perpetually sunny outlook of our friend Henry the Welder.
Not Henry the Pastor. That’s me, and my outlook is not always sunny. The one who gave us such inspiration was our Honduran friend Henry the Welder. As much as we might do on a mission trip, we always come back feeling that we have received much more than we have given.
There’s nothing fishy about it.
posted by Henry Brinton | 11:46 AM
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