Luke 9:28-43; Transfiguration C; 2/27/22              Pastor Ellen Schoepf

I love this little story Rev. Dr. Robert Sims shares about a little boy and his wagon.  Sims writes:

A little boy was riding his wagon along the sidewalk. Suddenly, one of the wheels fell off the wagon.  The little boy jumped out of the wagon and said, “I’ll be damned!”  A minister happened to be walking by, and he said, “Son, you ought not use words like that!  That’s a bad word.  When something happens, just say, ‘Praise the Lord,’ and everything will be all right.”  So, the little boy grumbled, put the wheel back on the wagon and started on down the sidewalk.

About ten yards farther, the wheel fell off again.  The little boy said, “Praise the Lord!”  Suddenly, the wheel jumped up off the ground and put itself right back on the wagon.  The minister saw it all and exclaimed, “I’ll be damned.”

Sims goes on to say, “We are a lot like that minister.  We believe in God’s miraculous, glorious, transformative power; we just don’t expect it to happen to us.” 

I think Pastor Sims’ assessment is quite accurate.  I think most of us are aware in the depth of our being that we need God.  At times, I think we often long for a sign of God’s presence to us. Yet, we don’t often recognize God’s presence to us in the ordinary stuff of life, in our ordinary daily experiences.  We often do not trust God’s presence to us as we face ambiguity and an uncertain future.  Quite frankly, it is hard to trust God’s presence as the world faces an uncertain future, as we see Ukraine ruthlessly invaded by a corrupt, evil, authoritarian power.  It is hard to trust God’s presence as we watch an unnecessary, shameful war of aggression and see innocent people needlessly bombed, facing death, and killed. Frankly, we know that life for anyone of us can change at any minute.  To use Sims’ metaphor, the wheel of our wagon can fall of at any time.  Faced with life’s uncertainty and our lack of control, I think most of us yearn to really feel a connection with the power and presence of God.  We hunger to feel God’s presence to us as we face not only our present but also our tomorrows.

In today’s gospel reading, the writer of Luke is taking us to a deeper engagement with faith.  Written around 80 CE, Luke is writing to a Greek audience that, like us, yearns and hungers to understand more about God and God’s presence in life.  So, as Luke tells the Jesus story, the gospel writer tells us that Jesus knows he is facing the last weeks of his life.  Jesus understands the crisis that looms before him as he makes his way to Jerusalem.  He knows that his future means facing impending crucifixion.  And so, what does he do?  He takes Peter, James, and John with him and climbs a mountain to retreat, to spend time in prayer, to worship.  As Jesus looks to the future that awaits, he intentionally moves to spend time in prayer and worship, to spend intentional time with God.

Now, this mountain-high praying expedition comes eight days after Jesus has talked to the disciples and told them about his impending death. Theologian, David Lose, reminds us that “the eighth day, after a seven-day week, came very quickly in Christian tradition to refer to Sunday, the day of resurrection and worship, the first day of a new week and a whole new era.”  Consequently, Luke is very intentional when he tells us that Jesus chooses to climb this mountain to pray and be in communion with God on the eighth day.  In the early Christian church, the eighth day represented something totally new, God was about the business of doing a new thing.

Anyway, in the face of death, Jesus is resolute in fulfilling his mission as he takes three of his disciples and climbs the mountain to commune with God.  And, after recently hearing all that talk about death, I am sure the disciples are really wondering just what Jesus is now up to as he drags them along on this mountain climbing mission. Once at the top, the disciples find themselves feeling more than a bit tired.  In fact, as Jesus’ starts praying, Luke tells us Peter and his companions were weighed down with sleep. Then, through the haze of heavy eyes, they see something astounding. Suddenly, Jesus stands in dazzling, radiant light and his ancestor friends, Moses and Elijah, join him appearing “in glory.”  It is a surreal, dazzling flashpoint that embodies the law (Moses), the prophets (Elijah), and grace (Jesus, himself), all in a single moment. Jesus’ disciples who, up to this point, have been merely sleepy bystanders now witness what happens.

 Jesus is discussing with Moses and Elijah his crucifixion, his departure, his exodus from this world. As he speaks, the conversation bears witness to the redemptive mission that lies before him, the cross.  Well, the ever-dim-witted disciples are awestruck, and they then hear a voice from heaven directed to them saying, “Listen to him.”  The disciples are called to LISTEN to Jesus, and then be faithful to this unique revelation of Jesus the Christ.  Suddenly, the disciples who had viewed Jesus as just a man, a great leader who would free them from Roman rule, saw Jesus differently.  In that moment of worship, they were able to see beneath Jesus’ humanity and begin to discover the very presence, the holiness, and the glory of God.  

Following this retreat to worship – strengthened and nourished by prayer, a time of hearing God’s spoken Word and being immersed in words of the cross – they head down the mountain.  You see, they cannot stay in that place.  No one, not even Jesus can stay in that mountain-top experience.  No, they inevitably must return to the everyday world where human need is immediately present.  As they come down from the mountain, they are approached by an anguished father who wants healing for his only son.  Jesus moves from a time of worship to face a world of need that again rises before him, and he heals the boy.  

The word “transfiguration” means change and emphasizes a dramatic change in appearance, one that glorifies or exalts somebody.  As we become open to Christ’s presence, we become changed by the grace and love of Christ. I think this story has intentional, significant meaning for us as we think about worship, about what worship means for us, and the way worship changes and transforms us. Worship is that place where we hear God’s voice.  Worship is that place where we meet each other in prayer and song.  Worship is that place where we focus on the nature of grace as we experience the cross.  Worship is that place where we experience the holiness of God as we feast on God’s very life.  Worship is an experience that helps us to make sense of our lives as we connect with God while facing our own ambiguous and uncertain futures.  And then, we leave worship nourished and renewed for lives of meaning.  We leave worship equipped to face each day, even the uncertain future, with purpose as we live our lives in service to a needy, broken, deeply hurting world. God’s transforming work in our lives is explicitly not supposed to be contained in worship, kept in a building, and hidden away. God’s transforming work is about our very selves becoming changed, and then sent out into the world. When we become transformed, we then bear the transforming nature of God’s grace and love to the broken world around us. That transformational nature we bear is a love and grace that should shine through us in the way we live, and in the places where we live out our lives.

Today we come to the end of the season of Epiphany. This Wednesday we begin our journey with Jesus toward Jerusalem and follow him to the cross.  As we begin this Lenten journey, are we ready and willing to stand at the foot of the cross and be changed by the transforming power, grace, and love of Christ in the world?  

As we leave worship, we leave empowered by the experience of God’s very life and presence to us.  We leave this place equipped so that we can again enter the world of human need and make a difference in the lives of those around us. The metaphoric wheel of the wagon will again fall off at various times throughout our lives but, every time we gather to worship, we again become changed by the love of God in Jesus Christ.  Formed and transformed through worship, we become one with Christ and then live out Christ’s mission as we work to make God’s vision for this world a reality.  And, for that gift to us we say, “Praise the Lord.”

Our Old Testament reading tells us about Joseph.  Now, anytime I hear this section of the Joseph saga, I cannot help but remember the scene in Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat when Joseph reveals to his brothers who he really is. It becomes a powerful scene of forgiveness and ultimately reconciliation. Anyway, if you remember the story, Joseph’s brothers horrifically sell him into slavery. Once in Egypt, he faces false accusation and imprisonment. Then, years later he astonishingly forgives his brothers.  He forgives them for sending him into years of hardship and says, “Do not be distressed, or angry with yourselves because you sold me here; for God sent me before you to preserve life.” 

In our second reading, Paul writes to the Corinthians and talks about seeds and resurrection.  He says seeds must die before new life can grow and reminds his readers that we cannot know ahead of time what God will do with the perishable seeds we sow into the ground. I think Paul’s message connects to forgiveness. When we forgive, we let something go, we let something die, and it creates in us newness of life.  Truthfully, to be whole, we need to “die” to everything that hinders new life, and trust that God will transform our dishonor and weakness into new life. 

And then, in our reading from Luke, Jesus continues his “Sermon on the Plain” with teachings so blunt, countercultural, and challenging, we hardly know what to do with them. He says, “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.  If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and if anyone takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.  Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned.  Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”     

After studying these readings, I found myself asking, what can we say about forgiveness? When we look at the bitterness, divisiveness, and hatred in our culture, in a society that seems focused on anger and retribution, what can we say about forgiveness that has meaning for us?

I think we need to begin by saying what forgiveness is NOT.  Forgiveness is not denial.  It is not pretending that an offense doesn’t matter, or that a wound doesn’t hurt.  Forgiveness is not acting as if things don’t have to change, and it is never about allowing ourselves to be abused and mistreated because, as some would say, “God wants us to forgive and forget.” No. That is not what forgiveness is about.

Secondly, forgiveness is not a detour or a shortcut.  Yes, Christianity insists on forgiveness.  But it calls us first to mourn, to lament, to burn with zeal, and to hunger and thirst for justice.  Forgiveness works hand-in-hand with the difficult work of repentance and transformation.  In other words, forgiveness is not about responding to systemic evil with passive acceptance or unexamined complicity. No, because God desires justice.

Thirdly, forgiveness is not instantaneous, not if we are honest. Forgiveness is a process. It is a messy, non-linear process that can leave us feeling healed up and free one minute and bleeding out of every pore in our body the next.  In my experience, no one who says the words "I forgive you" escapes this messy process, and no one who struggles extra hard to forgive for reasons of temperament, situation, or trauma should feel that they're less godly or spiritual than those who don't.  If you read the whole story of Joseph, you find out that before Joseph forgave his brothers, he wrestled with a strong desire to scare and shame them.  In fact, he did scare and shame them.  Forgiveness was a process Joseph had to work through.  He had to move slowly and painfully, over time, to reach the point at which he could forgive.  There was no cathartic moment when the hurts of his past slipped off his back and rolled away.  There was only life, lived one complicated, layered day and experience at a time.

Joseph was created for goodness, just like each of us.  And just as Joseph experienced hurt, when we experience the good world being ripped away from us in any way, it is appropriate, it is human and even healthy, to react with horror.  One of the great gifts of Christianity is that it takes sin and sin’s consequences seriously.  Sin wounds.  Sin breaks. Sin echoes down the ages through families and systems.  And so, forgiveness isn't an escalator.  It is more like a spiral staircase.  We circle around, again and again, trying to create distance between the pain we’ve suffered and the new life we seek, and slowly our perspective changes.  Slowly, the ground of our pain falls away, and slowly we rise to new life. 

So, if forgiveness is NOT denial, NOT a detour, and NOT something that quickly takes place, what is forgiveness? What is Jesus asking of us when he tells us to love, bless, pray, give, lend, do good, withhold judgment, extend mercy, and turn the other cheek?

Nora Gallagher writes, “Forgiveness is a way to unburden oneself from the constant pressure of rewriting the past.”  Wow!  Think about that.  Forgiveness is really a gift we give ourselves.  Henri Nouwen writes, “Forgiveness is the name of love practiced among people who love poorly. The hard truth is that all people love poorly, and so we need to forgive and be forgiven every day, every hour increasingly. Forgiveness is the great work of love among the fellowship of the weak that is the human family."

Forgiveness is choosing to love instead of living a life of resentment. You see, if we are consumed with our own pain, if we make injury and hurt our identity, if we insist on weaponizing our so-called well-deserved anger as we interact with people who hurt us, it is like drinking poison, and the poison will kill us long before it does anything to our abusers. To choose forgiveness is to release ourselves from the tyranny of bitterness. It is to give up our frantic longing to be justified by anyone other than God.  

Forgiveness is something that transforms us and transforms our way of seeing.  When Joseph forgives his brothers, he reframes the horrible events of his life to include the redemptive work of God.  He says, “God sent me before you to preserve life.”  To be clear: this does NOT mean that God willed Joseph’s brothers to abuse and abandon him.  Abuse is never God’s will or plan for any person in this world.  Rather, what Joseph is saying is that God is always and everywhere in the business of taking our worst experiences, working through them, and transforming them into wholeness and blessing within our lives. Because God is with us and God is in the story, we can rest assured that God will bring forth new life.  There will be another turn, another path, and more grace.  As we think about Lent beginning next week, we see how true this is as God transforms Jesus’ death on a cross and brings forth resurrected life.

 When we forgive, we forgive out of God’s amazing abundance of grace to us, and we become changed. We become freed from bondage and God works to bring forth new life.  I love the way Nadia Bolz Weber describes this aspect of forgiveness. She writes:

Maybe retaliation or holding onto anger about the harm done to me doesn’t actually combat evil. Maybe it feeds it.  Because in the end, if we’re not careful, we can actually absorb the worst of our enemy, and at some level, start to become them.  So, what if forgiveness, rather than being a pansy way to say, “It’s okay,” is actually a way of wielding bolt-cutters, and snapping the chains that link us?  What if it’s saying, “What you did was so not okay, I refuse to be connected to it anymore.” Forgiveness is about being a freedom fighter.  And free people are dangerous people.  Free people aren’t controlled by the past. Free people laugh more than others. Free people see beauty where others do not.  Free people are not easily offended. Free people are unafraid to speak truth to stupid.  Free people are not chained to resentments. And that’s worth fighting for.

Today, Jesus is again giving us a word that brings healing, wholeness, transformation, and liberation as he teaches about forgiveness.  Jesus is always calling us to forgive so that we loosen the chains that bind us, and live into God’s transformational, life-giving word.

Before we begin to look at what Jesus is saying, it is important that we understand what the word “blessing” means as used here in scripture.  The Greek word for “blessing” ascribed to Jesus in these Beatitudes is makarios.  This word means “happy” or “favor.” In Christian scriptures, the word specifically means God’s favor, often called “grace.”  So, what Jesus is saying is “Favored are the poor, God’s grace is theirs.”  He is not saying “Be happy for poverty.”  Essentially, he is saying to the people, “God privileges the poor.  If you are poor, you are favored by God.  God’s gifts are with you.”  As one commentator puts it, “The elite in God's kingdom, the blessed ones, are those who are at the bottom of the heap of humanity.”  In the culture of that time, this was shocking, and I must say it is still shocking in our time. Jesus turns things upside down and drives home some topsy-turvy news regarding the order of things in God’s kingdom.  

Jesus is speaking directly to the disciples and each one of us as he invites us into his holy venture to live out our faith. Jesus is not describing an ideological agenda or a political platform.  He does not provide us with an abstract or empty definition of discipleship.  He is not listing for us qualifications describing some “how to” method to get into heaven.  Jesus is describing a vision of God’s reign which he totally and completely embodies.  What he is doing is calling all of us to become faithful and effective agents of God’s reign right here and right now.  And, quite frankly, for those of us who live in middle class America, his words are so very challenging.  The “rules of engagement” of Jesus’ reign stand in sharp contrast to the presumed rights of the prosperous as he talks about wealth, abundant food, the good stuff of life and all that we consider blessings.  Jesus’ words and vision are simply at odds with the way things are in our lives and in the world.  Jesus knows that we are possessed by our possessions and the so called “blessings” we feel we have and enjoy.  Theologian, Diana Butler Bass, when talking about this passage, says that most people think of blessings in this way: 

Blessed are the rich, for they own the best stuff.  Blessed are the sexy and glamorous, for everyone desires them.  Blessed are the powerful, for they control the kingdoms of the earth.  Blessed are those who get everything they ever wanted; they alone will be satisfied.  Blessed are the famous, for their reward is eternal life.  Money, beauty, power, achievement, and fame – we hold these things in esteem.  If only we had them, or just one of them, we would be blessed.  (Grateful: The Transformative Power of Giving Thanks, pl 140.)

Yes, these aspects of life are what we tend to name as “blessings.”   But, Jesus sees these as characteristics of the lost and proclaims woe to any of us who find ourselves looking at life in this way.  By proclaiming woe to this way of life, Jesus announces the evil and injustice in our way of living and thinking.  Jesus says the poor and the hungry are the ones who are blessed or favored, for their fortunes are going to be reversed.  He says, “Are you weeping?  You are blessed because you will laugh.  Do people hate, exclude, and revile you on account of the Son of Man?  Jump for joy, for your reward is great in heaven; their grandparents hated and excluded the prophets too.”  Jesus is saying God is not impressed with what we consider blessings.  In fact, all that we consider “blessings” misrepresents his message.  Oh, yes, Jesus is again turning this world, our thinking, and even our conventional assumptions about religion upside down.  Jesus blesses those who suffer, and he curses those whose wealth, comfort, and prestige are built upon exploiting that same suffering.  

Now, quite honestly, as we live in the cushioned environment of our so called “blessings,” many of us would probably say, “I am not poor, but I identify with the poor,” or “I work with the poor,” or maybe even “I send money to the poor, I care about the poor.”  We might even want to quibble about the definition of “poor,” or “hungry” or “weeping.”  Surely, we the faithful, are among the blessed.   So, if we are honest with ourselves, we need to ask, “If we are not the poor, the hungry, the weeping, or the excluded, what are we to hear from this so-called “good news?”  Pastor Laura Sugg, when thinking about this question, suggests:

Again, remember Jesus first sermon. Luke’s Jesus is fulfilling God’s compassion for the oppressed.  In that first sermon, Jesus’ first words to people in Luke’s Gospel repeat the words from Isaiah: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to bring good news to the poor.” (4:18a) Throughout Luke’s Gospel, Jesus lives this out these words by talking with those on the margins, challenging the status quo, and convicting those who feel certain they are righteous.  (Feasting on the Word, p. 240.)

The kingdom of God that Jesus embodies is not some abstract theological term about a time and place the world has never known.  Jesus is calling us to be faithful agents of God’s reign right here and right now.  God’s kingdom, God’s reign, breaks through when we love our enemies.  It takes hold when we do good to those who hate us.  It comes alive when we bless those who curse us.  It shines brightly when we pray for those who abuse or mistreat us.  It shows up when we honor the request of the beggars and work to change the economic structure that creates injustice.  When we live our lives by the principle of “do unto others as you would have them do to you,” and when we love all others as God calls us to love, we truly live out our citizenship in God’s kingdom and bear witness to God’s reign.  

I must say, living this kind of life is not easy.  In fact, it is very difficult. It is the way of the cross.  It means we must become vulnerable and that is a condition most of us would rather avoid.  But Jesus is always unsettling us and, as he tells us that the order of things in God’s rule is reversed, we discover that life with God means knowing what poverty and hunger and sorrow and being cursed look like.  It means knowing how it feels to be overlooked and discounted.  It means knowing what it is like to be hated.  And it means living in solidarity all others and admitting our total dependence upon God.  When Jesus said, “Blessed are the poor,” he upended and overturned the politics of blessing.  He preached blessings were more than happiness.  They were a social vision showing what God desires for the world. And, as New Testament scholar, Luke Timothy Johnson says, this vision is indeed the great theme of Luke’s entire gospel. Mary first articulates this vision when she finds out she will give birth to a son, and Jesus then claims his mission, lives it, and lives into that social vision throughout his entire ministry.  Professor Johnson writes:

God reverses human status and perception: in a downward movement, [God] scatters the arrogant, pulls down the mighty, sends the rich away empty. But God also, in an upward movement, exalts the lowly, fills the hungry, and takes the hand of [the poor]. Precisely such a reversal is announced by Jesus in his Beatitudes, his blessings and woes, and it is enacted by him in the narrative of his entire ministry. (Gospel of Luke in the Sacra Pagina Series, Volume 3; Collegeville, Minn.: The Liturgical Press, 1991; p. 44.)

People of God, as Jesus’ disciples, we too are called to live Jesus’ 

mission and live into Jesus’ vision for the sake of this needy, hurting world.

There is a corresponding, underlying message heard in each of our scripture readings today.  All the people in today’s readings experienced a certain sense of unworthiness. In our first reading, King Uziah has just died, and Isaiah has a grand, glorious, bigger than life vision of God. As he finds himself in the presence of the greatness of God, Isaiah feels unworthy.  He says, “Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts!"  An angel then touches Isaiah’s lips with a piece of coal. When that happens, the grace of God’s holiness and the healing power of God’s presence removes Isaiah’s guilt.  Having been healed, Isaiah hears God need’s some help. God, the glorious, splendiferous, robe-clad God needs something!  Isaiah raises his hand and humbly utters the words, “Here am I, send me.”  Isaiah responds with a YES, saying he will follow God’s call.  

In our reading from 1 Corinthians, after reminding his listeners not to forget the essence of the good news of the gospel, Paul proceeds to use himself as an illustration of God’s gracious presence in life.  He says, “I am the least of the apostles, I am unfit to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God.”  Having stated his unworthiness, he then speaks of Jesus appearing to him after the resurrection, and Paul testifies to the grace and power of the resurrected Christ in his own life. Having been embraced by God’s grace, Paul said YES to God, and God worked through him to help grow the early church.

Then, as we enter today’s gospel reading, it is an early morning beside the lake of Gennesaret. As we encounter Simon and his companions, we discover they have been out fishing all night long and their efforts have been an exercise in futility. They are experiencing real fatigue after working all night and having caught nothing. They have no fish to eat, and they have no fish to sell. Quite honestly, in their fatigue, they also may be doubting their skills and capability as fishermen. Isn’t that how we tend to feel when the slow-rising tide of futility washes in on us? We don’t just begin to doubt what we can do. We begin to doubt who we are. Anyway, Jesus enters the scene and, when Jesus steps into the scene or enters any situation, everything changes!  To better address the pressing throng of people gathered around him, Jesus improvises and commandeers Simon’s boat as he speaks to the people.  After he finished speaking, Jesus says to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”  Well, Simon, feeling this effort would again be futile, answers, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet, if you say so, I will let down the nets.”  Then, to their amazement after doing what Jesus asked, they caught so many fish their nets were beginning to break. So, they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help. And they came and filled both boats to overflowing.  In fact, the writer of Luke’s gospel tells us the boats were so full they began to sink. 

As I studied this story, one thing Jesus says just really seems to jump off the page.  He says, “Put out into the deep water.” I ask you to sit with that phrase for a minute and let that phrase sink deep into your heart. “Put out into the deep water.” When we are feeling swamped by a sense of futility, swamped by the issues of this pandemic, swamped by the challenges life presents, just maybe we need to go deeper in the waters of faith.  Jesus invites us to look out upon our life from a different viewpoint.  Jesus says to Simon Peter, “Take some risks.”  Simon’s initial reply is that of a very rational mind as he states why he does not think it makes sense to go out in the deep. However, he trusts Jesus and he does it anyway!  Just maybe, Jesus is trying to get Simon and his friends to move from a worldview of reason to a worldview of spiritual risk.  Most of us have a worldview of scarcity and, consequently, we don’t go outside of our comfort zones.  We don’t tend to be spiritual entrepreneurs; we stick with business as usual.  Yet, Jesus invites us to launch out to deeper waters, where much is often invisible, where there is a real element of uncertainty.  The truth is, we prefer shallow waters where there is nothing new, where there is certainty and quite frankly, safety. Well, Simon took the risk, and they found an abundance of fish, so much so that they filled two boats.  And then Simon Peter responds as most people do when they are in the presence of greatness – he encounters a sense of fear and good self-questioning. And Simon Peter says, “Depart from me, I am a sinful man.” 

It is interesting, when I have found myself in deep waters, in situations where I have truly felt I was in over my head, I have had to look at myself. When I have been in deep waters, I have had to do some good self-questioning. Truthfully, those deep waters often mean facing the cross.  But, at the same time, I have discovered that the abundant, gracious presence of God has held me and buoyed me in that place, carried me through, and taken me to new places. You see, God who is the author of abundance and grace holds us, lifts us up, and carries us through.

In the presence of such abundance, Simon feels unworthy and afraid.  Jesus then says to Simon, “Do not be afraid!”  Now, it is important to remember this phrase – do not be afraid – is the single most common phrase in the entire Bible. Think about that. Yet, most of us are very fear-based people.  But, God says, don’t be afraid. Jesus tells Simon Peter “Don’t be afraid of who you are, don’t be afraid to face yourself, don’t be afraid of what you have just done.  Don’t be afraid of taking a risk. Don’t be afraid of what lies before you. Don’t be afraid of trusting God’s presence to you.  The God of abundant grace holds you in love. From now on you will know how to catch people and share my love.  And, you will do this, not by coercing or luring, or even being nice, but by being real, by taking a risk and being vulnerable.  Then, you will truly connect with people, and you will share the love I have for you and all others.”  

Jesus called Simon to follow him. Simon Peter responded with a YES, and his life was forever changed. Luke tells us, “They left everything and followed him!” Jesus called Simon to a life of deep faith, to something bigger than anything he’d ever imagined. And Jesus gave Simon Peter the job of catching people up in the unfathomable, life-changing grace of God.  

The voice of God called Isaiah, St. Paul, and Simon Peter, unlikely characters that they were. That is how God works, I very well know, always choosing and calling the unlikeliest of characters through whom to work, putting aside all their doubts and fears and excuses and professed shortcomings to do marvelous things through them. That voice of abundance and grace also calls each one of us.  That voice calls us to move out into the deep grace-filled waters of a life of faith.  Moving out into the deep grace-filled waters will not always be easy.  It will likely unsettle us and sometimes it will look like a cross.  But, when we follow that call and say YES, we will experience a life of deep meaning, life that really, truly matters, and life will never again be the same.