We are living in a time when being the church is not easy. Quite frankly, being the church is increasingly difficult and, across the board, we find more and more people leaving the church. As faith communities, we are having to learn some new ways of being together. We truly need to seek out and re-ground as people of faith because our lives are filled with countless distractions. The church, along with multiple public institutions, is experiencing a massive shift within culture. That shift affects participation on many levels and there are likely multiple reasons for this shift. It is as though we are living at a pivot point in time. We know some of the ways we have done things aren’t working as they used to, but we are not yet sure what the next thing will look like. Certain events in our lives also create these shifts or pivot points in time. These are moments that divide time, a point from which things will never be the same again. And, quite frankly, such moments often create a sense of fear and moving forward often seems risky. However, such times of change can beckon us to a deeper place in life, a place where we are called to live more faithfully, a place where we truly begin to get beyond ourselves, let go of our self-centeredness and live for others.
In our first reading today, we find the prophet Isaiah had one of these pivotal moments, a moment that defined the rest of his life. He was in the temple and he experienced something so life changing it was as though he was born anew. For Isaiah, that pivotal moment came when he had a vision in which he saw God in such grandeur and glory, that the hem of God’s garment filled the entire temple. Just think about it. Isaiah saw God as so transcendent, glorious and enormous that only the hem of God’s garment could be seen. Imagine how much more could not be seen. For Isaiah, that moment of experiencing God’s presence and grandeur, God’s regal brilliance and transcendence, was a moment of call, a decisive moment that defined the rest of his life.
In that moment, Isaiah began to see that God is inexpressibly bigger than our human minds can even begin to imagine. Witnessing the glory of God and feeling engulfed in the song of holiness praising God, Isaiah found himself feeling lost, unclean and unworthy. As he confessed his inadequacy, his lips were touched with a burning coal. And, in that moment God spoke, touched Isaiah’s lips with purifying fire, and the grace of God’s holiness and the healing power of God’s presence removed Isaiah’s guilt. Isaiah was forever changed. Having been healed, Isaiah hears God’s need for some help. How startling! God, the ominous, robe-clad, glorious one needs something! Isaiah raises his hand and humbly utters the words, “Here am I, send me.”
This was a pivot point in Isaiah’s life, an experience after which nothing would ever again be the same. This life changing, call experience is not only found in our first reading. It is also seen in today’s gospel passage from Luke. Peter and his colleagues are at the water’s edge, feeling discouraged as they clean their fishing nets. Having worked all night long and having caught nothing, they are experiencing much fatigue. In the depth of that dismal experience, Jesus enters the scene and Peter has an encounter that is pivotal and life-changing.
Jesus has been teaching and healing across Judea and he now comes face to face with Peter and the other fishermen in their discouragement. To better address the pressing throng of people that have gathered around him, Jesus improvises and commandeers Peter’s boat. He tells Peter to row out into deep waters. Jesus is no fisherman, but most people who have spent any time near fishing towns along the Sea of Galilee would know that you don’t catch anything worth catching when you play it safe in shallow waters. So, Peter does as Jesus instructs and, to his great surprise, finds unexpected abundance. Peter then feels his unworthiness, he falls to his knees at Jesus’ feet and says, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” Jesus proclaims a word of grace as he tells Peter, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
And, in that grace-filled moment, suddenly and without warning, Peter found himself at the most critical crossroad of his life. He could continue with what was comfortable and remain a fisherman, or he could risk it all on the promises of this compelling prophet. He could remain in his own village and keep his same friends, or he could walk away from it all, leaving the comfortable bubble in which he had been living, and step into a new future. He could stick with the predictable or he could move into the deep waters of the unknown. Is it any wonder Luke tells us that Peter was afraid? He was afraid of making the wrong decision. He could continue his routine and eek out a living or he could shoot the moon. As we know, he chose to follow Jesus, and his life was never again the same.
I grew up imagining that when Jesus issued an invitation to the twelve disciples he intended to have as his inner circle, each one enthusiastically replied, “Yes, of course I will follow you!” However, today I doubt it. If Jesus led by persuasion and not force, if he challenged but did not coerce, I wonder how many other people were extended invitations but replied, “No thanks. My life may not be perfect, but I’m not desperate for a change. The promise of a richer life is enticing, but where’s the guarantee? I’m afraid to let loose of the security and the predictability of my routine for something unfamiliar. Granted, Jesus, you make it sound rewarding, but how can I be sure?” I wonder how many people said, “Thanks, but no thanks.” In fact, three of the gospels tell the story of a wealthy young ruler who was invited to become a follower of Jesus but turned around and walked away. I wonder how many others declined the invitation.
Over the past twenty centuries, how many people have stood at that crossroad? How many have taken the life-changing risk of turning to God, letting go of playing it safe in the shallow waters and instead follow Jesus to the places where he leads? And, how many have instead chosen to just play it safe? How many of us have really committed to following Christ, but at important junctures we have veered off course? Following Jesus entails adopting his agenda, which to some people sounds threatening or even scary. However, when we adopt Jesus’ agenda, it does not mean giving up fun for something boring; giving up excitement for dreariness or spontaneity for rigidity. It means looking outward rather than inward; it means following his way rather than responding to selfish impulses. It means going to the places where Jesus goes, living for others and not safely staying within the confines of a church building or the safety bubble in which you live!
I once saw a cartoon in the New Yorker that showed two attractive people sitting at a table in a coffee shop. The man is saying to the woman, “I’ve tried a lot of strategies, and I’ve discovered that being completely self-serving is the strategy that works best for me.” There is an “It’s all about me” way of thinking that permeates our society today. Regrettably, it fails to see that self-centeredness cuts you off from others, limits your vision and restricts your possibilities. Self-centeredness is blind to the rewards that ensue from making a sacrifice for another and really loving all others. It does not understand the genuine well-being that emerges from being grateful to God for the blessings of life. It never experiences the power of forgiveness and transformation. It cannot fathom the satisfaction that is derived from making a commitment to something greater than yourself.
We live in an age where most people shy away from commitments. Yet, people long for a better marriage, hunger for stronger friendships, ache for a purpose in their lives and pray for a sense of harmony with God – all of which only derive from making commitments. Like Peter, are you afraid of the changes that might ensue if you fully commit to following Christ wherever he leads? I challenge you to risk and move out more deeply into the grace-filled waters of a life of faith. You will experience a life of deep meaning, life that really, truly matters, and life will never again be the same.