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Cast The Nets


I brought a casting net with me today. I’ve never actually used it. It came to me with a bunch of other things when my mother moved from Florida, though I’m not sure why she had it either. Have any of you ever actually tried to catch fish with a casting net? It’s hard! It’s hard to keep it from tangling. It’s hard to throw it in such a way that it spreads out, not to mention the fact that any self-respecting fish that hasn’t been caught unawares in the shallows would be startled by it.

Of course, Simon and James and John were probably using more of a dragnet, the kind you drop and pull through the water and collects indiscriminately. They had been fishing all night. They were tired, and they knew there were no fish to be had. After all, they were fishermen.

Yet, there was something about this Jesus. It wasn’t just the crowds or the rumors. No, at some point as he wandered in and around the region – probably based out of Capernaum – he had healed Simon’s Mother-in-law. So, it was pretty natural for Simon to let Jesus into his boat. Maybe he even thought it might be good for business.

Then Jesus did what he often did. He went from preachin’ to meddlin’. He told them to put their nets down in deep waters, on the other side of the boat from where they knew the fish would be if there were going to be any fish at all. I imagine that Simon’s voice had a little edge to it at that point. He was polite, calling him “Master”.

He didn’t call him, “Lord,” like he will later in the passage. He used a formal title that easily could have been something slightly sarcastic like, “OK, Chief. You da boss. Sure thing, Cap’n.” I’m sure they had to have been grumbling a bit. Who did this guy think he was? Did he have any idea how much effort goes into dropping that net?

It makes me wonder what our reaction might be if Jesus said to us, “Cast your nets on the other side!” [Member of choir stands up and says, “Oh, I know this one!” then proceeds to clang some castanets.] No. No. Just no.

Good answer though, because sometimes that is the kind of thing that we do when Jesus calls us to cast the nets on the other side. Sometimes we are less like the disciples and more like the people to whom Isaiah is called to preach. We didn’t get to that part of the reading, and we usually don’t because we don’t want to hear it.

We love to sing “Here I Am, Lord! Is it I, Lord? [blush, stammer, awkward leg movements] Could it be little ole’ me?” and that’s a good thing. It’s a good thing because our faith and our reformed tradition affirm that God does work in and through us. The trouble is that sometimes we forget what that means. Too often we forget that it’s not our actions that win the heart of God, but God’s actions that win our hearts and give us the desire to respond.

Isaiah definitely responded. He responded with fear and trembling to the presence of holiness that was about to be his undoing! The thing that we often miss about this story is that God is holy, separate, other. God is pure. Isaiah knew that his presence was not going to defile God, because it would be the other way around. He knew that he was about to become unmade. He knew that everything about him was about to be purified.

Think on that. Think on your own life. Think on what would be left if all the impurity were removed and you were boiled down to the essence of that which reflects the image of God. For Isaiah, the burning coal was used to reform his speech as a prophet. I can’t say how he was able to respond after that, but somehow he did.

Now here’s the best part. After the presence of God seems to absent-mindedly wonder who in the world might go and Isaiah sheepishly says, “Pick me!” God gives him the worst assignment ever. “Go preach sermons that nobody will care about. In fact, make them so bad that people will ignore me and will not turn and will not be saved.” 

Isaiah said, “Um, ok. How long, Lord.” and the Lord tells him to do it until there is nothing left of the people and their possessions but a stump. It sounds harsh, and it is. Some of you may also be thinking that it was pretty harsh when I said earlier that sometimes we might be like those people. You might even be thinking, “Well, if the sermon fits…”

What matters here is not that we point fingers or try to see who can be more holy. What matters is that we are being called, right here and right now, to listen to the voice of God. We are being called to navigate toward the deeper waters and cast our nets indiscriminately into areas we do not expect, except for our expectation that God will provide.

Of course, what I am telling you is nothing new. This congregation has a rich history of trying new things and responding to God’s grace. Deep down we know that all that we do is a response to the grace and mercy of Christ. Yet sometimes we hear these words, like the cry of Isaiah and the stories of Jesus, and even the confession of faith from Paul and all we hear is what we’ve always heard.

It doesn’t move us or transform us or do much more than make us feel good for being on the right track. I guess sometimes that’s enough. Maybe sometimes that’s all we can take, given all the other events in the world. Yet I have to believe that the truth of the gospel is somewhere between what we’ve always heard and what we don’t want to hear.

Sometimes we don’t want to hear that the abundance of God is not limited to the fruit of our own labor. Sometimes we don’t want to hear that the call of God is not about our worthiness. Sometimes we don’t want to recognize that grace and mercy always lead us toward restoration and hope, all because of God’s willingness to keep the whole of creation moving toward that end!

Now, what does that look like? Well, it looks like a group of children that don’t know how to fix poverty but do know how to help us love people who are poor. [They made “blessing bags” for members to hand out.] It looks like the vision of a world without hunger dreamed up by a small youth group that became a national movement called the Souper Bowl.

It looks like members of this congregation who teach and tutor underprivileged children. It looks like people we don’t even know seeking their higher power through 12 step groups in our building. It looks like a congregation that works with community members to provide food and kindness to the elderly through meals on wheels. It looks like a congregation that partners with the United Christian Outreach and Communities Uniting In Prayer and Service to help the most vulnerable who are in the greatest need.

It looks like church members selling parking spaces at Mardi Gras to give the money away to ministry partners. It looks like a choir that dedicates it’s time and talents to help lift our spirits and give us a sense of the presence of God that holds us and forms us and calls us and sends us into the world!

And we are sent for this one thing, to extend the holiness of God. We are sent out for a live catch. Matthew and Mark both say, “Fishers of people,” but Luke actually says, “to catch people.” The verb he uses can also be translated “catch them alive.”

As uncomfortable as this fishing metaphor might get, our goal here is not to tag ‘em and bag ‘em. Our goal is to be caught up in the presence of God with one another. That doesn’t mean that our goal is to get people in pews. It means our goal is to get out of the pew and go extend the holiness of God in places of greater need.

I can’t tell you what that will look like in your personal life, but I can tell you that we are constantly working it out together. I can tell you that it sometimes feels like casting a net in strange waters with no hope of return. I can tell you that sometimes it means leaving what you know in order to follow the One who offers life in abundance.

The good news in all of this is that the supernatural moment that we long for and are terrified of happens for us – or at least it can every time we consider what God revealed to us on the cross and in the empty tomb. Every time that we stop and realize that we are on holy ground – in a hospital, in a place of service, in a conversation – that makes us think, “O God, I am not worthy of this!”; every time we feel that we are in over our heads; and every time we realize that things have come together much better than anticipated, we must be willing to be unmade and remade and ready to proclaim God’s grace and mercy because of it!


This happens all the time, but sometimes we just don’t hear it or see it. Maybe it is in the call of so many activists that we hear today who are concerned for our planet, for the poor, for the injustices all around us that we rarely allow ourselves to name let alone see. Maybe it is in simple actions that express love and concern. Whatever you do, wherever you go, whoever you are with – that is the time and the place to cast your net and be caught up in the grace and mercy that holds us all, and to God be the glory for that, now and always. Amen!

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