The Eye-Rolling Moment

(sermon 2/10/19)

casting a net

Luke 5:1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

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You are an expert in something. Maybe in a number of things. It doesn’t matter who you are, how old you are, what your background is, there’s something – something about your work, or a hobby or some other interest – that your particular education, training, and life experience has made you very knowledgeable about. And having that expertise, you probably don’t have much patience when someone who knows less about that thing acts like some kind of expert who thinks you don’t know anything about it. The word “mansplaining” has become a part of our language because of this – the situation where a man feels like he has to explain something to a woman, who he assumes knows less about the subject than they do simply because she’s a woman – despite the fact that the woman often knows every bit as much, and often more, about the subject than he does. Every woman here knows that’s a real and terribly insulting thing – and honestly, the same sort of thing happens to other people in other situations, too, and it’s just as insulting.

I remember something similar back in my architecture days. My firm had years of experience across a broad range of project types. And every so often, I’d end up with a client who didn’t want to listen to the advice we offered because of that expertise. Instead, they thought they knew more about design and construction and zoning and building codes and construction law than I did, because they’d had a drafting class in high school and had build a shed in their backyard and they had a $50 CAD program on their home computer. Often when that would happen, after spending far more time than I should have to try to save them from themselves, I’d give in. I hit we could call the “eye-rolling moment.” I’d just smile, and say “OK, fine. If you want me to draw it up that way, just sign right here. And when you see it built that way in the field and you don’t like it and it has to be torn out and redone and all the plans have to be revised, I’m going to charge you more – a lot more – to redo them.” And when that happened – and it always happened – and they came back with their tail between their legs asking me to fix the mess, I’d be polite and never say “I told you so,” even though the bill to get them out of their bind said it just as well as any words would have.

It’s that eye-rolling moment that gets us to today’s gospel text. You can picture the scene. It’s a sunny morning along the Sea of Galilee, or as it’s called here, the Lake of Gennesaret. Simon, a fisherman, and a few of his buddies have come in to the shore after being out all night trying to catch a load of fish, to sell in the market that day. But they’d come up short. The whole night had been a bust for all of them. Now, all they could do was clean their nets and stow them away, and go home to catch a little shuteye before they went out again that evening.

As Simon sat there picking the seaweed and other crud out of his net, lo and behold here’s this Jesus character, this traveling preacher he’d heard about, standing there not far away from him along the shoreline, speaking to a group of people. As he talked, the crowd continued to grow, and as it did, it was gradually pushing Jesus along the shoreline, closer and closer to Simon, until Jesus was quite nearby, and he asked Simon for a favor. What? Borrow the boat to sit in, so the crowd didn’t press in too close? Sure, preacher, knock yourself out. But let’s put you out a little further down along the shore, so the crowd doesn’t bother me while I’m trying to get my work done.

Simon probably wasn’t in the best mood that morning, and who could blame him since he knew he still had a couple of hours of work to wrap up before he could get home, and he still wasn’t going to make a dime that day. Jesus was still close enough that Simon could hear bits and pieces of what he was saying while he continued to work. I wish life could be like all that, he thought to himself, but here in the real world, preacher, it just doesn’t work that way. This guy had all sorts of pie-in-the-sky ideas, but really a grown man should know better. He really should have stuck to carpentry. Maybe he wasn’t good enough of one to make a living at that, so now he’s trying this preacher angle. Who knows.

Eventually, Jesus finished up, and the crowd all went home. After getting the boat back to shore, Jesus went over to Simon and struck up a conversation. When he heard that the whole night had been a failure for him, Jesus said “You know, I think you should try one more time – maybe right out there,” he said, gesturing to a place on the water not very far out. Simon snorted and said no, I don’t think so I’m going to head home now. Jesus looked at him intently, eye to eye, and said “I really think you should try that spot right there, Simon…”

And it’s at this point that Simon hit his eye-rolling moment. Oh, sure. I’ve been fishing practically since I could crawl. I know this lake better than the back of my own hand. And now here you come, an outsider, a builder, a construction guy now turned traveling preacher, and you’re going to tell me how to fish?

He knew it wouldn’t work, and he’d just have to clean his net all over again. But Simon figured that it would be worth it to put Jesus in his place and show hm he didn’t know what he was talking about. OK preacher, hop in the boat, you’ll see.

Well, you know the rest of the story.

It seems that God must have a wicked sense of humor, because so many times in the scriptures, and so many times in people’s lives, we only become aware of the presence and power and goodness of God once we’ve been pushed to our eye-rolling moment. Maybe we just have to get to that point where there’s no logical explanation for something, there’s no way we can assume that something happened because of our own skill or expertise, before we can find God in a moment; where God can’t be missed; where God stands out from all the background noise.

Can you think of times in your life where you just knew that something wouldn’t work, where it was going to be a waste of time, a move in the wrong direction – and then, when you gave in and did that thing, like Simon did, you learned that you’d been wrong? That in fact, things didn’t go wrong, it ended up being a good idea – things ended up turning out better than you could have imagined?  I think it’s in precisely those moments – when we experience some surprising outcome after pushing through our eye-rolling moment – when our faith grows and deepens. Our personal faith grows. And when the church does the same thing, pushing through its eye-rolling moments, that’s when the church is best able to truly proclaim the gospel; when we’re proclaiming God’s good news to all people through our words and actions. In other words, that’s when the church is really evangelizing, which, of course, is how Luke concludes this particular story.

So today, I ‘d invite you to consider: what is your particular expertise? What’s your particular skill, your talent, your blessing? It’s good to take honest stock in ourselves, and know what that is – and to be grateful for it, because that expertise, that blessing, is truly a gift from God. Then, once you understand what you’re an expert in, think back over your life and consider when that expertise has helped you. And maybe even more importantly, when it’s helped others. Finally, think about when that expertise might have hurt you, or others. When it might have been an obstacle; when it might have caused a blind spot to something. Every blessing has a  shadow side to it, and we have to understand it and work to make sure that our particular blessing doesn’t become our particular curse.

Understanding that shadow side can be hard. Working to keep it from becoming a problem can be even harder. But the good news in all of this is that Christ – the very same one who stood on the shore that morning, and who loved Simon, and who admittedly used a little bit of orneriness to teach him a lesson – that same Jesus loves you and me, too, every bit as much as Simon; and he will help  us to learn when to trust in our own expertise, and when to trust God’s expertise instead.

You know, Simon originally just wanted to catch a boat full of fish. After he finally learned he could trust Jesus, and they’d caught more fish than he’d ever dreamt of, he was probably wondering if maybe he was going to need a bigger boat. If we trust Jesus the same way – pushing past our own eye-rolling moments when it comes to us living out the mission that God has for us, sharing God’s good news with others through our words and actions – we might end up wondering the same thing.

Thanks be to God.

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