Oh, The Places We'll Go!

The Fifth Sunday of Ordinary Time

First Reading: Is 6:1-2a, 3-8, the Call of Isaiah
Second Reading: 1 Cor 15:1-11, Paul's work
Gospel: Lk 5:1-11, the Call of Peter


Isn't it funny the way God calls people?

Jesus shows up on the shore of Gennesaret asking to use Peter's boat despite the fact that Peter is no doubt haggard, filthy, worn out and probably otherwise in a pretty foul mood after a long night of fruitless and frustrating hard work. Peter's a good guy though; sure, he says, anything for the preacher. Which of us wouldn't do the same, or at least want to do the same? We all do nice, decent, helpful things, even for complete strangers. Nothing earth-shattering about that. And I suspect that if Jesus came and asked to use my boat, or my car--if I had one--or my classroom or pulpit or my office, I'd probably do the same; I might grumble a bit to myself,but I'd certainly say, "Sure, be my guest." And then I'd wait patiently until he was done so I could get back to work and on with my life.

But this is not a story about what Peter, the nice guy, did for Jesus. It is about what Jesus did for Peter. And he did a lot, even in this one short story.

First, he got in Peter's boat. Now that may not seem like such a big deal, but did you ever think what it would be like to have the God of all creation, the Lord of heaven and earth, come down and get in your boat? It's a little mind-blowing, really. For one thing, my boat--my figurative boat, since I don't have a real one--is not all that great. I try to keep it sort of clean. But it's not a yacht or anything, just a fishing boat, just the boat I need for my job and my journeys. For another, there's not a whole lot of room; if God gets in my boat, he's going to be awfully close--maybe too close for my comfort. And I am pretty territorial; I don't like people infringing too much on or into my space. Good grief, if God gets in my boat, he might want to borrow my fishing rod. Or grab some of my coffee. Or talk.

Secondly, Jesus shows Peter who he really is. Peter knows Jesus is okay; Jesus had after all healed his mother-in-law (I will prescind from any mother-in-law jokes here). And Peter knows he is a preacher, maybe even that he is a very good preacher. And no doubt he has some regard for Jesus. But that is different that knowing who he really is, and this is what Jesus really wants for Peter. He is not just trying to pay Peter back for using his boat, nor is he trying to help him out after a really bad night. Jesus wants Peter to know the truth.

But, as they say, there are two sides to every story, and if Peter now knows the truth about Jesus, he also has to face a truth about himself, namely that he really is not worthy of this. Peter is not worthy of having God--you know: the God of all creation, the Lord of heaven and earth--in his boat. None of us are. And that's why he responds as he does: "Go away," he says; "Go away. I am a sinful man." I don't think that admission comes easily to Peter; he probably tries to be a pretty good guy most of the time, like most of us do. But he is probably not the paragon of virtue, maybe not even all that religious, and certainly not holy! To be honest about his own unworthiness has got to be tough. But you know, it is also the truth, and this is another thing Jesus does for Peter: he helps him to face the truth about himself, a truth that a lot of us have a hard time with--the fact that for all our good intentions and even our good actions, we can be pretty rotten underneath; we really can be sinful. To face that is to acknowledge that we are not worthy of God. That is a hard truth, but it is a true truth, so to speak, and one that is really necessary if we are going to accept that God's love for what it really is--love.

And it is that love that is really the point of the story--Jesus' love for Peter. As I mentioned above, if Jesus got in my boat, I would be helpful, and when Jesus was done, I would get back to work and on with my life. That is precisely what does not happen here. When Jesus gets out of Peter's boat, he does not let Peter "get back to work and on with his life." No, he takes Peter with him. And Peter's life is never going to be the same. As that wonderful title from Dr. Suess read: Oh, The Places You'll Go! That could be the story of Peter's life.

Well, the truth is, God has done the pretty much same for each of us, just as he did for Peter, for Isaiah, for Paul. He has gotten into our boat...by becoming human. We may not be ready for that; like Peter we might be haggard, filthy, worn and probably otherwise in a pretty foul mood. We may not really like it--it is, after all, not a very Godly thing of God to do--and it might make us a little uncomfortable. And we may not even want it; we might have to change or something! But he has, and that's just the fact of it. And he has no intention of leaving and letting us get back to our work and on with our lives. No, he intends to take us with him (Jn 17:24). He wants us to come fishing--his kind of fishing--so that he can catch us.

Why would he want to do that? Well, perhaps from the perspective of God, the alternative would be to leave us alone in our boats--cold, tired, frustrated, in a foul mood, and still fishless.  He made us with so much more in mind.

AMDG