Push Out into Deep Water {Luke 5: 1-11, MSG}
Once when he was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the Word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd.
When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.”
Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch.
Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon.
Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him.
We talked through this passage at a small group meeting on Friday, and it solidified what I wanted to write about this month.
When a group of believers gather together, every single person can pull something slightly different from the same text, and I love that! Perspective reminds me of a collection of beautiful fabrics, much like the ones in my mother's sewing closet. While each is unique and beautiful in its own right, we find that when a piece of our material is clipped away and shared with others, stitched together as we bare witness to the very stories and experiences that have woven together the fabric of our being, it can become a breathtaking glimpse of the bigger picture of humanity that binds us together. And in that organic creation, the quilt gives us a clearer reflection of the Creator Himself.
We took turns sharing what we were thankful for that week and also what was stressing us out, and my answer was one and the same: my family. Funny how that works sometimes.
After we read the passage above, the first thing I noticed was the power of His timing--how they had been fishing all day and caught nothing, but when Jesus spoke the word, the net was so full of fish they couldn't even pull it up themselves. He's a God of abundance in His time.
But then, as I sat with the passage, letting it marinate a little in my soul, the interaction between Simon Peter and Jesus began to stick out. Probably because it was a challenging week with the children and obedience, exasperated by the fact that I didn't go to bed at a decent hour most days. We tend to see life through our lenses of gratitude and stress.
“Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.”
I know that tone, I thought to myself, because I hear it from my kids everyday.
It's the whole, mom, I think what you're asking me to do is completely stupid and I don't want to do it, kind of attitude.
The, I shouldn't have to do it, and I know better than you, eye-roll.
But if you insist, I guess I'll do it anyways, because you're making me. And so I don't get a consequence. Complete with foot stomping and a WHATEVER.
Girl, please. Momma don't play.
So, I started to wonder... Is homeboy being....sassy???
I don't know if that's the right word for a grown man, but he was being something.
Prideful.
Honestly, it would take a lot of humility for him to defer to someone else when his life's work is being a fisherman. When he spends his days out on a boat with those very nets and knows the best places and times to catch the most fish. And homeboy was simply saying, dude, this ain't it. Respectfully, Jesus, Sir.
But as soon as Simon Peter obeyed, the nets were as overwhelmed with fish as his heart was with repentance and awe. It became clear to me that it wasn't obedience Jesus was after all along--it was his heart. A humble heart: one filled with pervasive, all-of-life-repentance and the fear of the Lord. A heart that is capable of abiding in Him and existing in the close relationship He desires to maintain with us, if we are willing.
Tim Keller writes,
"...the more we feel accepted and loved in the gospel, the more and more often we will be repenting. Although there is some bitterness in any repentance, in the gospel there is ultimately a sweetness. This creates a radical new dynamic for personal growth. The more we see our own flaws and sins, the more precious, electrifying, and amazing God’s grace appears to us. On the other hand, the more aware we are of God’s grace and our acceptance in Christ, the more able we are to drop our denials and self-defenses and admit the true dimensions of our sin. The sin underlying all other sins is a lack of joy in Christ."
Repentance not only gives us a sobering view of our sin, but it elevates God to his rightful place as Lord and Savior, rescuer of the wretched: you + me. Then we can finally begin to see rightly--through the lens of rescued + redeemed + free--and walk with Him in humility.
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This post is part of a series I’m writing for the month of October called, Walking in Humility: Learning to Abide with God in the Everyday. If you’re interested in the reading the rest of the series, you can find it here. Enjoy!