The Deep Water (sermon by General Presbyter Dan Schomer, November 1, 2009)

Luke 5:1-11

When I was a small child, I learned the dangers of deep water. I was a preschooler and, like most small children, I wasn’t terribly conscious of my surroundings. In the midst of playing on a boat dock, I apparently stepped off and fell into water that was well over my head. To the best of my recollection, my whole life passed before my eyes. Given my age, that didn’t take very long; but before I got to the end of my life story, my father had reached down and pulled me out of the water blubbering and sputtering. During the remainder of my childhood, I was not at all fond of docks, boats, and water that was over my head. But as I grew older and learned to swim, I learned that deep water offered adventures that were simply unavailable in the shallows.

The text from Luke 5 begins with a sense of the familiar. A group of fishermen are washing their nets after a long night of fishing. It was a routine they had carried out daily for many years. It felt right and it felt comfortable. Routines are like that. Familiarity and normalcy help us feel safe and secure.

When Jesus asked Simon Peter to take him a little way off the shore of the lake so that he could use the boat as his pulpit, it added a little adventure to the day. Jesus sat down in the boat and taught the people who had gathered on the shore. As Peter listened, his heart and mind must have danced. How wonderful were Jesus’ words. How wise were his teachings. Jesus had given this hard-working fisherman much to think about. But Peter was still in the shallows.

Congregations are often faced with the temptation of staying in the shallows. Worship that is uplifting, comforting and familiar is well received; but let the sermon become too challenging or the music move too far out of people’s comfort zones, and the session is likely to hear about.
Speak of the generosity and grace of God and there will be smiles all around; but move on to suggest that our response to God’s generosity is to be generous in our giving of time, talents, and, yes, money, and a few frowns may develop. Suggesting that the church needs to meet the needs of its members will gain many nods; but suggest that the church is called to reach out to people who aren’t just like us, and there will be some squirming in the pews. We start in the shallows with Jesus. He is our source of comfort and security. He does provide generously for us. But Jesus is not content to stay in the shallows for long.

When he had finished teaching, Jesus turned to Simon Peter and said, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch”…which must have been a real surprise to Peter.
After all, who was the preacher and who was the fisherman? Peter knew the best time to let down your nets for a healthy catch and this wasn’t it. Peter and his partners had fished all night and come up empty.

Sound familiar? How many times is a ministry not attempted because someone warns, “We tried that before and it didn’t work.” The deep waters look kind of risky. We’ve had bad experiences out there. Everyone will feel a lot better if we just stay in the shallows.

There may be times when the church is open to risk-taking, but this isn’t one of those times. We live in a time of rapid change and many of these changes challenge our fundamental values. Peter Steinke, well known for his application of family systems to the life of the church, indicates that rapid change tends to breed anxious congregations. The more anxious congregations becomes, the more people crave familiarity and certainty. And the more anxious the church becomes, the less likely it is that risk taking will be attempted. When Darryl Royal was the coach of the University of Texas Longhorns, he developed one of the best rushing offenses in the country. Royal was famous for saying, “When you throw the ball three things can happen, and two of them are bad.” When we are anxious, when we focus on our own comfort and security, we tend to exaggerate the risks and diminish the possibilities that can be discovered by venturing out into the deep water.

Of course, Simon Peter could have brought this story to an abrupt end. He could have turned to Jesus and said, “Rabbi, you are no doubt a great preacher, but you are a lousy fisherman.” He could have rowed back to shore, bid Jesus farewell, and headed off to his bed to catch a little sleep before another night of fishing. And that would have been the end of the story…a story not worth telling in the pages of Scripture.

But motivated by little more than respect for Jesus, Simon Peter half-heartedly did move out to the deep water and let down the nets. Now things get exciting. The net is filled to overflowing with fish. Simon Peter calls his partners to come and help. Simon falls to his knees in awe at the power of God revealed in Jesus. And Jesus commissions Peter and his partners to go into a new kind of fishing business. But it begins with a little risk taking by one who at least shows enough faith to put out into the deep waters.

So what do the deeps waters look like for Presbyterian Churches today? Let’s be honest—they look scary. We have no desire to get in over our heads. Risk taking means that we cannot be in total control of what happens. Add to all this the rapid changes with which we have been confronted, and no one would blame us for staying in the shallows. Except, we don’t find Jesus in the shallows.

Brian McLaren, a leading spokesperson for the emergent church movement, calls the contemporary church into the deep waters by encouraging a radical faith that takes the example of Jesus seriously. In his book Everything Must Change, McLaren reminds us where we find Jesus and with whom he associated throughout his ministry. Jesus was an agent of change and transformation, confronting the religious community of his day and advocating for those on the fringes who were either rejected or forgotten. That sounds like deep water.

Diana Butler Bass in her book Christianity for the Rest of Us speaks to mainline denominational churches that seek to relate to the world around them in new and vital ways. Bass encourages churches to celebrate and learn from their heritage while also developing a deep spirituality. One of the primary characteristics of a vital church, according to Bass is hospitality. Bass writes, True Christian hospitality is not a recruitment strategy designed to manipulate strangers into church membership. Rather, it is a central practice of the Christian faith—something Christians are called to do for the sake of that thing itself…Christians welcome strangers as we ourselves have been welcomed into God through the love of Jesus Christ. Through hospitality, Christians imitate God’s welcome. Again, that sounds like deep water.

So what do the deep waters look like for the Firestone Park Presbyterian Church? That’s something that you are best equipped to discover for yourselves. I say that because ministry today is radically contextual. There is no one-size-fits-all ministry these days. Today effective ministries are those that are responsive to the needs of the community surrounding the church. Those who live in the community and know the community are best equipped to develop ministries to and with the community. But, if Jesus was to walk the streets of Firestone Park, Akron, where would we likely find him? Would you find him across the street at the park shooting baskets with some teens, telling stories to children, or listening sympathetically to a single parent that is at the end of here rope? It’s hard for me as an outsider to guess where Jesus would be. But this much I know--We would find Jesus with the people with whom we often do not associate. That’s why we call it deep water.

When I was a boy growing up in the First Methodist Church in Butler, Pa., one of the highlights throughout the year was when foreign missionaries would come to speak. I would listen attentively, captivated by these brave people of remarkable faith who would sooner laugh in the face of death than abandon their mission to bring the good news of Jesus Christ to the four corners of the earth. Now, we are the missionaries called into the mission field that, in your case, is called Firestone Park. There are plenty of people out there who are not just like us and the challenges we face require courage. But that’s where Jesus calls us to be, out there, demonstrating the good news of God’s love through Jesus Christ.

I didn’t learn to swim until I was 11-years-old. I stuck around the shallow end of the pool while my friends were doing cannonballs in the deep end. I practiced swimming—putting my face in the water, kicking my feet, and making my hands go. Then, one day, I took the risk of walking down to the deep end where my feet couldn’t touch and the water was well over my head…and I jumped in. That was a day of joy and freedom that I will never forget.

Put out into the deep water!