An Offering of Failures

An Offering of Failures--January 11, 2018

"Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennersaret, 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 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 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 Smion. 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." [Luke 5:1-11]

Let's get any confusion out of the way: Signing on with Jesus is not an easy walk to better and better opportunities. Jesus calls to the point of exhaustion.

Sometimes, quite literally, he calls our name and points us to the very place where we feel most frustrated, most futile, and most like failures.  That is precisely what happens with a fisherman named Simon (whom we also likely know by his nickname, Rocky--well, "Peter").  Jesus calls him, with no hint of what will happen next, to the very spot where Simon Peter feels most frustrated, most futile, and most like a failure.

So let's get rid of any illusions from the get-go that being called by Jesus is your ticket to success in business, better position in the community, or higher-achieving children, and a well-behaved dog, to boot.  Let's not even assume that we will always have a warm, fuzzy, peaceful feeling about doing what Jesus' calls us to, or that we will know we are "doing it right".  None of these actually borne out by the way Jesus' actual calling of people works.

Watch the story again as it plays out here in the gospel according to Luke.  And notice how, for Simon Peter's part, he is brutally honest, and yet willing all the same, to do what Jesus calls him to do.  "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch," was the instruction, and Peter just lays it out that this feels like a pointless exercise, as well as a waste of time, energy, labor, and resources.  "Master," he says, being as polite as he can, "we have worked all night and caught nothing."  My western Pennsylvania ears cannot help but think he added under his breath, "Just saying."  But, he continues, "If you say so, I will let down the nets."

What is critical to note at this point is that nobody has made any promises of success yet, and Simon Peter's response is not based on any guarantees that this time it will be any different.  Simon Peter doesn't say, "Well, I know that you're the Son of God [he doesn't know that yet], so I know you'll make a miracle happen [he doesn't know that yet, either], so this should be easy now."  And note that Jesus, for his part, has not said, "Simon Peter, this time you'll catch something, because I am using my Messiah Magic."  Jesus just dares Simon Peter to answer his call--not even (and this is vitally important to see), not even to trust in the promise of a miracle yet... because there is no promise.

Jesus doesn't say, "I promise it will all work out and be a success in the end, despite the evidence, so just trust me more than your senses tell you."  Jesus basically says, "Do what I call you to do, regardless of whether it succeeds or not."  Jesus does not say, "Even if everybody else thinks this will end in failure, I'm your ace in the hole, and I'll make sure this project turns out right."  Rather, Jesus says, "Do what I call you to do, nothing more and nothing less.  I haven't called you to succeed by your own definition of success. I have called you be faithful."

And that--again, no more and no less--is what happens in this story.  Simon Peter doesn't get a great catch of fish because he believes in himself, or even because he trusts that Jesus will give him a great catch of fish.  No windfalls, lucky streaks, or miracles have been promised.  Rather like Schoedinger's famous imaginary cat in the box, Simon Peter has to be thinking about both possibilities at the same time: he could go out there and catch something without any indication that will be the outcome, or (the more likely outcome, by the evidence) he could go out and catch nothing. It's not a more "pious" or "devoted" perspective to expect a miracle where none has been promised.  It's not that the great catch of fish is a reward because Simon Peter had such strong faith, either. The question is simply whether Simon Peter will answer Jesus' call without knowing what will happen when he does.  

Dietrich Bonhoeffer used to say that we don't really have "faith" until we "obey."  Part of what he meant is that faith is not simply expecting the outcome you want to have happen--faith, at least in this context, is a willingness to trust the One who calls you enough to do what you are called to do, even when you don't see how it will turn out.  I have seen the slogan before, posted on supposedly inspiration plaques and pious posters and such, that says, "Faith is not believing that God can, but being certain that God will."  That line totally misses the point, honestly.  That's not how it goes with Jesus and Simon Peter--nobody tells Simon that there will be a great catch of fish, if only he'll trust it.  No, in fact, Jesus deliberately does not say what the outcome will be, other than "put your nets out for a catch." He doesn't tip his hand about the overflowing nets, or the eruption of the divine that is about to come.  When it comes to Jesus' calling, faith is not about expecting a certain outcome--it is about trusting a Person, regardless of how things play out the way we think, or hope, or wish.

Sometimes you pray for healing... and the healing doesn't come.  It doesn't mean that we aren't supposed to pray, and it doesn't mean that we didn't believe hard enough.  It means that our calling is the same as always--pray for those who are in need.

Sometimes you work really hard on something you are convinced will make the world a better place... and it crumbles before your eyes.  It doesn't mean that you weren't supposed to attempt it, and it doesn't mean that God was thwarting you.  It means that our calling is the same as always--pour yourself into what you are convinced matters, and let the chips fall where they may.

Sometimes you try and try and try to get through to someone else... and it just seems like their ears or their heart are closed off.  It doesn't mean you weren't supposed to keep speaking with love and with grace and with honesty, and it doesn't mean that God has written that person off.  It means our calling is the same as always--keep showing up and speaking like Christ.

Sometimes you see an area in your own self, your own personality, that you not only wish to improve on, but actually work quite hard on... and you slip and you mess up and you fail.  It doesn't mean that you give up on trying, and it doesn't mean that God has given up on you, either.  It means that our calling is the same as always--to let ourselves be shaped into the likeness of Christ.

How did Kipling put it?  "If you can make a heap of all your winnings, and risk it all on one turn of pitch-and-toss--And lose, and start again at your beginnings, and never breath a word about your loss..."  Following Jesus runs that kind of risk.  It did for Simon Peter, who says right out loud to Jesus, "I have been trying and trying at this and failing--and now I am not just tired, I am tired of failing!  It feels futile and pointless, if I can be honest.  But, okay, for you, Jesus, I will fail again..."

And maybe that is the key here.  It's not believing for a miracle when no miracles have been promised. It is the offer of our failure, rather than of our successes.  We are great at offering our successes to God.  We have our own heavenly Show-and-Tell over the things we do well at: "Here Jesus, look at what a good job I did on this today!  Look at how I was nice to that person today!  Look at how I served at the church this week!  Look at how my kids are doing so well in school!  Look at how well I am doing!"  We are terribly afraid of offering our failures.

But that is what Simon Peter dares to do--not by his own initiative, mind you.  He's still dog tired and embarrassed that a professional fisherman has come up empty-handed in front of the visiting rabbi.  But when Jesus calls him to offer up his failure, he does it.  He offers up his futility.  He offers up his frustration.  Now that is something for Jesus to work with.

There is a line of Richard Lischer's, from his fantastic book, The End of Words, that has stayed with me over the years.  Lischer is writing about the difference between a "profession" and a "vocation"--that is, a calling.  He writes that the thing about a real vocation is that “you have to die to enter a vocation” It is something that “calls you away from what you thought was best in you, purifies it, and promises to make you something or someone you are not yet."  We usually assume that Jesus calls us to something that we are good at, or where our best talents can shine, where we can reflect God's glory by turning our raw ability into success after shining success.  But that is not how it goes for Simon Peter... and honestly, maybe that is never how it goes.  Instead, the place Jesus calls Simon Peter is the point of surrendering what he thought he was good at, and letting Jesus use the willingness to offer failure. 

Only at that point does Jesus extend the real call: "Now you'll be fishing for people."  Only at the point where Simon Peter is kneed deep in failure, futility, and frustration, can Jesus use him.  The folks who just want to use Jesus as their divine power-source for success on their own agendas or dreams are missing the point.  Jesus can only use us, any of us, at the point of our exhaustion--the place at which I am fully spent, the point at which I run out of "me" to brag about, and where all I have is my empty hands.

Where, honestly, is Jesus calling you on this day?

Lord Jesus, call us where you will, and give us the grace to offer you our failures and frustrations rather than just trying to show off our success.