Sermon by Rev Sydney Maitland for Sunday 9 February 2025.
Duccio di Buoninsegna: Appearance on Lake Tiberias, painted 1308-1311 (Source)
• First Reading: Isaiah 6: 1-13 (Isaiah’s Commission)
• Epistle: 1 Corinthians 15: 1-11 (Paul’s message – his call and work)
• Gospel: Luke 5: 1-11 (Jesus Calls His first disciples)
We all have our own likes and dislikes, habits of life, preferences in politics, the arts and relations with other people. We have our own homes and occupations, families and friends, interests and pastimes.
And then things can change. Somehow our life does not quite belong to us as once it did. There are commitments, jobs to be done, livings to be earned. Leaving home to start our own lives of work is definitely one point of departure from what we had known before. So is marriage.
And already our view of things begins to change.
And what is true in daily life is even more so in the life of faith. For this is a life which runs with an inner clock. There are inner motivations, priorities, and our life with God has its own power and rhythm.
Prayer is not only that of the church and within our services. It is also the way we express ourselves in speaking with God. Even more so, the way we listen and find how our prayers are heard.
And this really is a journey of discovery. It is there in our reading and reflections, our responses to the world around us, and the more we engage with our surroundings, then the more we find that we are speaking to God about them.
So far this is all about how we see and understand things. There is a certain amount of Me! Me! Me! about it all.
But then there is another perspective which breaks into our thinking and this is the voice of God.
A voice that speaks through scripture and the psalms and gospels; it is there in the hymns we sing and the thoughts of the people we meet. It is there in music, poetry and painting.
It is a voice that we do not control and which has opinions of its own. It has its own priorities, timescales and perspectives. It is there in the silence of our own hearts – when we give it the opportunity to express itself. The thought from no-where, the line in a hymn or from scripture: how they come to life in us.
And all of this is utterly normal.
But then it can change gear. For Isaiah, a priest in the temple in Jerusalem, God broke into his routine. The world of Isaiah was turned upside down, finding to his astonishment not only how real God was, but that the scale and majesty of His realm far exceeded anything Isaiah could ever have heard of or imagined.
This was a place of the utter and total reality of God.
His majesty ruled and there was no room for negotiation or compromise with His complete holiness and righteousness. It was a realm of absolutes, and there was no question balance, of yang and yin, good and evil, sweet and sour, light and dark, smooth and rough.
What God was and said and did overruled all else in the universe and anything less than His perfect being and will was sin: there would be no discussion or expression of alternative points of view. Certainly not on this matter.
All this, Isaiah took in a matter of seconds. He became aware of his own personal unworthiness in the presence of God, and yet here was God speaking to heaven in general and Isaiah in particular. ‘Whom shall I send and who will go for Me?’
This was rather like one of those questions we get asked at home: ‘Would you like to do some chore?’ and ‘No’ is not the correct answer.
And so Isaiah was never the same again.
For Simon and Andrew, James and John, there was no glorious vison like Isaiah’s. More a long and tedious night of frustration. For all the effort made, nothing taken, nothing to land and sell. Nothing to put on the table and keep the rent and tax collectors quiet.
Instead, they found Jesus and apart from being intrigued by His teaching, were all flattered that one of their boats to serve as His pulpit.
And it was a grand day for teaching, and putting one across the more self-important of the pharisees. The night’s fishing had been pretty useless anyway.
And then it came: ‘OK lads, let’s do some fishing!’ This coming from a carpenter, who might be good at repairing boats when Simon ran his ashore rather too forcefully.
The pathetic protest brushed aside, Peter and the others dropped their nets – again. But now it was different. A clear resistance as they pulled the lines. A definite movement and wriggling. There really was a catch. A big one.
The night of frustrated labour now met with a great catch. And yes, the penny dropped. Jesus was much more than a wandering preacher, who could turn His hand to carpentry, even boat repairs. That is my fantasy, anyway.
He was indeed Lord: who had authority in teaching and yet was Lord of plenty. This was a different dimension to the usual moral encouragement coming from preachers.
It was a plenty in a time of carping criticism and legalistic self-righteousness. The blame culture on steroids.
But more than that, Peter and the others could be part of it. The invitation was there. It would mean leaving everything else behind but just look at what was possible.
One final thought: if we think our years are too advanced, then think of Moses, called to serve God as a youngster of 80.
