God’s Life-Altering Call
Preacher: Revd Paul Whittle, Synod Moderator, The United Reformed Church
Readings: Isaiah 6:1-8; Luke 5:1-11
In her book “Struggling To Be Holy” Judy Hirst writes: “God can live with the reality that we are sinners even if we find it hard to do so.” And she also comments: “Our failure to believe enough in God’s love, to trust the mess of our real selves to God is a serious barrier to the joy of knowing God better.”
These are sentiments that are reflected in today’s Bible readings. Isaiah sees the need for someone to respond to God’s call. He can see that there is a task to be undertaken, God’s task, but he feels that he needs to turn away because he is just not good enough. Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips.” And the pattern is repeated in the encounter between Jesus and Simon Peter. Simon can see that there is something special about Jesus, something quite amazing. But he’s not good enough to be involved. Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!
Stories of folk trying to avoid God’s call, for all sorts of reasons but, very often, with a feeling of not being good enough are many, both in and beyond the Bible. But God values us just as we are. We are loved. We are valued. We are precious. Of course, we’re not good enough. But though it might bother us, it doesn’t bother God. God recognises the importance of loving us as we are. Judy Hirst reflects this when she writes: “if I could jettison the parts of me I found troublesome I would also lose parts of myself which I valued. We are complex realities and we need to learn to love what we are, both delightful and damaged, and put it all into the hands of the master potter to form into something unique and beautiful.” When God calls us, that is transformational, that can be life-altering.
Let’s take Isaiah for starters. Isaiah 6 offers an amazing vision indeed. I saw the Lord sitting on a throne, high and lofty; and the hem of his robe filled the temple. Seraphs were in attendance above him; each had six wings: with two they covered their faces, and with two they covered their feet, and with two they flew. It is a scene that is almost beyond description, and so it should be – because here Isaiah is describing an encounter with God.
The word picture is spectacular. Just the hem of God’s robe fills the temple. Of course, in a way, it doesn’t make sense – because we have described the Lord on the throne, the hem of his robe filling the temple, and his being attended by the seraphs. There isn’t room for all of this to be going on. But we are in the realm of God. All things are possible and all things are beyond possibility. The only mistake we might make is to try and understand it. What is being described is beyond normal human comprehension. What matters in this story is that God is there and that God encounters Isaiah. The seraphs are proclaiming the glory of God: Holy, holy, holy is the Lord of hosts; the whole earth is full of his glory. The description conjures up an overwhelming sense of the holiness of God. It is hardly surprising that Isaiah feels unclean and unworthy, even afraid that this very sight will cause instant death. How on earth can he respond to what he has seen? What is to be said? What is to be done? Woe is me! I am lost, for I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips; yet my eyes have seen the King, the Lord of hosts! The prophet sees himself as in dire straits. He sees himself as profoundly at risk. He is reduced to nothing. He doesn’t see any possible or suitable way out.
The focus has moved from incredible splendour and majesty to massive inadequacy. But the two are then linked by a transforming moment. It is very easy for us to be frightened off by the challenge of the vision, just as Isaiah nearly was, whether that vision, that call, is big or small. It is right that we, like Isaiah, recognise how little, on our own, we can bring. But he wasn’t on his own, neither are we, and that makes all the difference. God’s accompanying us is the transforming factor.
In the account that we have the transforming moment is symbolised by the prophet’s lips being touched by a live coal that is brought by one of the seraphs. This would seem to be potentially both dangerous and painful. I wouldn’t be too keen to have someone grab a lump of glowing coal from a fire with a pair of tongs and touch it against my mouth, however briefly but, of course, we don’t need to worry about such things when God is involved. The important point is that this is an indicator of the forgiveness God offers us. What happens here qualifies Isaiah to do that which God wants of him. God’s forgiveness can come to seem so ordinary and so every day. Forgive us our debts. Forgive us our sins. Here is a reminder that forgiveness is anything but ordinary – and yet God does this extraordinary thing for us time and time again.
But what of Simon Peter and our passage from Luke 5? As we have already noted, there are some similar elements in this story. Here we have Peter, having just dragged his boat ashore, in conversation with Jesus.
One of the great things about Jesus is that he went looking for people where they were. One of the things we do, too often, is wait for people to come to us, to come to church. Of course, it’s good for church to be there for people to come to. Despite our secular society it is amazing how many people come to church looking for something. In many cases they don’t know what – or should I say who – they are seeking and those called by Jesus, need to be ready to welcome and help them. But we ought also to take our faith into the everyday world. Jesus met and challenged these fishermen at work. He engaged with their work. Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.
This is an ordinary day in the life of this Galilean fisherman. We all have such days. We’ve worked hard but seemed to have achieved nothing. Hopefully, things balance out. That’s what we rely on. If every day goes wrong, it’s a bit of a disaster. But sometimes it happens. These fishermen have had other such days, and they’ll have them again. Of course, it’s annoying to work all night and to catch nothing. Those who are new to something get really annoyed and frustrated when it turns out that way. But those who have been doing whatever it is for a while take it in their stride, as do these veteran fishermen.
Only on this particular day that’s not necessary. Because this encounter turns things round. Now the nets are breaking from too many fish. Now the boats are sinking from too many fish. The complaints about nothingness are replaced – potentially – by complaints about abundance. And, of course, it is true for us, too, though maybe not quite like this, but how often it can be that a seemingly chance encounter turns things round or, at the very least, moves them on. And we, like Peter, need to be ready.
Isn’t it interesting how one day can make a difference. Verse 11 gives a picture that must have had an impact on quite a few people – certainly on James and John and Peter and Andrew. Andrew is not named in Luke’s account, but we know that he was Peter’s brother and business partner. When they had brought their boats to shore they left everything and followed him. But what about Zebedee, who might have been in charge of this business – and who suddenly finds that four key workers have walked away? And not only that, but they have left a load of fish which need to be prepared and sold quickly – or else they will go off and be wasted. Fish are extremely perishable. And what about the other fishermen around who have just caught a normal amount of fish – but who now find prices driven down by this temporary glut? Maybe, of course, they were quite happy to go off following Jesus because, with their nets broken and torn and their boats sunk, they had lost their means of livelihood and had nothing to lose. We don’t know exactly what happened – but what we do know is that Jesus made a difference.
That’s the call – to participate in God’s making a difference. In C S Lewis’s Narnia book ‘The Last Battle’ the characters are ushered through a door into the culmination of all things. They are in the midst of a pitched battle. They are defeated. Hope has gone. Then they find themselves on the other side of the stable door in a world made wholly new. Lewis describes the fruit of a tree standing in that new world:
“What was the fruit like? Unfortunately, no one can describe a taste. All I can say is that, compared with those fruits, the freshest grapefruit you have ever eaten was dull, and the juiciest orange was dry, and the most melting pear was hard and woody, and the sweetest wild strawberry was sour. And there were no seeds or stones, and no wasps. If you had once eaten that fruit, all the nicest things in this world would taste like medicines after it. But I can’t describe it. You can’t find out what it is like unless you can get to that country and taste for yourself.”
I can’t help thinking that the nets bursting with fish fits with that other common and important Biblical theme of abundance, reflected in a way by Lewis. God’s call to us may be challenging, potentially life-altering. Sometimes, I’m sure it will be. But God’s love, God’s abundant love, is always there.