"Jesus Sought Me"

 “Jesus Sought Me”

Luke 5:1-11

Sermon by Rev. Caela Simmons Wood

February 11, 2024

The season of Lent has arrived. It’s a season that some people have feelings about. If you grew up in a tradition that didn’t observe Lent, you may be wondering what the heck is going on. If you grew up in a tradition that did observe Lent you might have fond or not-so-fond memories. The UCC isn’t a tradition that has broad consensus around how Lent is practiced. While I think most UCC churches observe the season in some form or fashion, I think different churches put a different emphasis on HOW it is observed. There are certainly individuals in the UCC who faithfully choose a fast each Lent or add in a new spiritual practice during Lent. And there are other folks who have never taken on a fast or new practice. And still others who think that sounds interesting but haven’t figured out how they would do it just yet. 

The observance of Lent is one of the oldest traditions in the Christian Church. We think it is almost as old as the Church itself. In the early Church, new Christians confessed their faith on the evening of Holy Saturday and were baptized on Easter morning. The season of Lent grew out of this practice as a time of learning and growth for those Catechumens to prepare themselves for this event on Easter morning. And so, the tradition  of Lent as a season of learning, growth, perhaps adding in new practices to your daily life is as old as Lent itself. 

Catechumens in the early Church were also expected to prepare themselves for baptism by confessing their sins and repenting (that is, turning their lives in a different direction). The idea was that you needed to be ritually pure before your baptism on Easter morning. And so, the tradition of fasting or giving things up for Lent is also as old as Lent itself. 

Adding something in or taking something away sounds relatively simple, but what about when we’re not sure what we might want to add or subtract? What about those years when we’re so busy that we’re halfway through Lent before we realize it’s begun? Or the years when we’re just so deeply exhausted that the idea of changing anything in our life’s precarious balance is just impossible? Or years when we aren’t so sure we actually want to deepen our faith? Maybe we’re mad at God or mad at Jesus’s followers or just deeply disconnected from the Spirit. 

Well, dear ones, I’m here to tell you that it is OKAY. While the 40 days of Lent is there as a meaningful invitation to place a more intentional focus on your spirituality, there are many reasons why it might not be for you this year - or any year. 

One of the reasons I say it’s okay is that I actually do believe God is still active in our world. Or, as we love to say in the UCC, “God is stillspeaking.” And THAT means that God is still very much awake and present, even when we’re mad, or distracted, or exhausted, or confused, or disconnected. We don’t have to do anything at all and God will continue to seek us. 

While there are certainly significant limitations to a personified image of God, it does seem to be one of the ways many of us relate to the Divine. Whether your God is a kind grandmother, big dude in the sky, or a still, small voice within, we often think and speak of God as a “who” and not necessarily a “what.” And that “who-ness” of God makes it easier for us to think and talk about having a relationship with God. 

In any relationship, especially lifelong ones, there are going to be seasons of ups and downs, closer and distant, growth and stagnation. That is simply the nature of being in relationship with another. Every single one of us is going to go through seasons in our relationship with God, too. That’s normal. I don’t think there’s any way around it. If we think the relationship is utterly stagnant, then I don’t think it could really be much of a relationship, can it? Relationships require response and are dynamic by their very definition. 

If you find yourself in a season of distance, confusion, anger, frustration, I have what I hope is some good news to share: regardless of how we orient ourselves to the Divine - regardless of how our relationship with the Holy is at this point int time - God is steadily there, a constant force of love, still seeking us. 

This Lent we will be journeying through Lent with Simon Peter. One of Jesus’s closest companions in life, he became one of the most important leaders in the early Church. His original name, Simon, means something like “hearing” or “obedient” in Aramaic. And Simon certainly did hear (and sometimes obey). Like in today’s passage. Simon heard Jesus when he said, “Row out farther, into the deep water, and drop your nets for a catch.” And although he was skeptical (“Master, we’ve worked all night and caught nothing”) he even obeyed (“But because you say so, I’ll drop the nets.”) 

Like others in the BIble who received new names as recognition of profound spiritual experiences, Simon receives an additional name from Jesus: Peter, the Rock, also sometimes rendered in the Aramaic version, which is Cephas. 

An apt nickname: Simon Peter was like a rock in several ways. Jesus said he was to be called Peter because he planned to build his Church on this firm foundation. And Peter could be sturdy, firm, unwavering. He was a constant presence in the Gospels - he was there for all the big moments. He wasn’t just a part of the inner circle, he was the leader of the inner circle. Peter was steady like a rock. You can see why Jesus wanted him to be foundational in taking the Movement forward. 

But Peter could also be rough around the edges like a rock. He could be a little dense like a rock. He could be a bit TOO immovable like a rock. And Peter’s words could sometimes hurt others - just like sticks and stones and broken bones. 

Peter’s imperfect messiness is what so many of us love about him, right? His relationship with Jesus had its ups and downs. He didn’t always get it right. And maybe that’s why he tried to shrug Jesus off in this initial encounter. He was willing to dip his toe into the waters and see if this Jesus guy can help him and his co-workers catch some fish. But when Jesus delivers, he does a complete 180, “Leave me, Lord! For I’m a sinner!” 

Of course, being a sinner doesn’t exactly deter Jesus. He always seems to understand that everyone is going to be a little bit sinner and a little bit saint. Sometimes all on the same day. We all have regrets. We are all works in progress. We are all sometimes steady and very often rough to the touch. 

But Jesus knows exactly what to do with messy, imperfect people: he seeks us, names us, befriends us, calls us - again and again and again and again. 

Jesus takes it further than just being unbothered by Simon Peter’s confession of sin. He both comforts him (“Don’t be afraid.”) and issues an invitation: “From now on, you’ll be fishing for people.” In other words, “I see you in all your messy humanity and I want you to come with me. I believe that you can follow in my footsteps and that you can share God’s love with other people just as I’m doing with you right now.”

We are going to be learning a lot from wandering alongside Simon Peter during Lent. And I think our first lesson can be learned right here. Simon and his friends accept Jesus’s invitation. They leave everything behind and follow him. What else did they have planned for the day? Or the week? Or the month? We aren’t told. But we all know how complicated - how seemingly-impossible - it would be to just pick up and go like that. Their response is astounding, really. That they accepted Jesus’s invitation like that is so unexpected. 

Peter probably wasn’t looking for Jesus when he went to work that day. He got up early, fumbled towards the coffee pot, and put one leg into his pants at a time - just like he had done every single day of his adult life. My guess is that when he stepped onto his fishing boat that day, his mind was probably focused on things like how to pay the bills and remembering to help his dad fix that broken piece of equipment over the weekend. He was probably just laughing and joking with his brother and buddies, maybe even using some coarse language as some of us do when we tell good stories. And when he put his hand to his eyes to look back towards the shore, I don’t think he was looking for Jesus. He was probably just looking for a place to dock and wash his nets.

Peter wasn’t looking for Jesus. But Jesus was looking for him. 

And Simon Peter was willing to be found. 

That’s no small thing, you know. Being willing to be found. 

We hide from each other, from ourselves, from God All. The. Time. Because sometimes being found means receiving hard truths. Sometimes being found means accepting love when we’re not sure how to do that. Sometimes being found means we are issued an invitation - and our response is requested. 

And so, perhaps if you haven’t yet picked a Lenten practice yet but you’ve been thinking about it, maybe this story is an invitation for you. Maybe being a bit like Peter and his friends is a Lenten practice all on it’s own. Maybe this year we’ll just keep showing up and allowing ourselves to be found. Maybe this year we’ll bring a little more intention to my days, shielding our eyes against distractions and making sure we don’t miss Jesus on the shoreline, right under our noses. Maybe this year some of us will do nothing much at all except remember that Jesus is still seeking us, even when we’re a bit messier than we’d prefer. 

Maybe this year we’ll remember that spiritual practices like fasting and prayer are wonderful AND that the work of faith isn’t ours to do alone. Jesus is still seeking us, even when we’re not doing much of anything at all - just going about our daily lives. 

And maybe this year, like Peter, we won’t even be seeking Jesus at all. But when Christ seeks us, maybe this year we’ll allow ourselves to be found.