Where am I going? Who will go with me?
Luke 5:1-11
5 Once while Jesus[a] was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, 2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 3 He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. 4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” 6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; 10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
“Great Catch” by John August Swanson
This past Tuesday afternoon I went out to the back yard to soak up some of the beautiful sunshine that graced us that day. I got comfy in the hammock chair and I finally returned a call to a friend of mine who serves on the council of his church and wanted to learn more about how +KINDRED does leadership, decision-making, and work-sharing. Church governance doesn’t really rev my engine, so honestly, I’d been kind of avoiding the call. But then I got talking about when our Leadership Table chose to move our meetings from a conference room to a home, so that parents could be included and still get their kids to bed. How we always spend nearly a quarter of our time sharing a meal and stories, praying for one another, and reflecting deeply on scripture together. Sure, the agenda, our administrative tasks and work for mission matters a great deal, but it is first rooted in relationship, in shared life. It’s definitely not the most efficient way to run a meeting, but that’s only if you don’t consider the slow and sometimes unremarkable work of cultivating bold community part of our essential work, and I believe it is. I really got going talking about our balance of form and flexibility, the Spirit of faithfulness and openness that shapes who we are and how we are. If you haven’t spent significant time with many other churches, this is just not the norm in my experience. I mean, I think it should be which is why we take time to share what we’ve learned along the way. But this way of being church is pretty special. I could hear his voice lift on the other side of the phone as this story got him thinking in new life-giving ways about what community and leadership could look like, even in a very different culture than our own.
Later in the week, I was talking with an artist about a potential commission piece for the sanctuary. I was trying to describe who we are as people of God, what’s important to us about the Gospel, and how that might be reflected with meaningful images. She repeated back to me what she understood. She said, “so….we’re talking about a non-white Jesus that honors the LGBTQ community and you have pastors who ride motorcycles….what kind of a church did you say this was?” In her tone was another message: “This is a different story than I’m used to hearing…and it’s exciting.” Sometimes I take who we are and how we live into the Gospel for granted. The way we live and move and have our being…together…FOR one another…is still pretty revolutionary.
We certainly aren’t perfect and there’s plenty room to grow, but we stand on a firm foundation.
Word of Jesus is spreading, the curiosity is compelling crowds to come and see what the stories really look like. It’s a powerful Word. But so far Jesus has been carrying it mostly on their own. It could use some powerful allies to really get somewhere.
Civil rights leader and theologian, Howard Thurman, once said, “There are two questions we have to ask ourselves: the first is ‘Where am I going?’ And the second is ‘who will go with me?”
Jesus has been gaining a sense of where this Word is going. Through baptism, wilderness, and exploring the role of teacher and preacher…Jesus has begun to understand the risk-taking and life-giving work they’re called to. Now they find themselves in a moment where it is particularly clear that others will need to come along.
The idea of an all-powerful God is often taken to mean that Jesus could have done anything on their own, that God could do it all without any help, but CHOOSES to include others. That sounds a lot like toxic colonial theology to me. I wonder if divine power isn’t inherently powerful in its independence but in its extension, in its drawing in and gathering up of others for this work in mutuality. The Gospel becomes the Gospel as its fruit is multiplied by doing it together.
Jesus needs others for the Gospel to be heard and grow. The Gospel isn’t the Gospel if it remains isolated as hero-worship. God invites others to be a part of this life and work. When Jesus looks to invite…the focus isn’t on just ANY others. They particularly notice the often unnoticed. There is a crowd of interested folks right in front of them, plenty of them would surely be happy to volunteer for whatever task is needed, but Jesus invites those one the edge of this scene - the nearby fishermen cleaning their nets after a long night of work definitely didn’t seek out being in the midst of this crowd, they just happened to be nearby.
Imagine going to hear an incredible speaker at some little coffee shop. You’ve heard such wonderful things about them. Maybe you’ve been inspired by what you’ve heard, maybe you just go to see what the hype is about. As the room fills up and the speaker steps out to start, they need a volunteer to help them with something. Looking around, they point beyond all the folks sitting at tables or lining the walls, staring straight in their direction. They’re pointing to the person just going about their job, bussing tables in the back corner, clearing the empty cups and wiping down the chairs.
Jesus doesn’t just call on them to make a point, but because what they have and who they are is critically needed. Jesus asks them to do what they’re good at with the gifts and resources they have.
I need a way to be heard and seen; you have the boat and the skill that would make that possible.
Jesus notices and invites them into a meaningful role in this story. This is not tokenism. In the invitation and the blessing of abundance that follows…Jesus acknowledges, celebrates, and blesses their gifts and their being as they’ve understood it thus far and also reveals how these are still unfolding as a blessing and a boon to God’s work in the world. They are invited to be fully who they are alongside the gospel, to come and be more than spectators and witnesses, but to be a part of it. This experience of meaning and deep belonging is what entices them to follow. In Luke, Jesus doesn’t say “come and follow me,” it’s simply the response of people who have seen and known the goodness of God and tasted the possibility of their own place within that goodness. There’s an invitation to come experience, to come lend a hand, but the movement to follow is the harvest which ripens with mysterious beauty.
The nature of this helping, this way of being, and the abundance it reveals is that it leads us to invite others along in the work too. As the fresh fish fill the nets beyond their capacity, Simon must call to partners, to James and John to come and help too. The poetry of Psalm 42 proclaims, “deep calls to deep.” The experience of joy, wonder, fear moves us to share it with others. The opened heart reminds and restores nearby hearts to open.
Many of us have experienced invitation in manipulative ways, especially when religion is involved. Between the prevalence of evangelicalism and mid-level marketing schemes…It’s fair that we’ve become jaded and cynical of supposed holy invitation. But often, in our avoidance of becoming part of something like that, we avoid invitation altogether. Because we’ve been pressured and shamed into involvement that was not life-giving, we don’t want to do the same to others or be perceived as perpetuating that culture.
But our lives are filled with joy, wonder, and meaning that blossom and bless when shared.
I want to invite you into an exercise of reflection and invitation. As people of God, as a church, this should be a place to prepare and practice for a life of faith beyond this moment and this community. This is a time and place where we can try things and let them be wonky and learn together. Grab piece of paper and something to write with or use a notepad on your smart device.
I want you to think about your current rhythm of life. I know, rhythm might be an aspirational word for what life looks like right now, but just…what things are a part of your days, weeks, month that brings you joy, wonder, and meaning? Try to think of at least 3 things. Worship among +KINDRED can be one of those things, but what else? Walking in your neighborhood or at a local park? Maybe a webinar series or TikTok creator’s page? Maybe an online or outdoor yoga class? Where do you experience joy, wonder, and meaning?
Take a minute of silent prayer to reflect and write what the Spirit reveals.
Now, who might you be able to share these things with? Again, give yourself a time of silence and prayer to notice what the Holy Spirit may say here. But before we do that…keep an eye open for those on the edges and in the corners of your life. I’m not talking about the folks who get under your skin or the ones who are so far from your circle that you don’t genuinely have a starting place together yet; I’m talking about the diversity of people that are actually around us, near us, but that our biases often blind us from. Think about people who are different from you, different from those you’d typically call on first, but with whom you are indeed already connected so that you might recognize deeper blessing in one another. Because a diverse community doesn’t just happen, it’s cultivated.
So next to at least three of the things you wrote down as places of joy, wonder, and meaning. I want you to write at least one name of someone you could invite to share this thing alongside you. I recognize that sharing has its particular challenges right now, but some things are still possible and somethings you can hold onto for when gathering in person is safer. The invitation can be as simple as “hey, I’m planning on going for a walk in the park tomorrow to settle down after work, would you be up for coming with me?” Or “I’ve had this movie on my list to watch forever, but never get around to it. I’d actually love to have someone to talk about it with afterward. I thought of you. Does that sound like something you’d be into?” This practice may feel awkward or disorienting, but I imagine that’s not so dissimilar from how the first disciples felt when Jesus says they will fish for people. It will take practice and unfolding, but we’re in it together.
Hold a minute of silent prayer to reflect and write what the Spirit reveals.
Lord Jesus of fisher folk,
You taught your disciples to cast a wide net — not for fish, but for people. Teach us to recognize and utilize our own gifts for the Gospel. Make us nimble and gentle so we may handle hearts and hands with care; make our minds quiet and patient for your movement and revelation; and make our hearts hungry for your word, for the sake of the one who has captured our hearts already, Jesus Christ. Amen.
Continue to journal or meditate:
What surprised you or stuck out to you in this story?
What seems hardest about this practice of invitation?
What would you hope to be the fruit of this practice?