Luke 5:1-11
5:1 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God,
5:2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets.
5:3 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.
5:4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch."
5:5 Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets."
5:6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break.
5:7 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.
5:8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"
5:9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken;
5:10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who are partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people."
5:11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
SERMON "You're the Expert" Rev. Dr. James McTyre
I have a friend whose wife tells him her next husband is going to know how to fix things.
One of our church members told me he can fix anything with a couple of YouTube videos and a beer. Or two.
The definition of an expert is a sliding scale.
All you need to be an expert is to know a little bit more than the next person.
If you can fix your mom's iPhone just once – boom – you're an expert.
Or, as they say at the Apple Store, you're a "genius."
If you're a former Baptist who can quote scripture verses from memory, you're intimidating.
To most Presbyterians.
Close enough to expert.
If you have a degree in something or a job doing it, people will assume you're an expert, whether you're good at it or not.
Simon Peter, James and John were experts.
At least, we assume they were.
They were not Bass Pro browsers.
They were fishermen.
REAL fisherpersons.
These men were not at leisure on the water.
They were professionals.
Professional fishermen.
Experts.
Except Simon Peter, James and John weren't the ESPN-type competitive fishermen with million-dollar boats and corporate sponsors.
They were more like the boys in those sunset photographs – standing shirtless in their rickety boat, casting their net, its twisting shape silhouetted against the orange sky.
For Simon-Peter and all, fish in the nets meant food on the table, meant shoes for the kids, meant another day of life.
Workers.
Searchers.
Providers.
They were people who depended on luck and the grace of God and they knew it every time they shoved off into the deep.
Experience teaches even experts there's always more to learn.
So, they were pros.
They had wisdom that comes from experience, and experience that comes from doing the same thing, over and over, day after day.
Experts.
But in another sense, they were anything but.
They depended on the weather.
Depended on seasons.
Depended on the fish.
Depended on the fish to be where they were supposed to be and tiny-brain fish are not dependable.
Fishing is educated guesswork.
Even if you're a pro with sonar rigs, you're still on this side of the water.
Nobody can MAKE a fish take your bait.
Good luck and the grace of God have to blow your direction for you to be successful.
The best you can do is be prepared, be ready, be watchful, and be patient.
Think of the things you do every day.
How much of your success – how much of your failure – depends on your expertise?
How much of your daily success – depends on dumb luck and the grace of God?
When days go well, is God smiling on you?
When things turn dark, has God looked away?
Or is it all just luck?
Simon Peter almost missed the greatest day of his life.
He almost missed the miracle Jesus brought into his boat.
Almost missed it, because he was an expert.
--
Think of how much of this story happens by accident.
Jesus is teaching by the shore of Lake Gennesaret.
Nobody knows exactly what Gennesaret means.
It could be close to "kingly gardens."
We know the land was beautiful, and fertile.
Jesus liked the water.
He liked gardens.
He's so often in them or beside them -- teaching, praying, hooking disciples.
Today he's exploring the lake and gardens of Gennesaret, not as a king, but as a teacher.
The crowd Jesus is teaching starts pressing in on him.
Crowds can be scary. Out of control.
Imagine the power of a crowd, like a wild ocean, pressing in – not to pull down goalposts, but to hear the expert Jesus.
Not even Jesus can control a crowd.
Crowds turn into mobs.
Excitement can turn into incitement, on a word.
Jesus looks for a way out.
He didn't have an exit strategy for this.
But he sees some empty boats floating by the shore.
He grabs a spot in one.
Turns out, it's Simon Peter's boat.
Did Jesus know that in advance?
Or was it random choice?
Jesus asks Simon Peter to take him out, just far enough to escape the crowd.
And then the boat becomes his classroom, his pulpit.
Simon the fisherman becomes Simon the chauffeur.
Not something he's an expert at.
I can't imagine anything like this has happened to him before.
Simon had almost made it to quitting time.
Still working, but getting ready for the next night.
Mending his nets so he could go out again when the sun went down.
They fished at night in Gennesaret.
Because it's really hot in the day.
Simon Peter's workday was interrupted at the last minute, after Jesus had been interrupted, after the crowd happened to get too big, the day Jesus happened to be teaching by this lake, the day Jesus jumped into his boat.
Sun comes up, the bell rings.
Class is over.
Church heads to Cracker Barrel.
Or CB's.
Have you seen the crowds there?
Every Sunday, line goes around the building.
You'd almost have to skip church to get a table there.
Shh. Don't tell.
Jesus gives the benediction and then when it's finally quiet again on the waterfront, Jesus tells Simon Peter to put out his nets into the deep water.
And what happens?
The miraculous catch?
Not yet.
And almost not at all.
Jesus tells him to put out his nets in the deep water and for a moment, maybe two, Simon thinks about it.
He thinks about it.
And Simon says, "No." No.
Why does Simon say no?
You know why.
Because Simon Peter's an expert.
"We have worked all night long.
We have been working all night long, doing our jobs, fishing for our living.
Fishing for our lives.
Fishing for the livelihood of our families.
Working.
Providing.
This is what we do.
All night long.
Every night.
We fish.
We know fishing.
And we have caught nothing."
You see, before Simon Peter is obedient, before miracles start to happen, before he becomes a disciple – Simon Peter is an expert.
Simon Peter says, "No."
Would you say No to Jesus?
Have you said No to him?
Why would you tell Jesus no?
It isn't because we're unbelieving.
It's not because we're not faithful, or don't love Jesus sincerely enough.
It's not because we're not good enough, or because of our failures.
More often than not, we say No to Jesus because we're experts.
Experts at our jobs.
Experts at ourselves.
We do this.
We know this.
Whatever this is.
We're experts.
So, Lord Jesus, "No."
--
And what comes next?
It's so easy to know what happens next in church, isn't it?
What happens next?
Whatever the bulletin says.
Same thing that always happens.
We sing a hymn.
We say the Creed.
We pray.
We take up the Offering.
Of course we take up the Offering.
Sunday after Sunday.
Pretty much the same thing.
We're experts.
We've done this before.
We're smarter than Simon Peter.
…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."
Was Simon Peter suddenly being obedient?
Was he hopeful?
Was he playing along to satisfy Jesus and get him out of his maritime Uber?
When has someone given you a begrudging Yes to something you know they don't really want to do?
We hear that every now and then, in church.
In church, sometimes, we'll be looking for someone to chair a particular committee.
Or to be an elder on session.
And they say,
"Well, keep looking, and if you can't find anyone else to do it, I guess I will."
We say OK, we'd accept those terms.
Now, you know, we stop looking right then and there.
Because in church, even to Jesus, a begrudging yes is still a yes.
So Peter says, "Yet, if you say so… I will let down the nets."
Does it matter?
Jesus doesn't seem to mind if our Yes to him is begrudging or not.
Sincere or not.
Excited and bouncy or not.
Does Jesus care if you really want to be up at sunrise, feeding the homeless?
Does Jesus care if you really want to sell all you have and give it to the poor?
Does Jesus care if you really want to visit the sick, welcome the stranger, bring comfort to prisoners?
Do you think the hungry care?
Do you think the homeless, the sick, the strangers, the prisoners care if you're getting something out of caring for them?
I'm sure they'd prefer you weren't all crabby and rude.
But even if you do the work of Jesus with a grumpy heart, the work of Jesus is going to get done.
Jesus doesn't care if you like it or not.
Doesn't care if you think you're right or not.
Doesn't care if you think you're an expert or not.
Nobody wants to be proved wrong.
None of us want to be shown up by some amateur at something we're expert at.
No professional fisherman wants some failed ex-carpenter telling them where to throw the nets.
But it happens.
And sometimes, by the grace of God, sometimes WITH the grace of God, those buttinsky upstarts teach us –
not how to do our jobs,
but teach us how much of what we think we know,
how much of our expertise,
they remind us how much of every day, depends on luck and the grace of God blowing our direction.
Praise God for the times when we're not experts.
Praise Jesus – for times when we don't know what we're doing.
Because those are the times when we might notice what God is doing, whether we appreciate it or not.
That's the beauty of being in a church.
A church doesn't care if you're an expert at anything.
We're all amateurs here.
We're ALL amateurs before Jesus.
You know what it really means to be an amateur?
An amateur is literally just someone who loves what they're doing.
An amateur is someone who loves the people who benefit.
We're all amateurs at this Christian stuff.
Good thing Jesus just jumps in our boats.
And says, Go.
5:1 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God,
5:2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets.
5:3 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.
5:4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, "Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch."
5:5 Simon answered, "Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets."
5:6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break.
5:7 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.
5:8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus' knees, saying, "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!"
5:9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken;
5:10 and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who are partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people."
5:11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
SERMON "You're the Expert" Rev. Dr. James McTyre
I have a friend whose wife tells him her next husband is going to know how to fix things.
One of our church members told me he can fix anything with a couple of YouTube videos and a beer. Or two.
The definition of an expert is a sliding scale.
All you need to be an expert is to know a little bit more than the next person.
If you can fix your mom's iPhone just once – boom – you're an expert.
Or, as they say at the Apple Store, you're a "genius."
If you're a former Baptist who can quote scripture verses from memory, you're intimidating.
To most Presbyterians.
Close enough to expert.
If you have a degree in something or a job doing it, people will assume you're an expert, whether you're good at it or not.
Simon Peter, James and John were experts.
At least, we assume they were.
They were not Bass Pro browsers.
They were fishermen.
REAL fisherpersons.
These men were not at leisure on the water.
They were professionals.
Professional fishermen.
Experts.
Except Simon Peter, James and John weren't the ESPN-type competitive fishermen with million-dollar boats and corporate sponsors.
They were more like the boys in those sunset photographs – standing shirtless in their rickety boat, casting their net, its twisting shape silhouetted against the orange sky.
For Simon-Peter and all, fish in the nets meant food on the table, meant shoes for the kids, meant another day of life.
Workers.
Searchers.
Providers.
They were people who depended on luck and the grace of God and they knew it every time they shoved off into the deep.
Experience teaches even experts there's always more to learn.
So, they were pros.
They had wisdom that comes from experience, and experience that comes from doing the same thing, over and over, day after day.
Experts.
But in another sense, they were anything but.
They depended on the weather.
Depended on seasons.
Depended on the fish.
Depended on the fish to be where they were supposed to be and tiny-brain fish are not dependable.
Fishing is educated guesswork.
Even if you're a pro with sonar rigs, you're still on this side of the water.
Nobody can MAKE a fish take your bait.
Good luck and the grace of God have to blow your direction for you to be successful.
The best you can do is be prepared, be ready, be watchful, and be patient.
Think of the things you do every day.
How much of your success – how much of your failure – depends on your expertise?
How much of your daily success – depends on dumb luck and the grace of God?
When days go well, is God smiling on you?
When things turn dark, has God looked away?
Or is it all just luck?
Simon Peter almost missed the greatest day of his life.
He almost missed the miracle Jesus brought into his boat.
Almost missed it, because he was an expert.
--
Think of how much of this story happens by accident.
Jesus is teaching by the shore of Lake Gennesaret.
Nobody knows exactly what Gennesaret means.
It could be close to "kingly gardens."
We know the land was beautiful, and fertile.
Jesus liked the water.
He liked gardens.
He's so often in them or beside them -- teaching, praying, hooking disciples.
Today he's exploring the lake and gardens of Gennesaret, not as a king, but as a teacher.
The crowd Jesus is teaching starts pressing in on him.
Crowds can be scary. Out of control.
Imagine the power of a crowd, like a wild ocean, pressing in – not to pull down goalposts, but to hear the expert Jesus.
Not even Jesus can control a crowd.
Crowds turn into mobs.
Excitement can turn into incitement, on a word.
Jesus looks for a way out.
He didn't have an exit strategy for this.
But he sees some empty boats floating by the shore.
He grabs a spot in one.
Turns out, it's Simon Peter's boat.
Did Jesus know that in advance?
Or was it random choice?
Jesus asks Simon Peter to take him out, just far enough to escape the crowd.
And then the boat becomes his classroom, his pulpit.
Simon the fisherman becomes Simon the chauffeur.
Not something he's an expert at.
I can't imagine anything like this has happened to him before.
Simon had almost made it to quitting time.
Still working, but getting ready for the next night.
Mending his nets so he could go out again when the sun went down.
They fished at night in Gennesaret.
Because it's really hot in the day.
Simon Peter's workday was interrupted at the last minute, after Jesus had been interrupted, after the crowd happened to get too big, the day Jesus happened to be teaching by this lake, the day Jesus jumped into his boat.
Sun comes up, the bell rings.
Class is over.
Church heads to Cracker Barrel.
Or CB's.
Have you seen the crowds there?
Every Sunday, line goes around the building.
You'd almost have to skip church to get a table there.
Shh. Don't tell.
Jesus gives the benediction and then when it's finally quiet again on the waterfront, Jesus tells Simon Peter to put out his nets into the deep water.
And what happens?
The miraculous catch?
Not yet.
And almost not at all.
Jesus tells him to put out his nets in the deep water and for a moment, maybe two, Simon thinks about it.
He thinks about it.
And Simon says, "No." No.
Why does Simon say no?
You know why.
Because Simon Peter's an expert.
"We have worked all night long.
We have been working all night long, doing our jobs, fishing for our living.
Fishing for our lives.
Fishing for the livelihood of our families.
Working.
Providing.
This is what we do.
All night long.
Every night.
We fish.
We know fishing.
And we have caught nothing."
You see, before Simon Peter is obedient, before miracles start to happen, before he becomes a disciple – Simon Peter is an expert.
Simon Peter says, "No."
Would you say No to Jesus?
Have you said No to him?
Why would you tell Jesus no?
It isn't because we're unbelieving.
It's not because we're not faithful, or don't love Jesus sincerely enough.
It's not because we're not good enough, or because of our failures.
More often than not, we say No to Jesus because we're experts.
Experts at our jobs.
Experts at ourselves.
We do this.
We know this.
Whatever this is.
We're experts.
So, Lord Jesus, "No."
--
And what comes next?
It's so easy to know what happens next in church, isn't it?
What happens next?
Whatever the bulletin says.
Same thing that always happens.
We sing a hymn.
We say the Creed.
We pray.
We take up the Offering.
Of course we take up the Offering.
Sunday after Sunday.
Pretty much the same thing.
We're experts.
We've done this before.
We're smarter than Simon Peter.
…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."
Was Simon Peter suddenly being obedient?
Was he hopeful?
Was he playing along to satisfy Jesus and get him out of his maritime Uber?
When has someone given you a begrudging Yes to something you know they don't really want to do?
We hear that every now and then, in church.
In church, sometimes, we'll be looking for someone to chair a particular committee.
Or to be an elder on session.
And they say,
"Well, keep looking, and if you can't find anyone else to do it, I guess I will."
We say OK, we'd accept those terms.
Now, you know, we stop looking right then and there.
Because in church, even to Jesus, a begrudging yes is still a yes.
So Peter says, "Yet, if you say so… I will let down the nets."
Does it matter?
Jesus doesn't seem to mind if our Yes to him is begrudging or not.
Sincere or not.
Excited and bouncy or not.
Does Jesus care if you really want to be up at sunrise, feeding the homeless?
Does Jesus care if you really want to sell all you have and give it to the poor?
Does Jesus care if you really want to visit the sick, welcome the stranger, bring comfort to prisoners?
Do you think the hungry care?
Do you think the homeless, the sick, the strangers, the prisoners care if you're getting something out of caring for them?
I'm sure they'd prefer you weren't all crabby and rude.
But even if you do the work of Jesus with a grumpy heart, the work of Jesus is going to get done.
Jesus doesn't care if you like it or not.
Doesn't care if you think you're right or not.
Doesn't care if you think you're an expert or not.
Nobody wants to be proved wrong.
None of us want to be shown up by some amateur at something we're expert at.
No professional fisherman wants some failed ex-carpenter telling them where to throw the nets.
But it happens.
And sometimes, by the grace of God, sometimes WITH the grace of God, those buttinsky upstarts teach us –
not how to do our jobs,
but teach us how much of what we think we know,
how much of our expertise,
they remind us how much of every day, depends on luck and the grace of God blowing our direction.
Praise God for the times when we're not experts.
Praise Jesus – for times when we don't know what we're doing.
Because those are the times when we might notice what God is doing, whether we appreciate it or not.
That's the beauty of being in a church.
A church doesn't care if you're an expert at anything.
We're all amateurs here.
We're ALL amateurs before Jesus.
You know what it really means to be an amateur?
An amateur is literally just someone who loves what they're doing.
An amateur is someone who loves the people who benefit.
We're all amateurs at this Christian stuff.
Good thing Jesus just jumps in our boats.
And says, Go.
Transitional Pastor, Evergreen Presbyterian Church (USA), Dothan, AL
865-216-1980
james@evergreenpres.church
www.evergreenpres.church
