First Impressions

Text: Luke 5:1-11

When you are introduced to a story in the Bible, it is a little like meeting someone for the first time. You wonder whether this person is going to be a life-long friend or more a friend-of-a-friend kind of person. In either case, first impressions are important. But in the case of life-long friends, first impressions often turn out to be wrong. Some of my best friends were idiots when I first met them. I’m sure the feeling was mutual. But now we see each other more deeply, we have had more shared experiences, and though the idiocy remains, the connection is much more rich, complicated, and respectful. This is true of scripture as much as it is true of people.

When you first meet this story in Luke, which seems to be about fishing and fishers, you might be impressed by different things. Certainly biblical scholars have. They do not agree. For example, you might think this passage was put together from three separate stories mashed together by a common marine theme. There is a story of Jesus teaching people. There is the story of a miraculous catch of fish. And there is the story of Jesus calling new disciples.

Or you might think this passage is mostly about the miraculous power of Jesus to provide abundantly, helping the laborers gratefully gather the fruit of creation.

Or you might think this passage is an allegory, in which the parts of the story—the fishers, the nets, the fish, the catch—all stand for something else. This is a common interpretation, but full of difficulties. If it is an allegory, then who are we? Are we the disciples, catching others? Or are we the fish, being caught? (And you know what happens to fish!) Or are we the net, which God uses to gather disciples? Or the other partners, James and John? Or something else altogether.

My impression today—which is different than it was years ago and will be different, I’m sure, in the years ahead—my impression today is that this passage is like a piece of young adult fiction. Those YA books in the library, written for teens. Like mystery stories and romances, these books all follow the same plot, more or less. And they all have the same point, more or less, which is how friends are made and friendships kept. The plot always goes like this:

1. The bad first impression.

2. The big event.

3. The awkward moment.

4. The commitment of true friendship.

And that’s how today’s Gospel story goes.

#1: The bad first impression. Imagine Peter’s point of view. Actually, he is still Simon, since he has not yet joined Jesus nor been renamed by him. So, Simon’s point of view. This man Jesus hops into Simon’s boat. He makes Simon—who has been up all night fishing—row out a bit just so Jesus can speak to some folks who have come to see him. Presumably Simon has to just sit there with Jesus. Then he tells Simon, who has caught no fish, to go out and try again. Jesus knows nothing about fishing. Nobody goes fishing in the daytime. What is with this guy?

#2: The big event. Nonetheless, Peter—can we call him Peter?—does what Jesus asks. That’s how it goes in stories like this. There is a little bit of trust that becomes possible here. Like a bit of tinder for a fire. Something about Jesus makes Jesus seem OK to Peter. Peter doesn’t tell Jesus to take a hike. Instead, Peter is willing to give it a shot. Wow, good thing he did. They throw their nets into the water and a whole bunch of fish swim in. “Many a lot” it says in Greek. Who is this person?

#3: The awkward moment. Or, to be more religious, the conversion. There is always a point in these stories when the protagonist—Peter in this case—sees his new friend in a different light. When suspicion turns to realization, when doubt turns to respect. The beginning of love. Peter realizes that the annoying parts that he first saw in Jesus don’t really matter. It doesn’t matter that Jesus is a little bossy and ignorant about fishing. That is not the main thing. In a young adult novel one person says to the other, “well, I guess you are OK after all. I’m sorry I was such a jerk.” In the Gospel of Luke, Peter says “Go away from me Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Same thing.

And #4: The commitment of true friendship. Jesus responds to Peter’s offer of apology and affection with one of his own. Not a problem, Jesus says. Let’s go do something great together. And off they go, catching people and having all sorts of other adventures. Which you’ll have to read about in the next book in the series. In our case, the rest of Luke and Acts. And then the letters of Paul, and then the adventure of the whole church. But that’s for another day in the future for Peter and Jesus.

Some people, like Isaiah in today’s first reading, have their lives dramatically changed in a moment by God’s voice. As Paul was, for example. People have a transforming experience, becoming in an instant what seems to them to be a new person. But for most of us, our connection with Jesus is much more like a growing friendship. It develops over time.

There are times when we think that we have, or that God has, made a terrible mistake. There are times when we don’t know who God is and feel that God doesn’t know us very well either, in spite of what it says in the Bible about God counting the hairs on our heads. And there are times when we get a big pleasant unlikely surprise. We learn more about God. More importantly, we see God better, and we know God more, and we begin to trust God. And we begin to want to hang out more together, and then to look forward to doing great things together.

I know less about fishing than Jesus did. But from the little fishing I’ve done, it seems to combine two things. First, fishing is a sport of predictions. Where are the fish, what will they be doing, what will they like today? Lots of little predictions based on previous knowledge, the wisdom of others, intuition, and an sensitivity to the what’s going on in the present. And second, related to this, is that fishing is a series of offers and acceptances. The fishing person makes offers in terms of bait and lure, of course, and hopes the fish will accept. But the fish make offers, too. Tiny and subtle revelations, inviting the fisher to have an open mind. To doubt his or her first impressions and to make changes.

That is how friendship works. With humans or with God. Anglican archbishop and theologian Rowan Williams has said that to say we believe in Jesus is the equivalent of saying we have confidence in Jesus above all things. That confidence emerges over time, like friendship. Developed through little, experimental, trial-sized trusting steps. And big events. And awkward moments. And out of that friendship comes the rest: obedience, loyalty, interdependence, service.

Part of God is big and mysterious. Ineffable, unknowable. But part of the God we know is close and intimate. As connected to us and we to God as one young friend to another.