Rev Michael Cavanagh +353 (0)858 533 173
woman standing in a forest

Meditation for the Fourth Sunday before Lent

Collect

O God,
we are in the midst of so many and great dangers,
that because of our human frailty
we cannot always stand upright:
Grant to us the strength and protection
that will support us in all dangers
and carry us through all temptations;
through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Luke 5:1-11

Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 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. When he had finished speaking, 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.’ When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; 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.’ When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.

‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’

If you say so’, said Peter, silently thinking ‘I’ll humour Him, just this once, but I’ll be wasting my time.’ He’s had enough of a night of fruitless fishing and just wants to go home to bed.

He got a surprise, learned a lesson, and his life changed. Just like that. From that moment on, as he followed Jesus, he would have to be prepared to expect the unexpected. He would certainly never have seen himself as the rock on which the Church would be built, let alone that there would be millions upon millions of people in years to come who would read his story (warts and all!) and turn to Christ following his example, hearing his preaching and reading his letters. Even more remarkable, he would be happy to risk martyrdom for his faith.

All because he has experienced the true power of the long-anticipated Christ. He would have heard the prophesies in his synagogue worship, but that would entail enduring long boring sermons emphasising the need to ‘earn’ his salvation through obedience to every letter of the law, and completely missing the point. Peter’s freedom and his invitation to the Kingdom – and mine, and yours, doesn’t come through slavish attempts to follow every detailed instruction of the Law. Good job, because we’ll fail. It comes through the power of the cross to redeem our humanity as children of our Creator God through the saving grace of His Son.
Peter the fisherman is to be Peter the metaphorical fisher of women and men who need to know Jesus – especially those who don’t know that their salvation comes as a free gift. Unlike real fish, not hooked or trapped in a net, but set free.

That presents us with a challenge. We are all asked to have the faith to put out into deep water, but we must remember that we will never be on our own. Peter’s ministry was made possible by the power of the Holy Spirit, as will ours. We go forth in faith, and whoever we are, we have that same power to be witnesses in a world so desperately in need.

Frances Ellen Watkins Harper – Fishers of men

I had a dream, a varied dream:
Before my ravished sight
The city of my Lord arose,
With all its love and light.

The music of a myriad harps
Flowed out with sweet accord;
And saints were casting down their crowns
In homage to our Lord.

My heart leaped up with untold joy;
Life’s toil and pain were o’er;
My weary feet at last had found
The bright and restful shore.

Just as I reached the gates of light,
Ready to enter in,
From earth arose a fearful cry
Of sorrow and of sin.

I turned, and saw behind me surge
A wild and stormy sea;
And drowning men were reaching out
Imploring hands to me.

And ev’ry lip was blanched with dread
And moaning for relief;
The music of the golden harps
Grew fainter for their grief.

Let me return, I quickly said,
Close to the pearly gate;
My work is with these wretched ones,
So wrecked and desolate.

An angel smiled and gently said:
This is the gate of life,
Wilt thou return to earth’s sad scenes,
Its weariness and strife,

To comfort hearts that sigh and break,
To dry the falling tear,
Wilt thou forego the music sweet
Entrancing now thy ear?

I must return, I firmly said,
The strugglers in that sea
Shall not reach out beseeching hands
In vain for help to me.

I turned to go; but as I turned
The gloomy sea grew bright,
And from my heart there seemed to flow
Ten thousand cords of light.

And sin-wrecked men, with eager hands,
Did grasp each golden cord;
And with my heart I drew them on
To see my gracious Lord.

Again I stood beside the gate.
My heart was glad and free;
For with me stood a rescued throng
The Lord had given me.

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