Joel D. Kline
February 8, 2004
Highland Avenue Church of the Brethren
The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany
A water-bearer in India had two large pots. Each hung on opposite ends of a pole that he carried across his neck. One of the pots had a crack in it, while the other one was in perfect condition. The one in perfect condition always delivered a full portion of water at the end of the long walk from the stream back to the master’s house, while the cracked pot arrived only half-full. Every day for a full two years, the water-bearer delivered one and a half pots of water.
The perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments, because it fulfilled magnificently the purpose for which it had been made. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its imperfection, miserable that it was able to accomplish only half of what it had been made to do.
One day the unhappy pot spoke to the water-bearer by the stream, confessing that it was ashamed of itself. When the water-bearer asked why, the pot replied, “I have been able, for these past two years, to deliver only half my load, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your master’s house. Because of my flaw, you have to do all this work and you don’t get full value from your efforts.”
The water-bearer felt sorry for the old cracked pot, and in his compassion said, “As we return to the master’s house, I want you to notice the beautiful flowers along the path.” Indeed, as they went up the hill, the cracked pot noticed all the lovely flowers on the side of the path, bright in the sun’s glow, and the sight cheered the pot a bit.
But at the end of the trail, the old pot still felt badly that it had leaked half its load, and once again apologized to the bearer. This time the bearer asked, “Did you notice that there were only flowers on your side of the path? That is because I have always known of your flaw, and I have taken advantage of it. I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day, as we walked back from the stream, you have watered those seeds. For two years I have been able to pick beautiful bouquets to decorate my master’s table. Without you being just the way you are, he would not have had this beauty to grace his house.”
The pot had assumed that it understood its full purpose, and as a result did not grasp that it had an even greater purpose, which was to give life to the dormant seed along its path. Do we also presume we already know all there is to know, in the process restricting our sense of who God is calling us to be?
Like the cracked pot, Simon Peter assumes that he is a failure; he assumes he is unworthy to be in the presence of Jesus. As a result, Peter cries out, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinner!”
Consider the story. While Jesus stands along the Sea of Galilee—labeled the lake of Gennesaret in our text from Luke, chapter five—crowds press in upon him, anxious to hear him teach and experience the healing Jesus offers. Spying Peter’s fishing boat, Jesus gets in, sits down and begins to share his message with the people. When finished, Jesus turns attention to Peter and commands, “Put out into the deep water and let your nets down for a catch.” As is frequently the case with Jesus, things are more than they first seem, for Jesus has much more in mind than a successful fishing event for Peter.
In response to Jesus’ request, Peter begins to protest, for the small band of fishermen had toiled all night and come up empty. Who is this upstart preacher who acts as if he knows more about Peter’s trade than does Peter? But something causes Peter to reconsider—something, no doubt, in the quality of Jesus’ teachings or in the charisma of his character. Or perhaps it goes back to the story in the preceding chapter, where Jesus, while in Capernaum, heals Peter’s mother-in-law. Whatever the case, Peter responds, “Master, we have worked all night, and caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.”
What follows that act of obedience is an astounding catch of fish, a catch so large that the nets begin to tear. Peter frantically calls his partners in the other boat to come and help, and the weight now threatens to sink both boats. Peter reacts to these remarkable events with fear and utter dismay, for he senses that here is a power and a presence far beyond his own. And so he pleas with Jesus to leave him alone. But the good news is that Jesus does not leave Peter alone, nor does Jesus leave you and me alone. Jesus does not leave us to grovel in our sense of unworthiness. Instead, Jesus speaks words of encouragement and comfort, words of healing and empowerment, and lifts us while commissioning us with new tasks. To Peter Jesus says, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.”
Peter is given a task he could never have foreseen for himself; Peter is called to a mission far greater than anything he had previously conceived. From now on, he will be devoting himself to living and proclaiming life in God’s kingdom. Peter hears a similar message as the water-bearer shares with the cracked pot, that he is capable of doing tasks not yet understood, tasks not yet seen.
Is that not the power of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s assertion in his book The Cost of Discipleship?
And if we answer the call to discipleship, where will it lead us? What decisions and partings will it demand? To answer this question we shall have to go to Jesus, for only he knows the answer. Only Jesus Christ, who bids us follow, knows the journey’s end. But we do know that it will be a road of boundless mercy. Discipleship means joy.
Faith and discipleship are a matter of trusting that in Jesus we find One upon whom we can stake our lives. With all our cracks and fissures, even with the brokenness that is a part of our humanity, we are capable of doing great things in the kingdom of God—when we allow the Spirit of Christ to redeem and transform us, to make us new.
In a book entitled Ruthless Trust, Brennan Manning reminds us that humility before God is not a matter of belittling ourselves, of having such a low opinion of ourselves and our gifts that we gnash our teeth and ask the Spirit to flee from us. No, genuine humility, says Brennan, involves “undivided attention to God, a fascination with God’s beauty revealed in creation, a contemplative presence to each person who speaks to us, and a ‘de-selfing’ of our plans, projects, ambitions, and soul.” For Peter this means opening himself to a whole new purpose, living and proclaiming life in the kingdom of God. Peter finds himself reordering his priorities and embracing new commitments. And so it was for the cracked pot in the story of the Indian water-bearer.
After sharing this story of the cracked pot, Brennan Manning suggests,
Until the water-bearer’s revelation, the cracked pot was in a bad space. Stalked by self-consciousness and groveling in self-concern, it was distraught over its own inadequacy. And so it is with us … . Narcissism creeps in, and the ego replaces the self-forgetfulness of wonder and gratitude.
Hear that phrase: the self-forgetfulness of wonder and gratitude. Living in appreciation for God’s good gifts, we let go of our self-preoccupations and take the risk of embarking upon new paths as followers of Jesus. Wonder and gratitude become the impetus for adopting a new way of living and relating in the world around us.
In the aftermath of last Sunday’s broadcast of the Super Bowl, whose half-time program and TV advertisements one Washington Post critic describes as “the Super Bowl of Sleaze,” it may not be an appropriate time to highlight something from the advertising industry. But though it may not seem so these days, not all advertisements feature the crude or the offensive. More than ten years ago now, the Nike Company came up with a simple tag line, “Just do it.” Nike, of course, wanted us to purchase their shoes and T-shirts and athletic wear. But perhaps it is a fitting description of the call to discipleship. Forget about self, embrace the path of wonder and gratitude, and take the risk of heeding the voice of Jesus. Put out into the deep. Adopt a new vision for living. Love God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself. Go the extra mile in relationships. Pursue the things that make for peace. Do justice, love kindness, walk humbly with God. Become an ambassador of reconciliation. Share a cup of cold water with the thirsty. Feed the hungry; clothe the naked; visit the imprisoned; proclaim release to the captives; preach good news to the poor; walk in the footsteps of Jesus. Just do it! Do it now.
Anthony Bloom, archbishop in the Russian Orthodox Church, tells a story from the difficult days of the Russian Civil War that speaks to the challenges of Christian discipleship. It’s the story of a woman with two children, aged four and five, in danger of death because her husband, politically suspect, is imprisoned, his whereabouts unknown to her. The mother hides with her children in an abandoned house, hoping that an opportunity will present itself to escape from the area.
One evening a young woman named Natalie, a woman of similar age, comes to warn the mother that the enemy has located her and plans to come that very night. She will surely be executed. Warns Natalie, “You must escape at once.”
“But how can I?” cries the mother.
Responds Natalie, “You can, because I will stay behind and call myself by your name when the soldiers come for you.”
“But then you will be shot,” protests the desperate mother.
“Yes, but I have no children.”
Natalie did indeed stay behind, and one can only guess at the agony of spirit in those hours of waiting for certain death. And yet Natalie had determined that this is what it means to put out into the deep, to love God and neighbor. Later that night the soldiers did indeed come, and Natalie was shot. The mother and her children escaped.
Few of us, one would hope, will have to make such life-or-death decisions. But the challenge to put out into the deep is a call to embrace now a new way of living. It’s the way of self-forgetfulness, the way of wonder and gratitude and mercy and joy, the way of servanthood. It is a way of living that turns us outward to the tasks of feeding the hungry, offering hope to the broken, working for peace and reconciliation and justice, proclaiming the joy and promise of God’s love. Through the centuries the call of Christ echoes forth—Just do it! Do it now.
Holy, holy, holy are you, Lord God of hosts! All the earth is filled with your glory, and we come before you in wonder and gratitude. We marvel, O God, at the beauty of creation—at the loveliness of freshly-fallen snow, at the uniqueness of each individual snowflake, at the power of a day of sunshine to restore and refresh our spirits.
O God of all creation, you call us to obey your voice, to live as your people, to walk in the footsteps of Christ Jesus. Grant us courage, O God; grant us strength and determination to embrace a new way of living. Guide us in paths of service and paths of peace. Lead us along a journey of self-giving love, even as Jesus willingly chose to live, not for self alone, but for others.
Loving God who calls us to be a community of your people, bless our church. Fill us with your vision, as we discern leadership needs and consider the call of Jeanne Davies as our associate pastor. Bless us as we seek to be a place to deepen faith, proclaim peace, embrace community, welcome others, and serve our neighbor, in the compassionate spirit of Jesus.
Giver of all good gifts, fill our hearts with gratitude for the gift of life and for the promise and potential you have placed within each of us. We thank you, God for the gifts of long-time members and of new persons in our midst, for the gifts of young and old, of female and male. Unite us, God, in commitment to the ways of Christ Jesus our Redeemer.
Hear us now, holy God, as we hold before you those in special need of your healing touch … . Make each mindful that your light and love surround and uphold them.
God of justice and grace, hear our prayers for peace in our troubled world. Let the waste of warfare cease. Grant to the leader of our own nation—and all nations—wisdom to find alternative, nonviolent solutions to the conflicts that plague human life. And empower us who would walk in obedience to Jesus, to be proclaimers of a new vision of life lived in justice, love and peace. In the name of the One who came among us in peace and reconciliation, Jesus the Christ, we pray. Amen.