Put Out into the Deep Water
I like to be on the water. There is something soothing in the waves, the tides; calming and yet fearful. What can appear to be so peaceful can be hiding a million other things lurking below the surface. I prefer the Bay too lakes. (I capitalize Bay because for me there is no other besides the Chesapeake); the Bay can be more frightening, but it somehow makes more sense to me - the moving of the tides - the predictability of the tides coming in and out.
Of course, there is also the unpredictability of it all that also has its draw. The weather, the shifting winds, the seasons — all these things add to the wonder of the Bay. I have spent most of my time on the water, on the Rappahannock River, close to the Bay. We venture out into the Bay and you are always aware when you have left brackish water, or more shallow parts, and move out into the deep. The color of the water shifts, the waves become more random appearing, there is a shift in the smell of the air. You know you are not in Kansas anymore and are aware that risk has just increased.
In sailing, most beginning sailors like to stay close to the shorelines. There is comfort in seeing the shore, knowing the shore is there. Something shifts when you go out farther and can no longer see land. I always like to know that my motor is working. And my cell phone.
Today in our Gospel text, Jesus approaches Simon and asked him to “put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
Simon responded that they had worked all night long and had caught nothing, “… but if you say so, I will let down our nets.”
I can imagine Simon’s thoughts, “Well, this seems ridiculous, I have done all I can do”, but he was learning to trust Jesus at this time, and his confidence in Jesus seems to be building. So he trusted enough to listen to him - addressing him as “Master”at this point.
You know the story, as they let down their nets they caught so many fish that their nets began to break. And when Simon Peter saw it, he no longer addressed Jesus as Master, but rather fell on his knees and addressed him as Lord. Peter and the others grew in their awareness of who Jesus was and what Jesus was capable of. They grew in their awareness of God’s presence among them - as we all do.
I will go into the deep Lord, if you tell me to. I will go in the deep Lord, if you will go with me.
Bishop Porter Taylor recently wrote a meditation that he entitled, Leaving the Shallows. He shared the following in the beginning of his meditation in which he spoke of how he no longer had the luxury to stay in the shallows.
In her book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard writes this: “Thomas Merton wrote, ‘There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.’ There is always an enormous temptation in all of life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end. It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral, simply step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, I never merited this grace, quite rightly…I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and better, more extravagant, and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain or Lazarus.”
The shallows are always safer places to be. If you are close enough, you can jump in and pull your boat to shore. It is pleasant. You can see the minnows and smaller fish.
But when you are out in the deep, you no longer have that luxury. When you spot a fish, it may be larger than you wish - you may not know what to do with it. Out in the deep, you have to depend on other things to guide your way, to ensure your safety - and to reap the great benefit. It is only out on the deep water where certain things can happen.
Deep water is where the increase is. Deep water takes faith. Deep water is a risk. Focus of mind and heart are needed.
Jesus told Simon to go into the “deep water”.
In the deep there may be unexplored areas of potential beyond perceived limits of resources, knowledge, and energy.
The visibility in deep black water is next to nothing. You've got to trust the words and directions of others who have passed through deep water to make it there. Jesus is always inviting people to the deeper end of things.
In the midst of an unpromising situation, the future apostles let down their nets. When they do so, they caught an abundance of fish- their nets begin to break with the increase.
Faith requires us sometimes to do things that may not seem to make much sense to us at the time. It often does actually. It often requires us to go out deep.
It is time for all of us to go deep. These past two years have led to complacency in the lives of some about church attendance. Many have “gotten out of the habit” they say. Many have found some type of fulfillment on-line.
These things are true and have some merit. And add to it the lingering fears of Covid and being in groups of people, and the very real need to protect our health and the vulnerable among us, we may ask ourselves if it is worth coming back.
I want to challenge you if you are watching from home, or reading, or listening in some way - to go deep where you are. Use this time to pray. PRAY. Pray for the church and for the world around us. Pray for St. James. Pray for me.
I also want to challenge you to come back to church when you feel safe. Virtual Eucharist is not Eucharist. We nourish the body with sacraments, material signs of inward and spiritual grace. The church is a communal body of persons; a reflection of those gathered and a reflection of Christ’s body. Liturgy is a place of formation and a place of enacted bodily belief. We are the embodiment of Christ. It is through communal worship that we grow and are able to go deeper.
It is when Simon went deep that he saw more clearly who Jesus was.
In his book, “Embodied Liturgy, Virtual Reality and Liturgical Theology in Conversation,” (you will hear more about this book in days to come), Bishop C. Andrew Doyle, shares,
“Our participation with God in God’s narrative reminds us that God brings us together, that we are to be a blessing to each other, and that we are to live and work together, and in so doing make our pilgrim way towards God’s prepared ingathering. Moreover that this embodied relationship with God and each other is key to bringing about God’s justice and mercy. We cannot remove theology, missiology, liberation theology, or liturgical theology from the human body. Liturgy itself is always an act of revealing whose we are who we are. It is always an act deeply rooted in the revealed theology through God’s narrative. Liturgy is also an act of embodied justice-making as it brings different bodies together. For sacramental Christians, the liturgy and the Eucharist are both our place of unity and vulnerability with each other.”
There are some of us for whom attending worship at this time is not safe. Or maybe we are physically unable to. That is understandable. For others of us though, who continue to go about our lives in other spheres, it is time to regather. I will continue to monitor numbers and we will make decisions as best we can, and we will continue to wear masks and implement best practices for safety at this time, but it is time to come back together to worship together.
Participating in Eucharist is foundational to who we are. It is in the Eucharist that mystery happens. It is in the Eucharist that we meet God and each other. It through the Eucharist that we are embodied and that we become.
This pandemic has strained the church. God is calling us to go deep together. To no longer stay in the shallows where it is comfortable. To stop raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain or Lazarus.
Amen.
Of course, there is also the unpredictability of it all that also has its draw. The weather, the shifting winds, the seasons — all these things add to the wonder of the Bay. I have spent most of my time on the water, on the Rappahannock River, close to the Bay. We venture out into the Bay and you are always aware when you have left brackish water, or more shallow parts, and move out into the deep. The color of the water shifts, the waves become more random appearing, there is a shift in the smell of the air. You know you are not in Kansas anymore and are aware that risk has just increased.
In sailing, most beginning sailors like to stay close to the shorelines. There is comfort in seeing the shore, knowing the shore is there. Something shifts when you go out farther and can no longer see land. I always like to know that my motor is working. And my cell phone.
Today in our Gospel text, Jesus approaches Simon and asked him to “put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”
Simon responded that they had worked all night long and had caught nothing, “… but if you say so, I will let down our nets.”
I can imagine Simon’s thoughts, “Well, this seems ridiculous, I have done all I can do”, but he was learning to trust Jesus at this time, and his confidence in Jesus seems to be building. So he trusted enough to listen to him - addressing him as “Master”at this point.
You know the story, as they let down their nets they caught so many fish that their nets began to break. And when Simon Peter saw it, he no longer addressed Jesus as Master, but rather fell on his knees and addressed him as Lord. Peter and the others grew in their awareness of who Jesus was and what Jesus was capable of. They grew in their awareness of God’s presence among them - as we all do.
I will go into the deep Lord, if you tell me to. I will go in the deep Lord, if you will go with me.
Bishop Porter Taylor recently wrote a meditation that he entitled, Leaving the Shallows. He shared the following in the beginning of his meditation in which he spoke of how he no longer had the luxury to stay in the shallows.
In her book, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek, Annie Dillard writes this: “Thomas Merton wrote, ‘There is always a temptation to diddle around in the contemplative life, making itsy-bitsy statues.’ There is always an enormous temptation in all of life to diddle around making itsy-bitsy friends and meals and journeys for itsy-bitsy years on end. It is so self-conscious, so apparently moral, simply step aside from the gaps where the creeks and winds pour down, saying, I never merited this grace, quite rightly…I won’t have it. The world is wilder than that in all directions, more dangerous and better, more extravagant, and bright. We are making hay when we should be making whoopee; we are raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain or Lazarus.”
The shallows are always safer places to be. If you are close enough, you can jump in and pull your boat to shore. It is pleasant. You can see the minnows and smaller fish.
But when you are out in the deep, you no longer have that luxury. When you spot a fish, it may be larger than you wish - you may not know what to do with it. Out in the deep, you have to depend on other things to guide your way, to ensure your safety - and to reap the great benefit. It is only out on the deep water where certain things can happen.
Deep water is where the increase is. Deep water takes faith. Deep water is a risk. Focus of mind and heart are needed.
Jesus told Simon to go into the “deep water”.
In the deep there may be unexplored areas of potential beyond perceived limits of resources, knowledge, and energy.
The visibility in deep black water is next to nothing. You've got to trust the words and directions of others who have passed through deep water to make it there. Jesus is always inviting people to the deeper end of things.
In the midst of an unpromising situation, the future apostles let down their nets. When they do so, they caught an abundance of fish- their nets begin to break with the increase.
Faith requires us sometimes to do things that may not seem to make much sense to us at the time. It often does actually. It often requires us to go out deep.
It is time for all of us to go deep. These past two years have led to complacency in the lives of some about church attendance. Many have “gotten out of the habit” they say. Many have found some type of fulfillment on-line.
These things are true and have some merit. And add to it the lingering fears of Covid and being in groups of people, and the very real need to protect our health and the vulnerable among us, we may ask ourselves if it is worth coming back.
I want to challenge you if you are watching from home, or reading, or listening in some way - to go deep where you are. Use this time to pray. PRAY. Pray for the church and for the world around us. Pray for St. James. Pray for me.
I also want to challenge you to come back to church when you feel safe. Virtual Eucharist is not Eucharist. We nourish the body with sacraments, material signs of inward and spiritual grace. The church is a communal body of persons; a reflection of those gathered and a reflection of Christ’s body. Liturgy is a place of formation and a place of enacted bodily belief. We are the embodiment of Christ. It is through communal worship that we grow and are able to go deeper.
It is when Simon went deep that he saw more clearly who Jesus was.
In his book, “Embodied Liturgy, Virtual Reality and Liturgical Theology in Conversation,” (you will hear more about this book in days to come), Bishop C. Andrew Doyle, shares,
“Our participation with God in God’s narrative reminds us that God brings us together, that we are to be a blessing to each other, and that we are to live and work together, and in so doing make our pilgrim way towards God’s prepared ingathering. Moreover that this embodied relationship with God and each other is key to bringing about God’s justice and mercy. We cannot remove theology, missiology, liberation theology, or liturgical theology from the human body. Liturgy itself is always an act of revealing whose we are who we are. It is always an act deeply rooted in the revealed theology through God’s narrative. Liturgy is also an act of embodied justice-making as it brings different bodies together. For sacramental Christians, the liturgy and the Eucharist are both our place of unity and vulnerability with each other.”
There are some of us for whom attending worship at this time is not safe. Or maybe we are physically unable to. That is understandable. For others of us though, who continue to go about our lives in other spheres, it is time to regather. I will continue to monitor numbers and we will make decisions as best we can, and we will continue to wear masks and implement best practices for safety at this time, but it is time to come back together to worship together.
Participating in Eucharist is foundational to who we are. It is in the Eucharist that mystery happens. It is in the Eucharist that we meet God and each other. It through the Eucharist that we are embodied and that we become.
This pandemic has strained the church. God is calling us to go deep together. To no longer stay in the shallows where it is comfortable. To stop raising tomatoes when we should be raising Cain or Lazarus.
Amen.