THE GOD WHO WILL NOT LET YOU GO
(Preached on Sunday, February 8, 2004)
But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” ...Then Jesus said to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.” -Luke 5:8, 10b
Do you identify with Peter?
I don’t mean in general or in the mythical sense in which we know Peter as the rock on which Jesus built the church, but in this picture we just heard described?
I know I sure do.
Whenever I sense God asking me to do something, calling me to some task, I generally feel just like Peter: “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!”
I can remember the first time I sensed my call from God to the ordained ministry.
My first reaction was “No way! Not me.”
And that is often still my reaction today.
I think most of us feel that way much of the time.
We don’t quite feel worthy.
When small children do well in anything, their parents praise them. Grandparents get downright nauseous in their adulation.
But when kids grow up, we expect them to just keep on working hard and doing all the right things, whether there is any reward at the end or not.
Problem is, we never really grow up.
We get older and bigger, but our fundamental needs don’t change.
You don’t have to scratch any of us pseudo-adults very deeply to see the small child with upturned face, longing for affirmation.
That need for affirmation doesn’t change when we encounter God.
We’re still not quite sure we measure up.
Like poor Peter, we drop to our knees and shout, “Look, God. My life is all messed up! I’m just a kid and I mess my pants regularly. Find a real adult to do your work.”
Out on Lake Galilee in his boat, Peter sensed something extraordinarily holy in this man Jesus.
Maybe Peter had up to this point been intrigued by a fascinating human being.
He had made friends with a great fellow Jew.
Now, though, he was overwhelmed with something that was indescribable.
He knew he was unworthy of it.
Here was the true glory of something much greater, and he, Peter, felt like a writhing little grub in its Presence.
So he declared this truth loud and clear and tried to shoo Jesus away from him.
Yet Jesus told him not to be afraid, that he was just the man Jesus was looking for to help him in his work.
That’s a common story, over and over again in the Bible.
Isaiah was in the temple one day and had an overwhelming vision of the glory and might and power of God.
In the presence of that awesome vision Isaiah too becomes crystal clear about how far removed from God’s glory he is.
However, his sense of unworthiness is dispelled through the awesome power of God blotting out his sin and removing his guilt.
No longer were there any barriers to his responding to God’s call to proclaim God’s word of justice to the people of his day.
The apostle Paul reflected his sense of unworthiness when he described himself as unfit to be called an apostle because he persecuted the church of God.
Yet he witnessed that through the grace of God he had become a different person.
He responded to God’s call to proclaim the good news of Jesus to the people of his day.
The calls of Isaiah, Paul and Simon Peter tell us something about God.
That people are called, despite their imperfections, to give shape to God’s vision of justice and love and peace for the world.
God looks beyond our faults and our fears and empowers us to be new people.
The biblical witness is very clear: God operates the most perverse personnel agency imaginable.
God calls an infertile couple to be parents of a nation (Abraham & Sarah); gives to a liar the stewardship of God’s truth (Jacob); entrusts an arrogant and dreamy youth with the practical business of saving two peoples from starvation (Joseph); makes a prince the leader of a slave revolt and a murderer the all-time great lawgiver (Moses); makes a small boy a giant killer and a great military leader (David); makes a venal, scheming, murderous adulterer a truly great king and the bench mark of all future leaders (David).
Over and over again God calls those who by any standard of prudence and common sense are completely unfit for incomparable effectiveness in God’s service.
Our temptation is to view the biblical narrative as though through stained-glass window glasses.
We think of the people of the Bible as a rare and exotic breed of human beings who were naturally more interested in things of God and congenitally given to dedication to God’s cause.
We focus on their heroic acts and forget what they were like before they fell into God’s hands and surrendered themselves to God’s purposes.
Not only do many of the people used by God have faults and weaknesses, they often have faults and weaknesses that would seem to disqualify them for the unique purpose for which God uses them.
God’s power is made manifest in weakness.
That reality should be the source of our healing and hope.
In the world, if you would do great things, you must be unusually competent, flawless and faultless or at least able to fool yourself and other people into thinking that you are.
To maintain oneself at this pitch of accomplishment is impossible. Witness our political process.
Human beings are routinely broken under such a heavy burden.
In the gospel, God’s good news,, if you would do great things, you need not be without flaw or weakness (in fact, if you say you are, you deceive yourself).
You need not have a remarkable ability — only a remarkable availability.
You need only the faith that what has been demonstrated by God in using others more unlikely than you, God can certainly bring to pass in your case.
Humility and surrender, not perfection and accomplishment, are the passports of the healing journey to greatness in God’s service.
What great good news to people who have tried so hard and failed so often!
Generally, we don’t feel worthy of God and the work God calls us to undertake.
Peter experienced the great goodness and amazing abundance and generosity of God present in Jesus of Nazareth and he cried out: “Depart from me, I am a sinful man!”
The good news is, God never does leave us alone.
This God never lets us go.
There was once a teenage girl who was deeply troubled.
Her mom and dad had divorced.
She had become increasingly rebellious.
Late one night the police arrested her for drunk driving.
Mom had to go to the police station to pick her up.
They didn’t speak until the next afternoon.
Mom broke the tension by giving her troubled daughter a small gift-wrapped box. The daughter nonchalantly opened it and found a little rock inside. She rolled her eyes and said, “Cute, Mom, what is this for?”
“Read the card,” Mom instructed.
Her daughter took the card out of the envelope and read it.
Tears started to trickle down her cheeks.
She got up and lovingly hugged her mom as the card fell to the floor. On the card were these words: “This rock is more than 200,000,000 years old. That is how long it will take before I give up on you.”
Will Willimon tells a story from his first church in rural Georgia. He stood one Sunday and invited the congregation to God’s table for holy communion.
But nobody came forward.
After the service, he asked why no one came forward.
“I guess they just didn’t think they was worthy,” said one.
“Oh,” Willimon said, “They’re not. Nor am I.”
They had admitted all that up front, at the very beginning of the worship when they confessed their sin.
We are unworthy even to gather up the crumbs under the table.
Depart from us, for we are sinful!
Get out of here, Jesus of Nazareth!
But no, there’s an invitation rather than a rejection.
There’s the bread. There’s the cup.
They are reminding us — we won’t get rid of this God.
For the response of God to our abject guilt is always the same: “You are my beloved. You I care for, in just the shape I find you. You do not have to become perfect for me to love you. I am God, you are not. Just relax for a while. Know that my love is very strong. Know that I love you well because I am love. Take this love out to my other beloved friends in the world.”
No wonder Peter was astonished.
The presence of God is really the presence of forgiving love.
When this reaches my soul I can hardly wait to bring such love to everybody I can find.
No wonder Peter and the others left everything and followed Jesus. Let’s do the same. Let’s join God in the grand, marvelous mission of loving the world.