Text:  Luke 5:1-11                                                                                    5^th Sunday of Epiphany

Simon Says

            In the name of him who gives us the words of eternal life, dear brothers and sisters in Christ:  I’m fairly sure that everyone here is familiar with a game for young children called “Simon Says”.  In this game, one child, designated “Simon”, issues instructions to the other players like “hop on one foot” or “spin around in circles”, things like that.  Each command is to be performed by all the players – but only if the speaker prefaces it with the words “Simon says”. You lose when you follow a command not issued in the majestic name of Simon.  It’s pretty simple – but that’s the best kind of game for young children. And what makes it interesting is that young children (and for that matter all children) are not particularly attentive when someone is issuing instructions; that, and they are easily deceived.  So, the caller will say, “Simon says: hop on one foot.”  And he’ll start doing it to illustrate what he means. All the players follow suit.  Then the caller will shift his feet and say, “Okay, now hop on the other foot.”  And sure enough, there will be several players, caught up in the wild thrill of hopping (I guess), who follow the example without noticing that the command lacked the magic words.  They’re busted – because the caller didn’t say, “Simon says”.

            Now, as I recall from my tender youth, it’s a game that wears out pretty quickly.  Before long, everyone catches on, and following or not following the commands as appropriate becomes nothing more than drudgery.  But in the process of all the hopping, spinning, high stepping, and crawling, we learn another valuable lesson.  And that’s that the next time one of your playmates says to the group, “Hey, let’s play “Simon Says”, you say, “Okay, but only if I get to be Simon”.  Veterans of the game know that it’s a whole lot more fun to be the one standing there issuing instructions than to be one of the poor slobs who are supposed to obey them.  And so I think it would be fair to call it an educational game, first because it teaches us to be more attentive to what we hear; but more importantly, because as we grow older, we begin to apply its second lesson for real:  we want to be Simon.  In one way or another, we all struggle to mark out our own little territory, maybe a farm, a business, an organization, a home … or maybe it’s just your own office, room, or car.  Whatever it is, it’s something that you can stake claim over and where you can be the one calling the shots … some piece of turf where you expect to be obeyed, and where you can say to someone, “Hey, what are you doing?  Did I tell you to do that?  No? Well, then don’t.”

            For Simon, who would later become known as Peter, that little territory was his fishing boat.  On shore, Simon was just a regular working-class guy caught up in the rat race of life.  He had a wife, a home, probably some kids – and while everyone would have said that he was the head of the household, still, if his was like most Jewish homes, the house was definitely his wife’s domain – it was her territory.  And if he was a smart man and wanted to be happy, he didn’t challenge that too hard.  Besides, to complicate matters, his mother-in-law lived with them in the house; so there were two women culturally programmed to manage a household trying to assert themselves there.  That’s a potentially volatile situation that no man wants to be caught in the middle of. For Simon, the household was a place of compromise.  So it only makes sense that Simon would have turned elsewhere for his own place to dictate instructions – like his business, say.

            But here too his voice was anything but final.  He had two partners:  James and John, brothers, the sons of Zebedee.  Whenever a business decision had to be made, Simon’s was only one of three votes.  And I’m willing to bet that the two brothers usually voted as a block, so that most of the time, if there were any disagreement about how things should be done, it was Simon’s say that lost out.  More often than not he’d find himself, figuratively speaking, hopping on one foot while others called the play.

            Ah, but all that changed every evening in the very second that his boat left the shore.  It was his boat and he was man in charge.  And this would have been a fairly good sized craft; larger than the one pictured on the worship folder which looks like a little 12 foot rowboat.  We know that there were times when Jesus and all twelve of his disciples crossed the lake in one these boats, and that there was still room for Jesus to lay down and sleep in the stern sheets – so Simon’s boat would have been what, maybe 20 feet long or more, with a crew of four, five, maybe six guys to operate it and handle the nets?  And while the boat is on the lake, Simon is the unquestioned master and commander of both craft and crew.  He’s a seasoned sailor and fisherman, he knows his trade, and his crew respects him so that onboard this craft the only things that happen are what Simon says.

            And that’s exactly what’s been going on all the very long and unproductive preceding night.  Like usual, Simon and the crew gathered around 9:00 PM, and set off for a night’s work.  That’s when the fish came into the shallow water near the shoreline to feed – and so that’s when fishing was the most profitable.  On a normal night, after six or seven hours of work, they’d have caught plenty of fish.  They’d bring them in an hour or so before daylight while it was still fairly cool, and Simon would sell what he could to the fishmongers at the daily open-air market. These fish would be the noon meal for lots of people in Capernaum. If the catch were exceptionally large, Simon could take what the mongers didn’t buy to those who preserved fish in salt and oil.  Without refrigeration, fish didn’t last long in the hot Galilean sun.  And while Simon was out bargaining the best price for his fish, his crew would be cleaning and repairing the nets, hanging them up to dry, and readying the boat for the coming evening’s work.  On a good day, Simon would be back to the boat by 7:00 AM, with his pockets full. He’d thoroughly inspect the crew’s work to ensure everything was in proper order, make a few corrections here and there to show that he was still the man in charge, and then he’d pay the men their wages and dismiss them for the day.

            That’s what would happen on a good day … but today was not one of them.  No, indeed, though they had worked all night – several hours past the time they normally headed for home – they’d not caught a thing.  Early on in the evening, every time they let down the nets there was the hope this would be the cast that would break the string of bad luck.  But time after time as they pulled them back in, long before they had them all aboard, the crew could tell by the feel of the nets that it was another empty effort.  Somewhere along in the middle of the night, they pretty much gave up hope.  They knew that it was just one of those nights that they weren’t going to catch anything.  The best the crew could hope for was for the boss to admit it to himself, head in, and call it a day.  They could hope anyway … but this was Simon’s boat, and the only thing that mattered on board was what Simon says.  And Simon wasn’t giving up.  He had them head for all their usual fishing areas.  And when those failed him, he had them head for areas they didn’t use so often that were much farther away.  And all the way there and back, well past sunrise when they should have been walking back to their homes, Simon was still ordering them to let the nets down for another cast.  They were all tired, frustrated, and beginning to get angry … but they did it because Simon said.

For his part, when he finally brought the boat back in, Simon was in a sour and surly mood.  He didn’t have a thing to show for the night’s work, the crew was acting sullen and sluggish, responding almost resentfully to his increasingly sharp commands, and he still had to pay them – this time not from the night’s proceeds, but rather from his own pocket.  He had to go home to get the money – and face his wife and mother-in-law, both of whom were quick to show their irritation when he dipped into what they considered to be the household fund (and therefore part of their territory).  As he walked back to the shore, he thought to himself how he’d be hearing about it later – and that too added to his sour disposition.  When he arrived, he was surprised to see the nets already hanging up to dry and the crew standing around idle, just waiting to be paid.  “How’d they get done so fast?”  Simple: because it was so late and they were so eager to get going, they did a hasty and sloppy job.  Simon could see weeds and debris still stuck in the nets, and holes that fish could easily swim through.  “Not so fast, fellas.” he barked at them, “Take them down, and get them squared away right.”  And though it made them very angry, they did it – because Simon said.

So it was that Simon and his crew found themselves still busy with the nets on the shoreline in the mid morning hour when Jesus and the large crowd following him appeared. Now understand that at this point in time, Simon knows Jesus – they’ve actually met and spent some time together. It began several months earlier, when, caught up in the religious excitement stirred up by John the Baptist, Simon and his brother Andrew had journeyed to the desert to hear the fiery preacher’s call to repentance.  John had baptized them, and the two brothers stayed on with him for several weeks being discipled in the Word and taught about the coming kingdom of God. They were still with John when Jesus came to be baptized.  And it was then that John had told them that this man Jesus was the long promised Savior. Simon and his brother spent an evening listening to Jesus teach.  But after his baptism, Jesus had gone away into the wilderness to be tempted; and in the meantime, Simon had gone back home and returned to work.  Several weeks later, Jesus showed up in Capernaum. Simon was present when Jesus was invited to speak in the synagogue; so he heard him again, and there he saw Jesus command a demon to come out of a possessed man.  Simon was so impressed that he invited Jesus to stay in his home while he was in town.  Jesus accepted; but when they got to the house they found Simon’s mother-in-law deathly ill with a high fever.  Just as Simon was thinking that due to the circumstances inviting Jesus to his home had been a mistake, Jesus went in to the room where the sick woman laid and commanded the fever to depart.  It did. It was amazing.  Stranger still, from Simon’s perspective, was that the old woman then got up, went into the kitchen, and happily began serving dinner to them all.  This was his mother-in-law after all.  He was used to her crabby, nit-picking and constant angry criticism.  He’d never seen her so energetic and eager to please. This was truly a miracle he thought. Well, then word got out about the cured fever, and soon the house was surrounded by people asking Jesus to heal them too – and he did.  People kept coming long into the night; but finally they stopped, and Simon and his guest were allowed a few hours rest.  In the morning, however, Jesus was already gone.  He’d left to take his message to other towns around the lake.

Simon had not seen Jesus since – until right now, as several hundred people crowded around him, all trying to get close to him, to hear him, to have their questions answered, their complaints heard.  He was being mobbed like a major celebrity, and there was no crowd control police to hold them back.  Jesus was looking for a way to keep order and deal with them efficiently.  And that’s when he spied the boat – Simon’s boat – Simon’s private domain, where his word was law and no one but no one told him what to do.  Simon saw Jesus look directly at the boat and start heading for it. He got up from the nets he was working on and moved to intercept Jesus, getting to the boat just a few steps before. Simon stood in front of the bow, instinctively protecting his little empire; but to his amazement, Jesus stepped right past him and got into it.  “Cast off a bit from the shore, will you, Simon?”

Put yourself in Simon’s shoes.  What do you do?  It’s one thing to decide to invite the Messiah (if indeed that’s who he is) on the Sabbath Day, a day in which control is already compromised because it belongs to the Lord, over to the house – which is safe because it’s sort of contested ground; but it’s a different thing entirely to have this presumptuous preacher, on a workday – which belongs to me, and on which I’ve just about reached my limit, and after I’m already off and should be home resting – so it’s doubly my time, step right into my very own private, sacred domain and start giving instructions.  Just who does he think he is?  (Of course, the more important question to contend with is:  just who do you think he is?) And all of this going on in poor Simon’s head in just a fraction of a second – he’s got to say yes or no. What’ll it be?  “Well,” he thinks, “I can hardly say “no” after all Jesus did for me already.  The mother-in-law and wife both have been so much easier to live with since his short stay. Besides, if he is who John said he is …”.  Simon signaled to his crew who by force of habit respond without even thinking. They quickly grab up the net they’ve been working on, hop in the boat and shove off.  By working the oars a little now and then they manage to keep the boat stationary about 30 feet away from the shore.  The crowd sits on the sloping beach that forms a natural amphitheater where all can see and hear clearly.  And Jesus speaks to them from the boat. 

Simon too sits listening from the stern.  This is something he is not at all accustomed to doing on this boat.  Usually it’s his voice that has all the authority here. It makes him quite uncomfortable, and the other irritations he’s had to contend with today aren’t making it any better … and yet, he can’t help himself from being drawn in by Jesus’ message. There is sublime wisdom and strange power in what he says.  Simon tries to remain angry, but the stories Jesus tells keep pulling him out of it – and this too Simon finds a little irritating.  “I’m tired, hungry, and my boat’s been hijacked, and I can’t even stay mad about it.  Who really is this man?  Why does what Jesus says affect me so?”

            At about noon Jesus wraps up his message.  He dismisses the crowd so they can go home and get their dinner.  And Simon thinks that he too is about to be dismissed with a great big thank you from Jesus for his services this day.  “Why, Simon, you saved my life.  I couldn’t have done it without you and your boat.  If there’s any way I could ever return the favor …”.  But those words never come.  Instead Jesus turns to him and says, “Put her out into the deep water and let down the nets for a catch.”  This time it wasn’t even a request:  it was a command.  Simon feels his dander rising again.  “I’ll admit he knows a lot about religion; but he sure doesn’t know a thing about fishing.  Broad daylight … deep water … I suppose I’ll have to prove to him who’s the expert—and whose boat this really is.” “Okay, Jesus, we’ve wearied ourselves fishing all night without a bit of luck; but you’re the boss.  We’ll do what you say.”  The crew members look at Simon incredulously … pleadingly … you’re not serious, are you?  But a scowl from the boat’s master lets them know that’s exactly what he means – and that they had better obey.

            After they’d sailed some distance from the shore, far beyond the point that Simon knew it was pointless to even attempt a catch, with some thinly feigned subservience he asked Jesus, “Will this do?”  Jesus just smiled. “Yes, Simon.  This will do just fine.  Put down the nets.”  Simon relayed the order:  “You heard the man.  Do what he says.”  Confused and exchanging puzzled glances, the crew obeyed.  No sooner had they put them out and Jesus said, “That’s good.  Now bring them back up.”  Simon was about to say something about leaving them out longer and pulling them behind the boat for some distance to maximize the catch, but he caught himself. “No, I’ve got to show him that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” “Gentlemen, don’t ask any questions. Just do what Jesus says.” 

            And you know the story:  they did. But now ask yourself, “What’s going on in Simon’s mind as he feels the boat heel over at the tremendous weight of the nets, and he sees his men straining hand over hand to pull them aboard, and now hundreds of fish making the surface of the lake white with their terrified thrashing?”  Simon is struck dumb.  And it all comes crashing in on him.  This Jesus who has been incrementally entering and influencing my world … no, who has actually cast his net over me, is so much more than an inspired teacher and healer who can cast out demons.  It dawns on him that it didn’t matter where they put down the nets:  the fish would have been wherever Jesus said.  His Word has real authority.  What he says happens.  And then it hits him that it was no accident that he caught nothing the night before.  “Jesus, who wasn’t even here, did that too.  Why?  To show me that I don’t have the slightest bit of power or authority even where I think I have the most.  And still, here I’ve been angry and resentful with him trying to protect my precious turf … trying to maintain control, imagining that what Simon says is what matters most.  And all along he’s known that too.  What must he think of me?”

            Simon fell before Jesus’ knees full of holy awe for him and feeling foolish and ashamed of himself.  “Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man.”  He was torn three ways:  he was feeling wretched and unworthy to be in the Lord’s presence – so utterly aware of his sin.  At the same time, he felt threatened, fearing what Jesus’ continued participation in his life would mean.  He felt certain that it would mean more and more giving up of what Simon says, and that frightened him.  But overall these fears he felt a sense of great need, still powerfully drawn to this Jesus, so that even when he told him to go away, he desperately hoped he would say, “No, Simon; I’m here to stay.”

            And that, of course, is pretty much what he did hear.  “Don’t be afraid, Simon.  From now on you will catch men.”  Words of grace and forgiveness; and more than that, words that assured Simon that there was a place and a purpose for him in the kingdom ordered and directed by what Jesus says – a vast kingdom where by the power of his Word the work is always full and rewarding.  So it’s small wonder that when they reached the shore, Simon beached his little boat – the piece of turf once ruled by what Simon says – and left it behind.

            My question for you this morning is this:  What’s your little boat?  Where’s that piece of turf – either physical or within you – that you’re holding back from what Jesus says … where you’re afraid to let go of command even though the returns are always empty and unsatisfying, but where you are nevertheless telling Jesus, “Go away.”  If you know of which I speak, I have good news for you.  Jesus says he’s here to stay.  And now he’s stepping aboard your little boat, forgiving you of your stubborn resistance and fear, and giving you his Word to direct and to guide.  Let your Simon be silent, and let him listen to, believe, and keep close to heart what Jesus says.  Amen.

Soli Deo Gloria!