Jesus needs your boat

I have been preaching through the gospel of Luke this year, and recently I came back to the passage in Luke 5 called the ‘miraculous catch of fish’ (Luke 5:1-11). The premise is that Jesus had been preaching and teaching to the people, and that the crowd had gotten so big that Jesus got in Peter’s boat and preached to the crowd from there.

“He (Jesus) got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon (Peter), and asked him to put out a little from the shore” (Luke 5:3).

Peter was a fisherman, Peter had a boat. Jesus asked Peter to use his boat, because that’s what Peter had to offer. Sometimes we skip over such great details in the Bible because we want to get right to the miracle. Maybe we do the same things in our life as well? But every detail in Scripture is here for a reason. The miracle will happen, and we will get there. But first notice that Jesus used what Peter had.

You are uniquely equipped for special purposes that God has in store for you, God has given you what God needs to use you to fulfil his Kingdom purpose.

Jesus is gonna ask to use your stuff, because He has given it to you for a reason, and maybe that reason is for such a time as this.

And what about that crowd? It would have been easier for Jesus to send them away, or to tell them they needed to get in small groups (or Sunday School classes or Life Groups, or whatever we call them now) because that would be easier to manage. Or maybe they should just go to the synagogue on the Sabbath to hear the word of God.

But Jesus didn’t do that. On June 6, 1742 John Wesley, the founder of the Methodist movement, came back to Epworth, England his hometown. The priest there did not want John to preach that day, because John had become, what the church, called, “an enthusiast”. This group of people were advocating for a revival of the Holy Spirit in worship, and seemed OK with going out to preach on the docks and in the fields, and even take the sacred wine and bread of the Eucharist to people where they were, instead of requiring people to come to church.

A group of people wanted to hear what Wesley had to say, however, so since he was not allowed to preach in the church, he told them to come back at 6PM and he would preach outside the church. John’s father had been the pastor of this church for many years, and there was a cemetery behind the church. At 6PM the crowd was so large that John could not see them all. He was in a cemetery so there wasn’t anything to stand on so that he could see all the people in the back except…his father’s tombstone. So, John stood on that tombstone, and wrote in his journal that “I stood near the east end of the church, upon my father’s tomb stone and cried, ‘The kingdom of heaven is not meat and drink, but righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy Ghost.”

Our Christian DNA is to preach the word of God creatively in any circumstance so that all the people can hear. John’s pulpit was his father’s grave, and Jesus’ pulpit was a boat on the Sea of Galilee.

Sometimes we have to move to be able to really see the people.

                Maybe that means getting out of what is comfortable to us. The church where I serve as pastor has a motto of “Open Hearts. Open Minds. Open Doors”. I wish that were really true for all of us, that we would go to whatever imaginable height, or depth, to share with just one person the love that Jesus has for them. That’s what Jesus meant when he said a shepherd leaves the 99 sheep to go after the 1. It doesn’t make sense, really, unless you are the 1.

                How can we move to be able to see the people around us and share God’s Word to them where they are?               

Sawabona

I read a blog from Junius Dotson, the United Methodist Secretary for Discipleship Ministries, and he wrote:

“In Johannesburg, South Africa, I learned a greeting called “Sawabona.” It translates to something like “I see you,” or “We see you.” The traditional response is “Yebo, sawabona,” which means “Yes, I see you, too.”

Something I found very interesting – and very heartwarming – about this greeting is that it says, in effect, that I acknowledge your presence. I recognize the dignity of your existence. You are not overlooked. You are not ignored.”[i]

That reminded me of a story from the Bible. In Genesis chapter 16, we are told that a servant-girl named Hagaar had ran away from her master Abraham and  his wife Sarah. Hagaar had given Abraham a son, but Sarah, Abraham’s wife, became very bitter and mean toward Hagaar (even though it was Sarah’s idea to have her husband have sex with Hagaar). While Hagaar was pregnant, she couldn’t take it anymore, and ran off alone into the desert.

 Let me just say here that was messed up! I hear people say how awful our society is today, and how far we have fallen morally, and while I agree there is a great gulf between the “world” and the things of God, there has been since Genesis chapter 3. Some of the stories in the Old Testament are atrocious as to why people did what they did, much like today. I don’t necessarily think that things are all that much worse, but they are differently bad.

So, back to the story. Hagaar sat down beside a spring in the wilderness. She was alone. She was tired. She was helpless. She had no hope. Then an angel from God showed up and gave her encouragement, and proclaimed a future for her and for her son.

The part I find most interesting is Genesis 16:13,

“Hagaar used another name to refer to the Lord, who had spoken to her. She said, ‘You are

the God who sees me’.”

In the United Methodist church where I serve as pastor we have begun a 2019 worship series from Discipleship Ministries entitled, “See all the People”. The basis of this series comes from the children’s rhyme, “this is the church, this is the steeple, open the doors and see all the people”.  Fittingly, our UMC slogan is “Open hearts. Open doors. Open minds”.

Yesterday I got to play peek-a-boo with a friend’s grandson. His name is Josiah. Josiah loves to be held by one person, while another person is hiding behind their back, says his name, “Josiah, Josiah”, and then pops up in front of him with a “peek-a-boo, I see you”.  It made him laugh, so that was fun. But it reminded me of this basic instinct that we all have from a very young age to be known by name, and to really be seen.

There are people who desperately need to know that they are seen.  There are people in our church buildings who come in every Sunday and sit on the pews, but need to know they are seen. There are cashiers who scan your groceries, servers who bring your food to your table, even strangers standing in line at the bank, who need to know that they are seen.

There are homeless and hurting people who feel invisible to the society around them, a society that they don’t even feel that they are a part of. There are hurting and broken people who feel ashamed to show others who they really are, for fear that being really seen would mean to be rejected. There are wives in abusive relationships who just want to be seen.

There are young children, both boys and girls, suffering the atrocities of human slavery.

And God sees them.

And we are called to see them to too!

#Allthepeople

Hagaar named the place where the angel came to her Beer-lahai-roi, which means “the well of the living One who sees me”.

El-roi means the God who sees you.

In whatever place you find yourself today, there is hope. You are not alone.

Sawabona, my friend. I see you. And God sees you.

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[i] https://us1.campaign-archive.com/?u=756434a4416d9bc710b1f7cfe&id=d06f57ee38&e=373f106bc4