That’s Jesus
In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.
When I was in high school, I found myself attracted to questions of philosophy and theology and I was very fortunate to have two amazing chaplains who had a profound impact on my life. By the time I was 16 or 17, I tried reading Kirkegaard and Sartre understanding only a small amount of what I was taking in. But I was fascinated by the question of faith and what it meant to have faith. One day, one of my chaplains saw me reading a book of theology and said something to me that I will never forget. I’ve spoken about this before, but he said to me, “Randy, you know you can’t find faith by reading about someone else’s faith. You can learn about their experience, but faith is something else altogether. If you want to find faith, then you have to decide if you are willing to commit yourself. You have to decide what or who you’re gonna follow. And if you decide to follow Jesus, then you better understand what you’re getting yourself into.” What he taught me that day was that faith isn’t primarily about intellectual understanding, it’s more about commitment and trust and ultimately risk.
That’s exactly what Simon Peter discovered in our lesson this morning. Peter was a fisherman—an ordinary man, not a scholar or religious leader. He spent his days casting and hauling nets, relying on the water, the weather, and a little luck. But on this particular day, luck had failed him. He and his friends had fished all night and caught nothing. Exhausted and frustrated, they were cleaning their nets, ready to call it a day.
Then Jesus showed up. Peter had likely never heard of him, but the sheer number of people following Jesus made one thing clear—this man was important. Peter could have refused when Jesus climbed into his boat and asked him to push out a little from shore. But something about Jesus moved him, so he agreed.
From the boat, Jesus taught the crowd. When he finished, he turned to Peter and said something that must have sounded ridiculous: “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets.” Peter had been fishing all night. He had caught nothing. And now a preacher—who had likely never fished a day in his life—was giving advice? He protested at first but ultimately obeyed.
The result was astonishing. A catch so large the nets tore under the weight, so many fish the boats nearly capsized. In that moment, Peter knew—Jesus was more than a teacher, more than an itinerant preacher. Then came the call. “Follow me.” Leave your nets. Step out into the deep waters of life. And Peter, the fisherman, the ordinary man, did just that. He left everything… and followed Jesus.
I wonder… I wonder if Peter had any idea what he was really getting himself into that day. When Jesus told him to push out into the deep water, did he think it was just about fishing? Or did something in those words stir something greater? Because deep water, that’s dangerous water. That’s where the currents are unpredictable, where you can’t touch the bottom, where you are no longer in control. Did Peter know that following Jesus would lead him into deep water in more ways than one? Did he know that this wasn’t just an invitation to an adventure, but a calling that would change his life—and eventually, cost him everything? Could he have imagined, in that moment, that one day, following Jesus would lead him to die on a cross of his own? I wonder… if Peter had known all that from the very beginning, would he still have said yes?
And what about us? Jesus is still calling. Still inviting. Still leading us into deep waters—places of risk, places that require faith, places where we are no longer in control. The question is, are we willing to follow? Because like Peter, we don’t always know where that call will take us. And if we are not careful, we may just find out what it means when Jesus says, “Those who find their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake will find it.”
As we enter Black history month, I am reminded of Dr. Howard Thurman, whose likeness is carved in stone near the high altar here in the Cathedral. His book, Jesus and the Disinherited, written in 1949, had a significant impact on me when I first read it, and I think it’s a book every Christian should read. Thurman grew up in the segregated South, surrounded by a Christianity that often stayed comfortable, safe, and unwilling to challenge injustice. Many churches, both Black and white, preached faith but avoided the hard work of transformation. In the 1930s, Thurman traveled to India, where he met Mahatma Gandhi and wrestled with how Jesus’ teachings on love and nonviolence could challenge oppression. Thurman realized that the true gospel wasn’t about spiritual salvation—it was about disrupting systems of injustice and living out Christ’s far-reaching call to love, even when it was dangerous. Thurman and his work deeply influenced Martin Luther King Jr. who is said to have carried a copy of Jesus and the Disinherited with him during his travels. Like Peter, Thurman stepped beyond what was safe and familiar, leaving a legacy that continues to challenge and inspire.
Friends, I believe we are living in a time when Jesus is asking us to push out into deep waters that may feel dangerous and risky in the proclamation of God’s love and in pursuit of God’s justice. The Christian witness to the centrality of Jesus Christ is in danger of being drowned out by an idolatry that does not see God as sovereign but rather sees the nation as sovereign and God in service to the politics of our country. But we proclaim Christ crucified as St. Paul says – a stumbling block to some and foolishness to others.
There are voices who would castigate us for preaching politics, but saying that we should feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger and show mercy to the most vulnerable – that’s not politics – that’s Jesus. To say we should love our enemies and do good to those who hate us – that’s not politics – that’s Jesus. To proclaim that the merciful, the peacemaker, the seeker of justice are blessed is not politics – that’s Jesus. Yes, all these things have political consequences, but let’s be clear, they are not democratic or republican, they are not words that belong to a political party, they are Jesus’ words and those of us who call ourselves Christian are obliged to proclaim them and follow them.
As my good friend and wonderful preacher, the Rev. Greg Jones recently wrote: “I don’t preach politics, I preach religion. I have to. My religion has very clear teaching about what the followers of Jesus Christ will do in this world. We have sworn to God (in our baptisms)that we will proclaim the Good News of God in Christ – we will view Christ as dwelling within all persons: regardless of family, tribe, race, language, nation, or social class – we will not only see Christ in them we will serve Christ in them – we will strive for justice and peace among all people – and we will respect the dignity of every human being. Clearly, the world does not follow Jesus as Lord. The rulers of this world – which the Bible calls the ‘powers and principalities’ – are indeed opposed to God and God’s ways. Jesus made that pretty clear. To say this is not a matter of politics. It’s a matter of religion. It’s what the Gospels are all about.”
Personally, I’m not all that interested in Democrats or Republicans. I’m disappointed with all of it and besides, as I’ve said before, politics and politicians will never save you. But I tell you what I do care about – I care about Jesus. I care about what Jesus says. I care about what Jesus says we should do and be as his hands and feet in the world. I care because when all is said and done, Jesus is everything. He is the way, the truth and the life, and out in the deep water I’m going to hold onto that good news like a drowning man holding onto a life jacket. And yeah, if you listen to what Jesus says, he’s gonna take you out into the deep water and you better be careful cause it’s dangerous out there. But as far as I’m concerned, no one else has got the truth, no one else has got anything lasting for us to hold onto. When all is said and done, I know this—there is nowhere else to go, nothing else worth giving our lives to. As Peter himself would later say when Jesus asked him if he wanted to go away: “Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Amen.