Do Not Be Afraid
Luke 5:1-11
Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore. Then he sat down and taught the crowds from the boat. When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, ‘Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.’ Simon answered, ‘Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.’ When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. So they signalled to their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!’ For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; and so also were James and John, sons of Zebedee, who were partners with Simon. Then Jesus said to Simon, ‘Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching people.’ When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him.
Last week I talked about how markedly different Luke’s version of Jesus’ rejection at Nazareth was from Mark’s and Matthew’s versions, and how it’s pretty rare for the stories to diverge that much. Well, today we’re dealing with another example of Luke’s version of the same story being very different from Mark’s and Matthew’s.
Today, it’s the classic story of Jesus gaining his first disciples, announcing that these lowly fishermen would now be fishers of people if they followed him. This happens in Matthew and Mark, yes, but their versions are so simple and nearly identical. In those stories, Jesus tells them to follow him, and they do. It reads almost like a spell is cast upon them, like they’re hypnotized into following him. But Luke has so much more to say and to show. The first disciples come much later in Luke, than in Matthew and Mark. Jesus has apparently already been an itinerant preacher for a while now, as he’s been amassing crowds so big that they force him into a fishing boat when he runs out of room on the shoreline, where he proceeds to teach and preach from the water. He then performs a miracle, blessing Simon Peter with more fish than he can even handle, after a fruitless day of fishing. There’s so much more drama to this story— Simon is so overcome by witnessing this miracle, he begs Jesus to leave him, believing himself unworthy of this bounty, believing he is too sinful of a man to have been witness to such a spectacular event. Jesus’ response is “Do not be afraid.”
Covid first hit when I was living in Philly, and the fear and anxiety in the air was palpable. And I remember my pastor in Philly, Michael, started sending daily emails with poems or thoughts or passages from scripture or from literature, and the subject line of those daily emails was “Fear not.” Nearly every day a “Fear not” would show up in our inboxes. While I did appreciate those emails then, I didn’t think too deeply about them in the moment; but in thinking about those emails now, and in thinking about the fear and anxiety that’s palpable in the air once again, I wondered about all the times in the Bible we’re told not to fear, to not be afraid.
I did some googling, and there’s a very nice lie that’s been going around the internet for a while now that there are 365 verses that tell us to not be afraid in the Bible—one for every day of the year. This is a lovely thought, but it’s not accurate. But there over one hundred of verses imploring either us or a biblical figure to not be afraid. We know many of them— the angel telling Mary to fear not when she’s told of her miraculous conception; the angel telling the women at the rolled-away stone to fear not when they see that Jesus’ body is no longer there; in Matthew, Jesus tells his disciples not to fear coming persecutions, not to fear those who “kill the body” since they “cannot kill the soul.” In John, Jesus tells his disciples to not let their hearts fear because he is bestowing upon them the gift of the Holy Spirit. In the book of Isaiah, the people are told not to fear over and over and over again during times of exile and persecution, because God is with them. Isaiah 41: “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
“Do not be afraid” shows up at these times of high drama, at times when it would seem there would, indeed, be much to fear. And you know, in everyday life, it can be infuriating to be told “Don’t be scared,” or “Don’t worry, it’s not a big deal,” when things do feel scary, and when things do feel like a big deal. But I don’t think this is what God or Isaiah or Jesus means when they say “Don’t be afraid.” I don’t think they’re, to use some kind of therapy-speak buzzwords, “invalidating our feelings” by saying this. What they are saying, I believe is, “Don’t let your fear consume you. Don’t let your fear stop you from doing what is right.”
Because Luke presents these first disciples as following Jesus much later than in Matthew and Mark, there was a much greater risk in following him. There was certainly already suspicion among those in power surrounding this strange, charismatic preacher who’s attracting crowds so big they push Jesus off the land and into water. But in addition to the negative attention Jesus was generating, there was also this awe and fear surrounding Jesus from those he was speaking to and speaking for—the poor, the weak, the powerless. Simon Peter, believing himself to be unworthy of being in Jesus’ presence is full of fear and self-loathing. But Jesus simply tells him “Do not be afraid.” Don’t let your fear stop you from following me if that’s what you want. Don’t let your fear stop you from doing the right thing. Don’t let your fear of your own past consume you and fill you with shame. Don’t let your fear stop you from moving forward and doing great things. Don’t let your fear paralyze you into inaction.
That’s exactly what’s happening to a lot of people right now—people are scared and anxious, they can’t keep up with the news, they can’t keep up with the hot takes and the opinions, who’s to blame for what—it’s just too much. But remember… that’s the point. Flood the zone. Overwhelm. Paralyze.
Simon and his fishing partners were certainly feeling a great deal of pressure as subjects of oppressive Roman rule. There were no options to move up in society; being a fisherman was a lowly and difficult job, and as we see here, there were days when the fishing was just not good, and you might go home with nothing to sell and nothing to eat. They were likely living simple, but difficult lives, with the constant threat of abject poverty or punishment from harsh Roman rule. Romans ruled with an iron fist—they were quite literally working on taking over the world, and you can’t take over the world by force without a perpetual feeling of fear in the air to keep your subjects in line—poor, powerless, and in line.
So poor Simon Peter, so used to this cruel world he was living in, so beat down, that when he’s gifted with this bounty of fish, and when he hears the words of Jesus’ teaching from the boat (whatever they were, it’s not said what the subject is), he is so overwhelmed, and believes he’s unworthy of all of it—the fish, the teaching, the very presence of Jesus. But Jesus tells him—Do not be afraid. And so Peter and his friends weren’t. Or you know— they probably were still. But they didn’t let that stop them from leaving everything behind to follow Jesus.
Now, a quick refresher from last week— remember when Jesus was rejected as Nazareth— the people from his hometown are so offended by the fact that Jesus would deign to perform miracles and heal foreigners, pagans, and non-Jews before themselves, they form a mob and prepare to stone Jesus to death, or “hurl him off a cliff,” as it’s written in chapter 4— but more than just being angry they weren’t going to experience the awe and wonder of Jesus’ power, what really pushes them over the edge is when Jesus quotes their own scriptures to them—scriptures about God going out of God’s way to help non-Jews, to help foreigners and pagans—and rather than hearing the true and sacred words of Jesus, and taking them in and being introspective, they became full of rage because of their own shame and hypocrisy and they took that rage and shame—and that fear—out on Jesus. They let their unbelief and their fear of the other, of outsiders, get the best of them. And Jesus was amazed and deeply saddened by their unbelief—but he walked through the mob unscathed.
But Peter—though a self-admitted sinner, though a lowly fisherman—begs Jesus to leave him after he receives this bounty of fish for himself and his community because he doesn’t think he deserves it. But it is in this very humility, and this deep reverence for something so miraculous that his belief and his goodness is made clear. And Jesus tells him, “Do not be afraid.”
The reason, thanks to Caroline’s nudging and idea, that I’m organizing this sort of, at the moment, amorphous community support/call to action potluck next week is because I keep hearing and reading the same question— What can we do? And I’m not seeing a lot of answers to that question, besides the go-tos like—call your representatives, vote, etc, which, while still important, aren’t especially satisfying right now.
I believe, as I’ve believed since the days when we just started re-gathering after the height of the pandemic, that people are craving community. They are craving togetherness. They are craving connection. But they don’t know where or how to get it. In a place like Vermont, statistically the least religious state in the country, faith communities are often sadly overlooked. So I think we have to fear not. And I think we have to really listen to what people want right now, but people need right now. And what they need, it seems, is a way to gather, to be together and to find new ways to act out our faith in the world. For us, as Christians, it’s our faith in Jesus and his call to love and help our fellow human, for the least of those especially; for others it may be simply their faith in humanity and the faith and the hope that a better world is possible, which, of course, is a part of our faith as well.
Jesus was being hounded by huge crowds pushing him off shorelines—he was surrounded by people, and yet he needed disciples. He needed friends. He needed to connect with people he knew would support him, and whom he would support in return. He needed people who believed in something, and people who had the humility and the sense of wonder to overcome their fear of not being good enough; their fear of the oppressive rule they were living under, to follow him and help to make an earth as it is in heaven.
It's okay to be scared right now. It’s okay to be uncertain and anxious right now of what the future holds for this country and the people in it. But we can’t let that fear drive us to blame or violent rage like it does for the people of Nazareth we read about last week; and we can’t let that fear keep us from taking risks and doing what’s right, doing what Jesus calls us to do. In our passage for today, Jesus is calling us to connect with people. Jesus is calling us to come together to work for a better world.
Admittedly, it feels a little funny pleading for connection when we’re on Zoom-only church today, but this is by necessity, not choice, that we’re apart—remote technologies aren’t all bad—but Jesus is, indeed, calling us to connect. He is calling us to not be afraid—to not be afraid that we’re not good enough; to not be afraid that nothing we do will be enough in a world this broken. So let’s go from today knowing that we are worthy, yet maintaining our humility; and let’s go from today fearing not. Amen.
