Luke 5:1-11

Whenever I read this Gospel passage, I worry about what people might think they hear. What they might think they hear is something called “prosperity theology”. This theology is built on the premise that godliness causes prosperity. So, if we are godly people, God will bless and reward us with health and wealth. Sounds pretty appealing, doesn’t it? If I’m a godly person, I’ll enjoy real prosperity, which is defined as good health, a happy family, children with no problems (even when they’re teenagers), and all the material wealth and toys that I desire. If you follow some of the most watched televangelists, this is precisely message they are preaching. And they could not be more wrong!
           
In today’s Gospel the apostles step out in faith when they are called by Jesus to follow him. These were simple fishermen, but Jesus had a bigger plan for them. They were going to be the “A” team, those who would to carry the Good News to the world after Jesus was gone. Jesus knew his mission, but they didn’t. To get their attention, Jesus reached out to them on their own terms. He took them into the deep waters where they had been fishing all night, had them lower their nets, and then he miraculously provided them with a catch that was beyond their wildest imaginations. The size of their catch, some say, would be like hitting the lottery by today’s standards.
           
Now, if Jesus was selling “prosperity theology”, it seems to me that he would have said, “Okay boys, take these fish to the market and sell them for a good price. Then go home and enjoy some time with your family and friends. And if you’re really good, if you’re really godly, I’ll be back again with another huge catch for you. Then you can build nice houses, buy bigger boats, and I may even throw in a donkey and cart for you.” Did Jesus say that? No, he said, “Do not be afraid; from now on you’ll be catching men.” When Simon, James and John heard this, they must have been confused, at least at some level. But what they saw Jesus do convinced them that they had to follow him. They had no choice.
           
Why do you suppose Jesus told them to put out into deep water? As I always caution you, I am not a scripture scholar, but I have an idea about this. As fishermen, the soon-to-be-called apostles knew that the deep water was where the largest catches would be made. But, as anyone who has ever sailed knows, the deeper the water is, the greater the dangers are. So I see Jesus sending a message to the apostles: the mission I am going to send you on has many risks, but your heavenly reward will be great. Discipleship is not a “no risk” venture in earthly terms.
           
One person, who knew that discipleship is a risky business, was 20th century Protestant theologian Dietrich Bonhoeffer. He was educated in Germany, but also studied and taught at the Union Theological Seminary in New York City in the early 1930’s. During that time he also worked in the Abyssian Baptist Church in Harlem, and became very aware of racial discrimination in the US. Interestingly he wrote a letter to his brother stating that racism was then the biggest problem facing the United States. He returned to Germany before the outbreak of the war, and eventually worked in the underground resistance to Hitler.

Bonhoeffer wrote a book called “The Cost of Discipleship”, and I think he had a pretty good handle on what the risks and challenges of discipleship are. He wrote, “When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die. Discipleship is not hero worship, but intimacy with Christ. It is…a joyful, trusting, steady progression. Worldly cares are not part of our discipleship.” This doesn’t sound like prosperity theology, does it?
The cost of genuine discipleship is our very selves. Discipleship ultimately cost Bonhoeffer his life. He was part of the conspiracy that tried to assassinate Hitler, and he was hanged at Hitler’s direct order just weeks before the war ended. Through years of harassment, imprisonment and torture, Bonhoeffer kept faith with his definition and vision of discipleship. While many other Christian ministers gave into the Nazis demand that they swear an oath of allegiance to Hitler, Bonhoeffer only knew of one allegiance, his allegiance to Christ.

So, should we all hope for martyrdom? I suppose not, but we should also not lose sight of the idea that this could be part of God’s plan for us. Should we all leave everything, leave our boats on the shore like the disciples did, to follow Jesus? I’m not sure of that either, but I know we should not be so attached to the things of this world that we prefer them to the path of discipleship. The message I take from today’s Gospel is that Jesus calls us to follow him wherever that takes us, even if it is into the dangerous, deep waters. For most of us, following Jesus will take us into seemingly ordinary lives. But in our extraordinary, ordinariness we are called to be Christ’s witnesses. We witness daily to our children, our families, our co-workers and to perfect strangers we meet. We need to live lives that are so filled with the love of God, so filled with his generosity and compassion, that people who don’t know us wonder what makes us so joyful. And this is done through actions, not through mere words.

We live in difficult times to be sure. Many of our friends and neighbors have lost their jobs. Some have lost their homes or are struggling through stressful family situations. Many are suffering with cancer and other serious illnesses. According to prosperity theology, our brothers and sisters could overcome these problems if they were more godly people. I don’t propose to understand why difficulties are visited upon some and not others, but I don’t believe for a minute that it has a whole lot to do with godliness. Bad things do happen to good people and vise versa. Perhaps it’s part of the randomness of God’s plans. I really don’t know.

But this much I am pretty sure about: believing in and living the gospel, calls us individually to do whatever we can to alleviate the suffering and hardships of others. It calls on us to speak out for the voiceless, for the unborn, the infirm, the homeless and the hungry. We need to become prophets of the current age, to be what Father Declan called the “truth tellers”, in last Sunday’s homily. This may not make us popular, but it will confirm that we are Christ’s disciples. When we witness wrongs in our world, and we know that someone should call out and fight those wrongs, it is then that we have to listen for the voice of God asking, “Whom shall I send?” And when we hear his voice we need to answer as Isaiah did in today’s first reading. “Here I am, send me!”