Isaiah 6:1–2a,3–8; 1 Cor. 15:1–11; Luke 5:1–11
I think many
of us have had the experience of being called to do something we weren’t sure
we were ready for. Maybe it was the first time you had to speak in public.
Maybe it was the first time you got the ball and lined up to take a shot at a
basket or a goal line. I’ve had experiences like this: my first sparring match,
my first performance as a classical guitar student, my first professional
conference presentation, and of course my first time preaching from this ambo. Each
time, I was naturally nervous, as you might expect. But I stepped out in trust
and felt the exhilaration of having accomplished something new. There are some
experiences you cannot have unless you set aside all trepidation and step out
in faith.
Of course,
this goes for firsts in the spiritual world as well. We get invitations to step
out in faith all the time, but sometimes we don’t see them for what they are.
We think, “I’d like to go on that Cursillo retreat, but I’ve seen some of those
guys come back really overzealous.” Or “I’d like to try a mission trip, but I
don’t know if I could deal with the hardship they experience.” It’s easy for us
to talk ourselves out of hard choices, and believe me, I am very good at taking
the easy path myself! But I think we usually come to regret not facing up to
the challenges that we know will change us.
Isaiah is in
one such circumstance in our reading today. Isaiah finds himself in the very
presence of God. The traditional understanding in scripture indicated that one
could not see the face of God and live, yet here he was seeing God in His
heavenly court, and he responds as one would expect. He says, “Woe is me, I am
doomed! For I am a man of unclean lips, living among a people of unclean lips;
yet my eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts!” He understands the danger
he faces.
Then one of the seraphim swoops down
with a burning coal, touches it to Isaiah’s lips, and declares him pure. The
word seraphim shares the same root as the Hebrew word for burning
and for a serpent whose bite causes burning infection. But this burning purifies
Isaiah. The trial Isaiah undergoes purifies him so that he can speak God’s
word. Last week’s old testament reading from Malachi talks of this purification
that Israel will undergo: “He will sit refining and purifying (silver),/ and he
will purify the sons of Levi,/ Refining them like gold or like silver/ that
they may offer due sacrifice to the LORD.” That’s what we see here with Isaiah.
He’s being purified and prepared for something big. Once he is purified, he
hears God ‘s question: “Whom shall I send, and who will go for us?” And Isaiah
says, regardless of his fear, “Here I am! Send me!” He embraces the call and
takes the word of God to the Hebrews. That doesn’t mean all goes well. Isaiah
faces persecution, but he does what he is called to do.
A prophet is called not to speak for
themselves or to flatter those in power but to speak the words of the Lord. St.
Paul exemplifies the willing prophet and evangelist, and he claims that he has
worked harder than the other Apostles, by God’s grace. But he notes that he
communicated only what he was given. He writes, “I handed on to you as
of first importance what I also received.” You see, he hands on what he has
been given. He doesn’t deliver a different gospel but only what Sacred
Tradition has given to him. The word he uses here tradidi, which shares
a root with the Latin noun traditas or tradition. Tradition is often given
a bad reputation from some corners of the Christian world. It means “things
handed over”—that is, all that is handed on from the early Church by word of
mouth or in writing. That is what differentiates a false prophet from a true
one and a charlatan from a true disciple. We have been given the true gospel,
protected by the Holy Spirit through the authority of the Church, through
Sacred Tradition and Sacred Scripture. Anyone who preaches something else, as
Paul is saying here, is not teaching the Gospel. And no one can accuse Paul of
being anything less than a fervent and joyful prophet.
In our Gospel reading, Simon Peter
has just hauled in a miraculous catch at the most unlikely time of day. He
recognizes something uncanny about this event and this itinerant preacher, and
he responds in much the same way as Isaiah does. He acknowledges his sinfulness
and says, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man.” Notice that all three of our
subjects recognize their unworthiness. They all know that they are sinners. But
Jesus encourages him, saying, “Do not be afraid. From now on, you will be
fishing for men.” I kind of prefer the translation of this phrase in Mark, “I
will make you fishers of men.” It better preserves the word play that Jesus is
engaging in here. Anyhow, Jesus knows that none of us are worthy of our own
merits. He doesn't call the qualified. He qualifies those he calls.
Simon Peter didn’t always get things
right. He rebukes Jesus for saying that He must be crucified. He abandons Jesus
during the Passion. There’s even an ancient account of him abandoning his flock
in Rome during the persecution of Nero in the year 65. As he’s walking along
the road, he runs into none other than Jesus Himself walking toward Rome. Peter
asks, “Quo vadis, Domine?” which means, “where are you going, Lord?” And Jesus
tells him that He’s going to Rome to be crucified again, and then He
disappears. Peter’s conscience gets the better of him, and he returns to Rome
to face persecution and martyrdom.
When we face
challenges of faith, we oftentimes start off in hesitation and avoidance as well.
One of the reasons many of us don’t step out and share our faith is because we
don’t feel qualified. We are just like Peter and Isaiah. We doubt our
worthiness. We say, “Well, I’m no saint. No one wants to hear from a sinful
schlep like me.” Well, join the club. I’m a sinful schlep, too. John says to us
in his first letter, “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the
truth is not in us. If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just, and will
forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” And you see that
very scenario played out in our readings today. We aren’t worthy, but Jesus
will make us worthy if we let him. He will supply the nerve we need, the steel
in our spine, to accomplish the tasks he gives us. He will give us the grace we
need to be cleansed, and He has given us sacraments to make that
happen—baptism, confirmation, reconciliation, and the Eucharist.
We need to
understand that the very first place we need to share our faith is with our
family. It’s our calling to help our spouses get to heaven. It’s our calling to
educate our children in the faith. This is what the Church refers to as the
domestic Church. Our children learn the faith by seeing how we live it at home.
We need to evangelize the world, but the world starts in our kitchen, in our
family room, at our dinner table. If you need to exercise your faith to give
you the courage to share it, start with your children, start with your spouse,
start with your siblings. True love shows itself in our striving for the
ultimate good of those we love, and we know Our God seeks our ultimate good
because nothing outweighs the love of Our God.
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