A Homily for the Fourth Sunday after Pentecost

+ “We toiled all night and took nothing.” How often we find ourselves in the situation of Simon Peter who worked diligently for no result. “Another wasted night,” he may well have murmured as he cleaned his nets that morning, just as we may look back on another day, week, month or year or even longer with the assessment that nothing terribly much has been achieved, breathing in yet more of the viral air of quiet despair that such ordinariness propagates and longing for some form of release.

Simon Peter said these words in response to Our Lord’s instruction to set out into the deep waters and cast his nets anew. “Try again,” he was told. And to his credit, despite his doubts and indeed his experience, he let down the nets and caught such a superabundance of fish that he could not manage them without additional help. And this was no ordinary catch, for it made such an impression on Simon Peter and his fellow fisherman, James and John, that they “left everything and followed Him” to become fishers of men.
 
In presenting us with this passage of the Holy Gospel this morning, the Church’s Sacred Liturgy gives us very much indeed upon which to contemplate.
 
Duc in altum: set out into the deep waters! By the grace of God the Holy Spirit these words resound through the centuries from the lake of Gennesaret down to our own day, conveying the Lord’s command to put behind us that quotidian mediocrity that even when it involves much activity achieves little of lasting value, and to try once again, and with renewed vigour, to do His will. Deep waters are deep; they rightly demand respect and sometimes generate fear—they involve risks which perhaps we would rather not take. And yet they contain much; much more indeed than we can imagine—the totality of which the Lord Himself alone knows.  
 
Fear of setting out into the deep is a reality. Howsoever futile our ordinary existence is, its shallow routines provide at least the comfort of familiarity and can give a sense of security. I regard the little world of my own creation as a secure one in which I can hide and take refuge from larger issues and challenges. To be told to leave my little castle behind and to set out into deep, unpredictable waters can be terrifying, with thousands of “What if’s” circling like ravenous seagulls ready to feast on anything over which the sea is victorious.
 
Yes, there is a risk in setting out into the deep. And yet this is what the Lord Himself commands.
 
In the face of this risk, we do well to contemplate Simon Peter’s response to this command “At Your word Lord I will…” We are used to thinking of Simon Peter as he who denied Christ and had a somewhat awkward ‘career’ as an apostle—impetuous and always getting things wrong. But here, at the very beginning, he shows very great faith indeed: “At Your word Lord I will…”  
 
In these words we have all that is necessary: the hearing of the Lord’s word and the conforming of our own wills to doing what He asks of us—no matter what our fears, no matter what we would prefer, no matter what we seemingly know better. These words have generated countless saints, known and unknown, clerical, monastic, religious, married and single people in the life of the Church over twenty centuries! They have rescued ordinary sinful people, like Simon Peter, from despair and placed them in the radiant light of God’s grace—bringing forth abundant fruit. All that has been necessary is their willingness to set out into the deep.
 
Conversely, we must face the reality that an unwillingness so to do deprives the Church and the world of innumerable graces Almighty God wishes to bestow. If I refuse to budge and to leave my comfortable little world, or if I put just my toe into the water and beat a rapid retreat in fear of what the greater depths might involve, I am not only not doing what the Lord asks of me—and for that I must answer to Him—I am also frustrating the designs of His Providence. If I hide my light under a bushel, it cannot shine and give light to others. (cf. Mt 5:14-16)
 
Whether we are still on shore and considering setting out, or whether we are out in the deep, persevering in letting down the nets, let us make the words of the Secret of this Mass our particular prayer today: “Lord, though our wills resist You, press them graciously into Your service.” For when our wills truly conform to His, we sinners can work wonders, with results that amaze us and glorify Almighty God. For the humility necessary to conform our wills to God’s, let us pray earnestly before His altar this morning. + 

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