Ein Fischer steht auf einem kleinen Boot und wirft ein Netz aus.

Luke 5:1-11

· by predigten · in 03) Lukas / Luke, 4. So. vor der Passionszeit, Beitragende, Bibel, Current (int.), English, Kapitel 05 / Chapter 05, Kasus, Neues Testament, Predigten / Sermons, Ryan Mills

The Fifth Sunday after Epiphany | February 9, 2025 | Luke 5:1-11 | Ryan Mills |

1 Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of God, 2 he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. 3 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. 4 When he had finished speaking, he said to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.” 5 Simon answered, “Master, we have worked all night long but have caught nothing. Yet if you say so, I will let down the nets.” 6 When they had done this, they caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break. 7 So they signaled their partners in the other boat to come and help them. And they came and filled both boats, so that they began to sink. 8 But when Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!” 9 For he and all who were with him were amazed at the catch of fish that they had taken; 10 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.” 11 When they had brought their boats to shore, they left everything and followed him. (Luke 5:1-11, NRSV).

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son +, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This morning we’ve heard Christ call to the disciples, and to us, “Don’t be afraid, from now on you will be catching people.” I don’t know if you’ve heard the one about the Lutheran who goes out ice-fishing one winter, it’s certainly been good weather for that here! He finds a spot to drill a hole in the ice, and puts his bait and tackle into the hole, when he hears a voice from above, “There are no fish in this lake!” So he moves a few yards over, drills another hole, drops his line in and hears the same thing, again from above, “There are no fish in this lake.” So he looks up towards the voice and asks, “Lord, is that you? “No,” says the voice, “This is the skating rink manager.”

Today, Peter, James and John get this same message—these expert fishermen, who knew every corner, every crevice of the Sea of Galilee, every hot spot to catch something, after fishing all night long, they have caught nothing, their nets are bare, their stomachs growling, their families left unfed, their wallets empty, their hours and sweat wasted for nothing. For them, empty-handed, there are no fish in the lake.

Sometimes we have experiences like this: no matter how hard we try, no matter how much we toil, no matter our expertise, or high hopes, sometimes in life we just come up empty, sometimes it seems we have nothing to show for ourselves. Maybe it’s a relationship that unravels or ends, maybe it’s a job lost, maybe it’s an illness or an addiction that we find ourselves powerless over. Maybe it’s in our life as Christians, as a church, that for all our talk, for all our good intentions, we just sometimes seem to just come up empty.

And so it seems crazy when Jesus says to Simon Peter today, when he says to you and me who have been working harder and harder for less and less, “You caught nothing? Well now put out into the deep water—and let down your nets.” And this seems like the worst advice ever—at the worst time of day, go into even deeper water, where we’re out of our depth, where it’s more dangerous, where we’re totally out of control, that’s crazy! On their own the disciples had caught nothing, but now with Jesus, in his company, in his presence, with him they get up and try again—“Yet if you say so, Master, but at your Word, I will let down the nets,” Peter says. See, faith doesn’t look at what we think will work, faith doesn’t look to our own track record or power, faith doesn’t give up when circumstances would tempt us to—no, faith takes God at his Word, faith trusts in him and in his creative Word more than it trusts in ourselves, “Yet if you say so, Master, But at your Word, I will.”

And the nets all of a sudden were jammed with fish, overflowing, bursting, pulling the boat under from the weight of this giant catch. Those of you who fish know that amazing moment when you go from getting nothing for hours, to the rod almost breaking in half because of the size of the one that hits. The disciples’ nets are breaking, because the catch is too large, more than they asked for or imagined. See, God is always at work to give us far more than we could ever ask for or imagine. We ask for a crumb, and he sets a feast; we ask for a little more wine, and he provides hundreds of gallons; we ask for a fish, and God fills two boat-fulls; our God is a God of abundance, and he will take your little and turn it into much.

But it’s in this moment, when you’d think they’d be cheering, in the biggest success and biggest catch of their lives, that Peter is overcome with terror. He falls down before Jesus, in terror, in fear, saying, “Go away from me Lord, I am a sinful man.” Sometimes when the good news comes to us, when we feel close to God, it’s too much, it overpowers us, it overwhelms us. It’s easy to admit we screw up, that we’re sinners, we like the confession part. But it’s hard when God’s amazing grace still comes to us, it smarts when we receive his forgiving love despite ourselves, it makes us all want to run away! “Depart from me,” Peter says, “depart from me,” we say, but Jesus sticks by us stronger than ever. He refuses to depart, because he loves sinners, Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners, the unworthy ones, and so he loves the real you and the real me, even though we do not deserve it, he refuses to depart.

And in this miracle of the amazing catch of fish, we see how God will always be at work through his church—his scared, unworthy, empty-handed church. In this miracle of the nets bursting we see a promise that the nets of God’s grace will be filled to overflowing, because they will draw in the whole world, people of every tribe and race and language under heaven will be caught up into God’s love through the net of holy baptism, that divine net that draws us out of the murky waters of sin and death into the glorious freedom of a new and reborn life with our Lord. Jesus says that when he is lifted up he will draw all people to himself, he’ll do it, and so they will come, not because we are so expert catchers, but because we obey his Word and put down the nets into the deep waters of New Haven and beyond and into the lives of those we care about. Statistics say the main way people become active in any church is that a friend invites them—who have you invited lately, what are we waiting for? For Christ promises he will draw everyone, he will draw the whole world, the whole creation, into his embrace, into his boat, to be with him and to belong to him forever.

As we look into 2025, there are plenty of challenges that still beset us. The water is deep and dangerous, the storm clouds still threatening. But today, in our little, magnificent ship called Trinity, our church family hears the same Word, the same promise once spoken by the Lord to those fisherman, spoken again today to you and me: “Don’t be afraid,” Jesus says, “do not fear the failure you’ve had on your own, do not fear the grace that I give even though you don’t deserve it, do not fear the past, do not fear for your future, don’t be afraid.” For we’ve been caught in the net of his love, and are now carried in the hands of him who died for your sins, was buried, and was raised on the third day so that we might have life eternal, so that nothing can separate us from his love.

The Bible doesn’t say it, but I bet those first disciples set up a little campfire on the beach, took one or two of that massive catch, and asked Jesus to sit down with them for a feast. Fishing makes you hungry, you can’t do it on an empty stomach, and for your work in letting down the nets of God’s love, you too need some refreshment, you need a feast with your Lord. No fresh fish today, sadly. But a morsel of bread and a sip of wine, the body and blood of him who gave himself in love for you. And though you and I are indeed sinful, don’t stay away, for he comes close now to fill you with himself, to refresh and strengthen you, so we can do his mission together. For, unlike at the ice rink, there are many fish in this lake, there’s a whole chaotic world out there desperate to hear Good News, and we have a net large enough to hold everyone. So out we go, into the deep water, to let down the nets according to his Word. So don’t be afraid, Trinity: “From now on you will be catching people.”

And the Peace of God which passes understanding guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus. Amen.


The Rev. Dr. Ryan Mills

New Haven, Connecticut