A Reading from the Gospel of Luke.

Jesus said, “I say to you that listen, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. If anyone strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also; and from anyone who takes away your coat do not withhold even your shirt. Give to everyone who begs from you; and if anyone takes away your goods, do not ask for them again. Do to others as you would have them do to you.

“If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. If you lend to those from whom you hope to receive, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. But love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High; for he is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

“Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap; for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.(Luke 6:27-38)

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This sermon in Luke’s Gospel, which Jesus preached is one of the toughest for Christians to follow.  Love your enemy. Turn the other cheek.    He preaches the Golden Rule. But with a difference.

Hillel, the great Jewish rabbi was asked by someone to teach the whole Jewish law while standing on one leg.    He answered,” What is hateful to thee, do not do to another. That is the whole law, and all else is explanation.”

Philo, the Alexandrian philosopher, said something similar, “What you hate to suffer, do not do to anyone else.”    The Stoics had as one of their rules, “What you do not wish to be done to you, do not do to any other.”

And Confucius, when asked for one word that would serve as a rule of practice for all one’s life, answered,” Is not Reciprocity, one such word? What you do not want done to you, don’t do to others.”

The difference in Jesus’s teaching is that he is positive, rather than negative. Instead of ‘do not’ he says, ‘do’.  Do bless anyone who curses you. Do pray for someone who is cruel to you. Do give to someone who asks of you.     Don’t just look the other way. Do go out of your way to show love.

Here is a true story, told by Terry Dobson, and published in one of the Chicken Soup books that illustrates how that doctrine should be applied.   

Terry tells it like this:  The train clanked and rattled through the suburbs of Tokyo on a drowsy spring afternoon. Our car was comparatively empty – a few housewives with their kids in tow, some old folks going shopping. I gazed absently as the drab houses and dusty hedgerows went by my window.   

At one station, the doors opened and suddenly the afternoon quiet was shattered by a man bellowing violent, incomprehensible curses. The man staggered into our car. He wore dirty laborer’s clothing and was big, drunk and dirty. Screaming, he swung at a woman holding a baby. The blow sent her spinning into the lap of an elderly couple. It was a miracle that the baby was unharmed.

Terrified, the couple jumped up and scrambled toward the other end of the car. The laborer aimed a kick at the retreating back of the old woman but missed as she scuttled to safety. This so enraged the drunk that he grabbed the metal pole in the centre of the car and tried to wrench it out of its stanchion. I could see that his hand was cut and bleeding.   The train lurched ahead, the passengers frozen with fear.

I stood up.

I was young then, some twenty years ago, and in pretty good shape. I’d been putting in a solid eight hours of Aikido training nearly every day for the past three years. I liked to throw and grapple. I thought I was tough. The trouble was, my martial skill was untested in actual combat. As students of Aikido, we were not allowed to fight.

“Aikido,” my teacher had said again and again, “is the art of reconciliation. Whoever has in mind to fight has broken his communication with the universe. If you try to dominate people, you’re already defeated. We study how to resolve conflict, not how to start it.”

I listened to his words. I tried hard. I even went so far as to cross the street to avoid the ‘chimpira’ the pinball punks who lounged around the train station. My forbearance exalted me. I felt both tough and holy. In my heart however, I wanted an absolutely legitimate opportunity whereby I might save the innocent by destroying the guilty.

“This is it,” I said to myself as I got to my feet.” People are in danger. If I don’t do something fast somebody will probably get hurt.”

Seeing me stand up, the drunk recognised a chance to focus his rage.  ”Aha, “ he roared, “A foreigner! You need a lesson in Japanese manners!”

I held on lightly to the commuter strap overhead and gave him a slow look of disgust and dismissal. I planned to take this turkey apart. But he had to make  the first move. I wanted him mad, so I pursed my lips and blew him an insolent kiss.

“All right,” he hollered, “You’re gonna get a lesson!” He gathered himself for a rush at me.

A fraction of a second before he could move, someone shouted, “Hey!” It was earsplitting. But I remember the strangely joyous, lilting quality of it – as though you and a friend had been searching diligently for something, and he had suddenly stumbled upon it.  ”Hey!”

I wheeled to my left; the drunk spun to his right. We both stared down at a little old Japanese man. He must have been well into his seventies, this tiny gentleman, sitting there immaculate in his kimono. He took no notice of me, but beamed delightedly at the laborer as though he had a most welcome secret to share.

“C’mere, “the old man said in an easy vernacular, beckoning to the drunk. ”C’mere and talk with me.” He waved his hands lightly.

The big man followed as if on a string. He planted his feet belligerently in front of the old gentleman and roared above the clacking wheels,” Why the hell should I talk to you?” The drunk now had his back to me. If his elbow so much as moved a millimeter, I’d drop him in his socks.

The old man continued to beam at the laborer. ”Whatcha been drinking?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with interest. “I been drinkin’ sake.” The laborer bellowed back, “And it’s none of your business.”  Flecks of spittle spattered the old man.

“Oh, that’s wonderful, the old man said, “ absolutely wonderful! You see, I love sake too. Every night, me and my wife (she’s 76 you know) we warm up a little bottle of sake and take it out into the garden, and we sit on an old wooden bench.

“We watch the sun go down, and we look to see how our persimmon tree is doing. My great grandfather planted that tree and we worry about whether it will recover from those ice storms we had last winter.

“Our tree has done better than I expected, though, especially when you consider  the poor quality of the soil. It is gratifying to watch when we take our sake and go out to enjoy the evening – even when it rains!” He looked up to the laborer, eyes twinkling.

As he struggled to follow the old man, his face began to soften. His fists slowly became unclenched. ”Yeah,” he said, “I love persimmons, too…” and his voice trailed off.

“Yes,” said the old man smiling, “ and I am sure you have a wonderful wife.”
“No.” replied the laborer. “My wife died.” And very gently, swaying with the movement of the train, the big man began to sob. “I don’t got no wife. I don’t got no home. I don’t got no job. I’m so ashamed of myself.” Tears rolled down his cheeks, as spasms of despair rippled through his body.

As I stood there in my well-scrubbed youthful innocence, my make-the-world-safe-for-democracy righteousness, I felt dirtier than he was.

Then the train arrived at my stop. As the doors opened, I heard the old man cluck sympathetically. ”My, my,” he said, “that is a difficult predicament indeed. Sit down here and tell me about it.”

I turned my head for one last look. The laborer was sprawled on the seat with his head in the old man’s lap. The old man was softly stroking the filthy matted hair.

As the train pulled away, I sat down on a bench in the station. What I had wanted to do with muscle, had been accomplished with kind words. I had just seen Aikido in action, and the very essence of it was love.

Jesus tells us that this is how we must be. Why? Because it makes us just like God. That is the way He acts. God sends his rain on the just and the unjust. He is kind to the one who brings him joy and equally kind to the one who grieves His heart.

God’s love embraces saint and sinner alike. It is the love that we must copy.

If we too can seek even our enemy’s highest good, then we will in truth be children of God.

The heart of Jesus’ sermon is just that.  He stresses that we, his followers, must love the unlovely as well as those who appeal to us.

There were several words for love in Greek. Jesus was not asking for storge, natural affection. Nor was he asking for eros, romantic love. He wasn’t asking for philia, the love of friendship.

He was speaking of agape which means love even of the unlovely; love which is not drawn out of merit in the beloved, but which comes from the fact that the lover chooses to be a loving person.

The lover chooses to be a loving person!

Cherie Carter-Scott says that others are merely mirrors of ourselves. She says, “You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself.”

That bears repeating: “You cannot love or hate something about another person unless it reflects something you love or hate about yourself.”

And that brings us right to the cross, doesn’t it?

The forgiveness that comes from the selfless sacrifice that Jesus made, means that we are forgiven, made clean, pure – sin and guilt washed away – once and for all, and we can now love ourselves!

Accepting that, is all we need, to be able to love others!

And that’s the crux of it all, isn’t it?             Amen. 

The Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ According to Luke.

Jesus came down with the twelve apostles and stood on a level place, with a great crowd of his disciples and a great multitude of people from all Judea, Jerusalem, and the coast of Tyre and Sidon. They had come to hear him and to be healed of their diseases; and those who were troubled with unclean spirits were cured. And all in the crowd were trying to touch him, for power came out from him and healed all of them.
Then he looked up at his disciples and said:
“Blessed are you who are poor,
for yours is the kingdom of God.
“Blessed are you who are hungry now,
for you will be filled.
“Blessed are you who weep now,
for you will laugh.
“Blessed are you when people hate you, and when they exclude you, revile you, and defame you on account of the Son of Man. Rejoice in that day and leap for joy, for surely your reward is great in heaven; for that is what their ancestors did to the prophets.”
“But woe to you who are rich,
for you have received your consolation.
“Woe to you who are full now,
for you will be hungry.
“Woe to you who are laughing now,
for you will mourn and weep.
“Woe to you when all speak well of you, for that is what their ancestors did to the false prophets.” (Luke 6:17-26)

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Are you  impressed by the fame and power that comes to those in show  business or sports.

You can read in the paper about how wealthy these people are. You can watch a television program whose sole purpose is to show you the houses where such people live.

I am not impressed.

But a lot of people are, impressed, otherwise such programs wouldn’t sell, and magazines and newspapers that rely on news about the stars would have nothing to print and would go out of business. 

Obviously, famous  lives are of interest to many millions of people.

But something is even more interesting to those millions, and that is hearing of the downfalls, the failings, of such people.

Reading  about big name star in trouble with the law, is like a great piece of gossip. We like to see that the people we have idolized have clay feet, and we relish it when they fall.  The National Enquirer, and other such papers have existed on such content.

Then, what price success?

Jesus in his sermon on the plain, in Luke’s Gospel today,  is warning his listeners of  the pitfalls that come from chasing after success on the world’s terms.

The key is in verse 24: Woe to you who are rich ( read ‘have success in the world’s eyes’) because you have all the comfort  you are going to get.

If you set your heart and bend your whole energies to obtain the things which the world values, you will get them –  but that is all you will ever get.  But if on the other hand you set your heart and bend all your energies to be utterly loyal to God and true to Christ, you will run into all kinds of trouble; you may by the world’s standards look worse off,  but much of your payment is still to come and it will be joy eternal.

Anybody can be rich. J. Paul Getty’s formula was,  “Rise early, work late……and strike oil.”

Anybody, with the single-minded determination to do so, can become rich. Getty was right, that a little luck goes a long way, but some people having struck oil have still not become rich. They didn’t have the killer instinct.

The killer instinct is the quality one needs to get on in the world. That is especially so in the world of sport.

When Mike Kollin was a line backer for the Dolphins and a graduate of Auburn University, his former college coach, Shug Jordan asked him if he would do some recruiting for him. Mike said, “ Sure coach. What kind of player are you looking for?”

The coach said, “Well Mike, you know there’s that fellow you knock him down and he just stays down?”   Mike said, “ We don’t want him, do we coach?”

“No, that’s right. Then there’s that fellow you knock him down and he gets up. But you knock him down again and he stays down.”

Mike answered, “We don’t want him either, do we coach?”

“Coach said, “ No, but Mike, there’s a fellow you knock him down, he gets up, knock him down, he gets up, knock him down he gets up., knock him down he gets up.”

Mike said, “ That’s the guy we want isn’t it coach?”

The coach answered, “ No, we don’t want him either. I want you to find that guy who is knocking everybody down. That’s the guy we want.”

See, the one with the killer instinct is going to get on in this world.

But he isn’t the fellow that Jesus wants.

See, many times, success in this world is obtained on the backs of others. Knocking others down so you can get ahead.

Serving Jesus, obtaining ‘heavenly success,’ if you like, comes not from knocking people down but from picking them up. 

Because the people who are down are the ones that Jesus is telling us will be blessed.  They aren’t  patsies, they aren’t losers, they will see their time. They will be blessed.

And that is good news, isn’t it?

Because, I  need a God  who understands my pain – my poverty – my despair – my sin –  my fear.

I  need a God who is with me just the way that I  really am –     and that the image of joy and success, and happiness and prosperity  that is portrayed 24 hours a day on television, that image –  that ‘success’ I can’t make  for myself no matter how hard I work  – is a false  image.

 I need to know that God is beside me – where I live – – where I am sick – and in need – where I struggle to do what is  right – and where I fight to retain my faith.

 I need to know that I can touch Jesus  – and be touched by him – right  here and right now;  that I don’t have to have all the answers – or  understand all the mysteries – for him to care  for me.

I like a good joke.  I am pleased when I can laugh and forget  my problems. There is nothing  quite like a fine meal and a bit of fun when the day is done.  It  feels good  to  shut out the troubles of the world   and just relax.

But I feel God’s presence most – I feel God’s power most – not in the good  times – not when I am relaxed, no, I feel God’s power most – his presence  most – when I am helping someone.

And I  feel it most when someone touches me  – when someone helps me.

Jesus was where  we  are  in this world – and he had doubts –   uncertainties – fears – he had no home to call his own – no friends that he could really count on when times got tough – he  wept,   and he got angry too – and God was with him in all those times –  and God strengthened him and gave him the victory.

Happiness – blessedness – is not found in wealth, in three square  meals a   day, in the latest toys or in the opinions others may have of us.

Blessedness is found in surrendering – in letting go –  letting go of that  need for everything that is going in this society.

Blessedness is knowing  that God will vindicate all those who cling to him in the midst of  their needs -cling  to him, – rejecting the god  of material success, or the god  of self-reliance or the god of blind happiness.

We are called to face the eternal choice which begins in childhood and never ends – will you take the easy way which yields immediate pleasure and profit of the moment, or are you willing to look ahead  and sacrifice them for the greater good?

Jesus in this sermon on the plain, is telling us that the people that society looks down upon  –  the losers in society  – are those who are blessed.

Blessed are the single moms who struggle to feed and clothe their children   and to teach them self-respect, and the lonely widowers who weep and who visit those who have suffered the same kind of loss as they.

Blessed are the daughters who nurse their dying mothers rather than  leaving them to strangers,  and the fathers who spend time with their  children instead of spending extra time at the office – ‘getting ahead.’

Blessed are those who are rooted in faith and who share what they have, – materially and spiritually, with others.

Blessed are those who accept with thanks what God has given them, and using it to help others, and not being seduced by the desire for more.

Now we know this. We have heard it time and time again. Haven’t we? But does it really make us want to change?

Can we stop wishing that we were as well off as those people we see on television? Can we be satisfied with what we have?

If you answer, ‘Yes,’ then why do you still buy lottery tickets?

There is a story about a farmer who had lived on the same farm all his life. It was a good farm, but with the passing years, the farmer began to tire of it. he longed for a change, for something – better. 

He saw plenty of people who didn’t work half as hard as he did, and who seemed to be doing very well,  thank you. 

Every day he found a new reason for criticizing some feature of the old place.

Finally he decided to make a new life, and he listed the farm with a real estate broker who promptly prepared a sales advertisement.

The real estate broker rang the farmer, and asked if he would listen to what he had written in the ad, and give his approval.

Well, the broker had, as you might expect, emphasized all the farm’s advantages: ideal location, modern equipment, healthy stock, acres of fertile ground, etc.

When he had finished reading it, the farmer cried out, “Hold everything. I’ve changed my mind. I am not going to sell. I’ve been looking for a place like that all my life.”

Take stock of what you have. Examine the ways in which God has blessed you, and rather than working to be such a great success in this world, work to be a success in the next.

The challenge of the beatitudes is, “ Will you be happy in the world’s way or in Christ’s way?”

Blessed are those who know their need, and who trust in God, and follow in  his way, for they are like trees planted by streams of water.  Their leaves do not wither – in all that they do,  they prosper.

Amen

The Gospel of Our Lord Jesus Christ According to Luke.

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 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.

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. (Luke 5:1-11)

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My dad told me this story once. He was standing in the doorway of a garage, talking to the mechanic, and a woman drove her car slowly to the garage.  One of the front tyres was obviously soft. It wasn’t dead flat, but it was very low.

The mechanic said to my dad out of the corner of his mouth, “ I bet she says the steering has gone.”

The car pulled up. The woman got out, walked over to the mechanic and said, “Would you have a look at my car. I think the steering has gone.”

Now I am not criticizing women drivers. Women can drive as well as men. Some are much better.   What I am getting at is the attitude of some mechanics when someone  takes  a car in for repair and tries to describe what is wrong.

“It makes this cruck,cruck,cruck, sort of noise when I go over a bump in the road. I think it is the rear spring that is broken.”

“Oh yea,” says the mechanic.  His face showing that he doesn’t believe for a moment that you could possibly know what is wrong.

It happens with any sort of trade or profession. 

We bought a new house once which had a washing machine in the basement.

The first time we used the washing machine it leaked. We called the builder, and he sent a man along. Of course, by then the water had all dried up. We explained what happened, but he didn’t believe us. “I can’t find anything wrong with it. Call me if it happens again,” he said, and then he left.

I called him again, but just before he arrived I threw a bucket of water on the floor under the washing machine. “Oh my,” he said, “That does look bad. We had better get that out of here and replaced as soon as possible.”

There is this thing about people who know what they are doing, and how they treat people they think don’t know what they are doing.

That’s probably what Peter felt like when this landlubber, this fellow from the hill country of Nazareth, told him where he should cast his net to catch fish.

Peter was a professional fisherman. He knew the lake. He knew where the fish would congregate. He knew the best time to catch fish.

But this Jesus, a man who had borrowed Peter’s boat from which to preach to the crowd, told Peter where to cast his net.

Like he knew something the professional didn’t?

Peter explained very patiently to this rabbi, “Look, we have worked all night and haven’t found any fish.” 

But there was something about this man Jesus. Maybe it was the way he looked. Maybe the way he said what he said. Maybe some quiet authority about him, which  persuaded Peter to pay heed.  

“If you tell me to, then I will let the nets down,” he said, and he did.

And what a bonanza. They had to call James and John in the other boat to come over and help with the oversized harvest of fish. The boat  was in danger of sinking from the weight  of the catch.

An ordinary kind of miracle, would you say?

But isn’t that how Jesus comes to us all sometime?.

In an ordinary way.

We have had an argument with someone, and we have been there many times before, and we know darn well that it can’t be mended, and we turn away, and a voice tells us to go back and try again.

We have had a great partnership with someone and we lose them, and we know life will never be the same. And we don’t want to try any more. And we don’t want to face life any more, but something tells us to get up and face the day, and try again.

Maybe we have worked in  a hostile environment and have reached a point when we know exactly what will happen today, as happens everyday, and we can’t  face going to work, and we want to quit. And yet, something tells us to give it one more try and even though we know it will be the same, we drag ourselves in.

We know our situation, and we don’t need anybody telling us to give it one more try, but reluctantly, we do.

And we go back to the person we argued with, and try a different tack, and we give a bit, and they give a bit, and a miracle happens. Two people who have almost come to hate each other fall into each other’s arms and are friends again.

Or we who have lost someone so good, and so close, and who can’t be replaced, and we do get up and drag ourselves out, and miracle of miracles, we can make it . 

And we go back to that job where the  boss doesn’t appreciate us, and where we don’t feel valued and  a colleague comes up and lets us know how much some people, the people who really know us, value us.  And we find a boatload of self-worth coming from a totally different direction.

This is about trusting. About surrendering. Surrendering the hurt we have felt, and suffered, to Jesus and trusting him to show us a better way.

This is about finding a new way to succeed in the world, a way that involves changing direction a bit, learning to trust a bit, letting go of the hurt we have been holding onto, a bit.

The story of Miss Haversham in Great Expectations – do you remember?  She was jilted at the altar. And twenty years or so later when Pip went into her house, she was still wearing her wedding dress, the wedding cake was moldering on the table. She had marooned herself in the moment of her greatest hurt, and had never been able to let go of it.

Didn’t want to let go of it!

Peter had to let go of his pride as a fisherman, and trust this rabbi, Jesus, when he was pointed to the place where fish were, but he would also have to let go of the way he worshipped, the way he earned a living, the way he lived – if he were to later, follow Jesus.

His pride might have prevented him from casting that net again. His attachment to his trade, and his pride in it, might have prevented him following Jesus.    A person’s trade says a lot about who you are and what you are, and giving it up is hard to do.  What would be left?

What was left was a new life!

A new beginning!

A new thing!

Jesus called Peter and the others to a new thing,

He changed their lives around dramatically.

And as it happened, changed the world for all time.

The Gospel, the Good News, was entrusted to these men, and  to women, and they founded the church, which is as William Barclay calls it, ‘the repository and the transmitter of the Gospel.’

As one of the Fathers of the Church once said, “ No one can have God for a Father unless they have the Church for their mother.”

And in his letter to the Corinthians, an excerpt of which we would have heard today, Paul reminds us what the Good News is.

“The most important part,” he says, is, “that Christ died for our sins, as the scriptures say. He was buried, and three days later he was raised to life, as the scriptures say, and Christ appeared to Peter, then to the twelve,” and Paul goes on to list the great number of people who witnessed the Risen Lord – who saw Jesus – after his resurrection.

“Finally,”  Paul says, “He appeared to me.”

And Paul, a respected Pharisee, a man knowledgeable of the law, a learned man, a true Jew, someone with a mission to stop the Good News in its tracks, was led by Jesus to take a new direction – one where he would have to give up the trappings and importance of his trade, as it were,  and to follow Jesus.

Jesus had been speaking to Paul’s heart for a long time. And Paul had stubbornly resisted until that one day on his journey to Damascus,

Jesus asked, “Paul, why are you kicking against the goad?” 

When a farmer ploughed his field, using an ox to pull the plough, he had affixed on his rig, a board with a large nail in it. This was his accelerator. When he wanted the  ox to go faster, or, just  to get it started, he would push a lever and this goad, this plank with the nail in it, would come down sharp onto the ox’s flank, and the ox knew to move.  

“Why are you kicking against the goad?”

Why do you refuse to see the true way?

I have called you, and you have ignored me.

Paul knew what he was doing.  He knew where he was going. He had done it for a long time. He didn’t need anyone to tell him what to do, where to go.

Until he met Jesus.

And he turned from working against Christ , to become, perhaps, the greatest worker for Christ the church ever had.

Once he had let go of the old way!

Peter had to let go, too, when Jesus told him that he would become a fisher of people.

Some years ago,  there was a movement in this diocese to awaken people to telling the good news to others.

That was something most people found hard to do. And I don’t know how successful it was.

You see, we can tell people about our arthritis, or other illnesses, and sometimes even about very personal parts of our life.  People tell their modern day confessor – the barman –  about their most intimate relationships.    

People on television, ordinary people, tell the whole world the darndest things about  their love life, their peccadilloes, their most secret desires.

But we can’t tell people  the good news, that since we found Jesus, and joined a church community, our life has become so much better.

We can’t talk about the fact that we have found a Saviour who is always there for us, and will always love us.

We can talk about very personal stuff, but keep our religious beliefs to ourselves. I wonder if it’s because we haven’t given ourselves wholly to Him.  We want to keep one foot  in the world – where we know what we are doing. 

We don’t want to risk letting the net over the other side.

If we did and there were no fish, no ‘miracle’,  we would look pretty stupid, wouldn’t we?

But maybe, the fish will be there. Maybe there is a person waiting   for  someone to throw them a lifeline. And maybe Jesus is calling you to be that  person..

Be like Peter. Say, “ Well Jesus I know people, and they don’t respond to talking about – that stuff – I have already tried it- – – – but, if you tell me to, I will do it.”

And a miracle might just happen.

An ‘ ordinary ‘ miracle, maybe, but a miracle.