Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read Luke 5:1–11

The gospel message is radical, exciting, and life-changing—or at least, it is supposed to be. 

Whether it's my own familiarity of hearing these stories for thirty-two years, my sweet little distractions in the pew beside me, or a less-than-riveting homily, there are many times I've listened to the gospel and thought to myself: Check. I know that one. What's next? 

But the Word of God is not dead or mute—it is living and incarnate. And so, we must ask the Holy Spirit to "open [our] minds to understand the Scriptures" and to hear His voice anew.[1]  

To guard myself against passively receiving Scripture, particularly the gospels, I've been saying this prayer before I read: Come Holy Spirit. Help me to hear Your Word as though it was being spoken to me for the first time. Reveal something new to me. 

It's not to say that every time I read Scripture, I have an epiphany or even that I uncover something that I have never realized before. But this practice has helped me to be attentive to the promptings and nudgings of the Holy Spirit and to be more in tune with the still, small voice of God. 

In Sunday's gospel, we read the story of Jesus calling the first disciples, when Jesus, after preaching to the people, invited Simon Peter to "put out into deep water" (Luke 5:4), even though Simon had been fishing all night and caught nothing. Simon, perhaps tired and a bit skeptical (Luke 5:5), obeys. And his obedience to the Lord is rewarded: Jesus once again turns scarcity into abundance. The catch is so great that Simon's boat, along with his partner's, is overflowing with fish (Luke 5:6–7). 

And then something amazing happens: the fishermen—Simon, James, and John—leave everything behind and follow Jesus (Luke 5:11).

But wait! I've skipped a few verses. 

For so long, particularly in my mid-20s, as I discerned my vocation, I was captivated by Luke 5:11: “They left everything and followed him.” It struck me as remarkable and challenging. But as I read this passage again, I was drawn not just to their leaving but to everything that happens before that moment, particularly Luke 5:8–10. 

After hearing Jesus teach (Luke 5:3–4), after receiving a miraculous catch—his source of livelihood, the means of his income, the way in which he provided for his family, Simon Peter falls at Jesus' feet and calls Him “Lord” (the first person in this gospel to do so) while acknowledging his sinfulness and unworthiness. And how does Jesus respond? Not with rebuke, but with mercy and an invitation: "Do not be afraid; from now on you will be catching men" (Luke 5:10). 

As I read this, I was struck by what those fish, that overflowing net, represented to Simon Peter: opportunity, money, comfort, security, and stability. Yet, when faced with the reality of who Jesus truly is, Simon Peter doesn't cling to any of it but instead turns to the Lord. Why?

Because he had seen Jesus heal his mother-in-law (Luke 4:38–41).
He had heard Jesus preach the kingdom of God (Luke 5:3).
He had obeyed the Master and been rewarded beyond belief (Luke 5:4–6).
He had been offered a calling in the face of a confession (Luke 5:8,10). 

There must have been a realization that it would be this Man, this person of Jesus, who would truly sustain him more than any amount of fish ever could. 

The song "Give Me Jesus" by Fernando Ortega comes to mind, and the refrain echoes throughout the song: "You can have all this world, but give me Jesus." 

Simon Peter didn't just see Jesus and leave everything behind. He had a true encounter with the Divine, and that changed everything. So he let go of his nets and everything they represented, and he followed.

Food for thought or journaling . . . 

What net are you holding onto that Jesus might be inviting you to let go of in order to live a life of greater abundance? 

Jesus, help me to be a faithful disciple—one who hears Your Word and obeys, who acknowledges my sinfulness and unworthiness but trusts Your mercy, who sees all the world offers and still chooses You. 

[1] Catechism of the Catholic Church, 2nd edition (Vatican: Libreria Editrice Vaticana, 2012), CCC 108.