We are early in the story of Jesus, yet already he is a major celebrity. He teaches with authority, we are told. What does that mean? Someone who is self-assured when he speaks, or maybe someone who does what I tend to do when I’m speaking English to Dominicans, talking louder than normal as if that would help them understand?

No. Think of a Jewish rabbi here; someone who has studied scripture and the tradition deeply and then talks of both with such insight that the connections caused in the listeners’ minds raise goose bumps on their arms. It is that kind of authority that is attracting the crowds. Jesus is the marquee speaker who tells the crowd things they always know but have yet to learn.

Of course, the miracles have helped fuel the enthusiasm. Many in the crowd don’t just want to see the miracles for themselves, they want to experience them. They have their wounds. So do their loved ones. So they have come to reach out, possibly touch his hand or at least his garment, and experience the power that will expel the demon, or fill the void, or stop the hurt.

And the crowd is pressing in on Jesus. He cannot keep backing up because he is standing on the shoreline. The crowd presses in on him, and he can’t be heard above their pleas, can’t be seen above their heads. There is nowhere to go. Nowhere, that is, except into the boat in which three men sit; three men he probably already knows; Simon, whose mother-in-law he already healed, and the brothers James and John.

And so he steps into the boat because he needs it. He needs it to come out from the masses in order to serve the masses. He steps into the church, because he needs it to serve the people.

Yes, I said, "the church." Palestinian theologians who are storytellers, such as the author of Luke’s Gospel, never tell stories simply to report what happened. They tell stories to address the communities for whom they are writing. The crowd that is Luke’s community is pressing in on the author of Luke, wanting to know more about what Jesus is trying to say to them and wanting to know more about what Jesus is trying to do to them. Luke’s community is doesn’t believe Jesus is dead and gone, an inspirational figure whose memory, like that of Martin Luther King Jr, ought to be honored by a special day. Their Jesus is resurrected. He is alive and won’t leave them alone. They can’t see or touch him now, but they know they are supposed to understand something, and to do something. They also bear their own pains needing healing; pains of tissues, of issues, of faith.

That’s pretty much a description of our church too isn’t it. We probably have some members who belong to Second Presbyterian Church out of some desire to be affiliated with a good charitable organization, or to be in a community where business and friendship connections can be made. That’s fine, that’s a start. But there are a lot of you who are a part of this church because the same Jesus is working on you. Jesus wants you to understand something. There is an agony you want Jesus to touch, a space you want Jesus to fill. There is some job Jesus wants you to do.

And Jesus steps into Simon, James and John’s boat. He steps into the church to which the author of Luke’s Gospel is writing. He steps into our church. And why? He needs the boat to be heard. To serve.

Of course, the story does not end there. When Jesus has finished teaching the crowd, he asks the three men if they have caught anything. "No, we have not caught a thing."

Jesus speaks to Simon, because he seems to be the leader of this threesome. "Try again. Throw down your nets."

And you know what happens. When they follow Jesus’ lead, the boat almost collapses because of the huge catch. Remember, Luke is talking to his church, and, though he doesn’t know it, he is talking to Second Presbyterian Church. "Do you get it, Church? When you fish on your own, you catch nothing. When you follow Jesus’ lead, you catch plenty."

Of course, Jesus isn’t really talking about fishing, is he? These three have caught fish before without Jesus in the boat, thank you very much. And we have skills, don’t we. We have experience. We know things. We have renovated houses, managed household and business budgets, played with our children if we have them and someone else’s if we don’t. We have settled scores with those who have crossed us, studied for tests, and done plenty without being directly aware anyway of it being anything Jesus would have us do. But Jesus is talking about the work that needs to be done for the crowd, for the masses in the world who need to hear some good news and receive the touch they seek from God.

Simon, James and John are a part of that crowd. But Jesus is calling them out. They have been blessed, as symbolized by the haul of fish. Jesus wants them to leave the nets behind for now, to come with him and become fishers of people. For frankly, Jesus needs their hands and their legs just like he needed their boat because there is so much work to do. He needs their mouths because there are so many people who need to hear. The crowd is so big and the needs are so great.

In the 9:00 o’clock service, we are commissioning a mission team to travel to the Dominican Republic. We are calling out a few from the many, and sending them to reach the many in another country. The mission team is going because there are people who need surgery. There are hundreds of people who need to be seen at the clinic and out in the barrios. Some of them are not that sick, they just want to hear a reassuring word from a doctor, to be touched and spoken to, to be given these sacramental like vitamins and medicines. They want to be touched, and most know it is the touch of the church. They understand that to be the touch of Christ.

The construction team will travel to a school where a couple of hundred children go to be taught, and then return to the homes in the poor barrio that contain the families that will depend on these children, once grown, to help them survive. We will send a few to begin building a kitchen that, over the years, possibly will serve thousands. This next summer, a few more will be sent from among us to continue to build that kitchen and to teach stories about Jesus to those children.

On these trips, the few that go will be the hands, legs and mouths that Jesus needs to deal with the crowd pressing in. And the Dominicans will know it is the church reaching out to them. For them, it will be Christ reaching them.

In the 11:00 o’clock service, we are installing and ordaining new elders. They are part of the crowd. They are a few of the over 1300 members at Second Presbyterian Church, and a few of the over 100,000 people who live in this valley. But the few are called out to work for Christ in reaching out to the many. Jesus wants them to do his work. He wants them to equip others to do his work. They know how to renovate houses; well, this house needs renovating. Many elders have raised their own children; well, this church has its children to raise. This church has its own budget to manage, its own chores to be accomplished, its own business to be conducted. And so, among our elders, we have parents, and accountants, and managers, and workers, and scholars using the skills they have developed in their everyday lives in the service of the work of the church.

The key, of course, is to remember we don’t do this work on our own. If we won’t listen, because we already know how to fish; if we won’t try, because we already know it won’t work; we’ll miss the big haul. I can promise the elders or the church nothing in terms of material or numerical success. What I can do is assure them and the whole church is that a broken spirit leading to humility before God (which is its own kind of strength), and an open heart and mind can make miraculous things happen. In prayer, study and mutual discernment, listen for the lead, and then let’s throw the nets when and where we are directed. We’ll then see what happens.