We begin the cycle of St Luke after the feast of the Holy Cross in the same way we begin the cycle of St Matthew after Pentecost: with an account of the calling of the first disciples. In some religious orders, the feast of the Cross is the dividing line for their summer and winter schedules. In some Churches the feast of the Cross marks a new liturgical time: the Sundays are counted no longer as Sundays after Pentecost but as Sundays after the Cross. So it is appropriate to have a Gospel about Jesus calling his disciples: it is a new time, a new beginning, an invitation for us to renew and deepen our own response to God’s call.
Each person’s calling, like each one’s relationship to God, is unique, even though it may fit into some general category, like marriage, priesthood, or monastic life. So I can’t hope to discuss the details of every particular calling. But there are some basic elements of every calling from the Lord, for all callings come from the same source, God, and all callings are ultimately an invitation to Heaven, to eternal life with Him who calls us.
In the Gospel today (Lk 5:1-11), we see that any vocation begins with hearing the word of God and responding to it. Jesus first asked Peter to use his boat as a pulpit. Peter readily agreed. But then Jesus asked Peter something that Peter didn’t agree with—and here we might see ourselves offering some resistance to what God is asking of us. Peter’s response was two-fold: his objection to what Jesus asked, followed by his acceptance of it. We may also find ourselves struggling with the demands of God’s word to us, but we must come
to the point of acceptance of it—not necessarily because we suddenly understand what He means, or because we find a way to agree with it, but simply because we recognize the divine source and hence authority of the call. Peter’s objection to going out to fish again was: “We have toiled all night and caught nothing!” But he recognized the authority of God in the words of Jesus and so he immediately added: “But at your word I will let down the nets.” We must do the same. We may have our personal objections to what our vocation requires of us, but we have to recognize the authority of God in his word, and in those who have been entrusted with his authority, and respond: “OK, at your word I will do it.”
Because of Peter’s obedience, Jesus worked a miracle for him. Now our obedience may not immediately result in manifest miracles—and this is where God’s calling for the majority of people differs from that of the calling of Peter, James, and John—but Jesus is not required to work miracles in all cases, only to give the necessary grace to say yes to whatever He asks, and this He unfailingly gives. Even without a miracle, we will recognize the presence of Jesus in the context of his call to us.
The next step of our response must be like Peter’s: repentance, that is, the recognition of our sinfulness in the presence of the Lord’s holiness. When Peter realized that a miracle was worked before his eyes, he immediately saw himself in the pure light of Christ and felt his utter unworthiness, so he exclaimed: “Depart from me, O Lord, for I am a sinful man.” Religious anthropologists tell us that this is one of the first and basic reactions of man to the presence of the Holy: the awareness of one’s own lack of holiness, and hence the desire, if not to flee from the holy presence, at least to completely humble oneself in repentance and confessions of unworthiness.
We shouldn’t assume that we are somehow worthy of God’s call to serve Him or even simply of salvation. When the Lord’s presence is manifested in our lives, we shouldn’t have the attitude of: “what took you so long?” Rather, we should say: “O God, be merciful to me a sinner.” When St Symeon the New Theologian had a profound experience of the presence of God, all he could say, over and over, was “Lord, have mercy!”
But what does it mean, in practice, to respond to God’s call? Again, I can’t speak here of the multitude of different ministries, services, and ways of life that are available to Christians. But last Sunday’s readings give us the bottom line of what it means to respond to the calling of God. We have to deny ourselves, take up our crosses and follow Jesus. This is a basic element of every Christian vocation without exception.
After the miraculous catch of fish, Jesus did not sit down with Peter and go over the package deal He had prepared for him, with its various financial incentives, benefits, stock options, and retirement plan. No, He just invited Peter and his friends to follow Him, and they did. No questions asked. Just follow. They would be briefed along the way, and they would learn just what it meant to deny themselves and take up their crosses. They would learn what it meant to lose their lives in order to save them. They would learn the theology of the Cross—not in a classroom but in their own bodies and souls, in the struggles of life as Jesus’ disciples. They would experience the agony and the ecstasy, the sorrow and the joy, the death and the resurrection that are part and parcel of the life of one who says “yes” to Jesus.
But what is all this for? Why leave everything and follow Him? Why take up the cross? Why deny ourselves? The basic reason is simply for love of Jesus, but there is another reason, an ultimate one, which is at the same time the fulfillment of our love for Jesus, and that is: Heaven. We respond to God’s calling, we take up the cross and follow Jesus because we desire eternal life; his call is to everlasting happiness. We are following Him to Paradise. We have to be clear on this, so that short-term projects and goals—or worse, our own selfish expectations of life—don’t obscure the reason we are following Him in the first place: we are on our way to Heaven.
You might say that this is obvious; we all want to go to Heaven. Yes, but is that general wish manifested in practical ways in our daily lives? And is Heaven so important to us that we are willing to forsake everything else to attain it? How do we know that we are really living for Heaven and not for this passing world?
Here are a few practical points to ponder. (We may be unpleasantly surprised to discover that in fact Heaven is just a peripheral point in our basically earth-centered, self-centered lives.) If you get disappointed because things don’t go your way, you are living for earth and not for Heaven. If you get upset, indignant, and defensive when someone points out a fault of yours—rather than being grateful for the opportunity to repent of it so you don’t have to take it with you to the judgment seat of God—you are living for earth and not for Heaven. If you resist or complain about the demands of your state in life, whether the monastic vows or the requirements of family and other responsibilities—you are living for earth and not for Heaven. If you refuse to accept sufferings, hardships, and even occasional ill-treatment, refuse to accommodate another’s wishes, or if you return evil for evil, or hold grudges or refuse to forgive, or in any way insist on your own ideas or opinions, you are living for earth and not for Heaven.
Why is this? It is simply because you thus manifest in practice—despite what you might say or think—that your own present comfort, self-esteem, personal vindication or preferences in life are the most important things to you. If you don’t act like you are living for Heaven, then you aren’t living for Heaven–let’s decide today to drop all self-deception in this matter. If you are living for Heaven, all these selfish things that belong to this passing life will be of little concern to you, for your eyes are fixed on Jesus and the fulfillment of his promises in you. You will be equally content if things go your way or if they don’t. For this is not your home, this is not your destiny. Heaven is your home and destiny, and if you really live for Heaven, you will not respond inappropriately to insignificant things of this life. This is a tall order, but Heaven is a tall place.
To have our eyes and hearts fixed on Heaven does not mean that we don’t take seriously our earthly responsibilities—for our fidelity and obedience on earth will decide whether or not we will go to Heaven—but does mean that we won’t take ourselves too seriously, we won’t be touchy, easily offended, judgmental or suspicious of others. People who are going to Heaven don’t act as if it is of utmost importance to get their way on earth.
So let us hear the voice of the Lord calling us to Heaven, calling us out of our selfishness, calling us to serve Him by serving his people, calling us to take up our crosses willingly and to follow Him, that we may let go of everything that would hinder our straight path to his Kingdom. Our answer to his call—not in mere words but in actions—will be our decision to live for Heaven.
