The Peter in me

and maybe in you too

I feel sure God created Peter so we could see ourselves more clearly.

In Luke 5, a crowd was following Jesus to hear him teach, and they were at the lake of Gennesaret. Jesus saw two ships hauled up on the beach, but no one was in them. The Bible says the fishermen who owned them were “washing their nets.” Apparently they’d been out fishing already, and now they were back and were cleaning up their tools.

But there was a crowd who’d been following Jesus, and it’s hard to teach when people are all on top of you. So Jesus got into the ship (we would call it a boat by today’s standards) that just happened to be Peter’s, and he asked Peter to “thrust out a little from the land.” Peter did so, and Jesus “sat down, and taught the people out of the ship.”

Don’t miss the fact that while Jesus was teaching the people, Peter was listening too. He was a captive audience with a front-row seat.

When Jesus was finished teaching, he said to Peter (v 4),

Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draught.

I imagine that just having returned from a fishing trip, Peter was tired and only wanted to finish cleaning up and go home. But here was this teacher, so how could he refuse? He began his answer by saying,

Master, . . .

Peter had no doubt heard of the man Jesus and had just listened to his teaching and maybe had heard of his miracles. We’ve heard of him too, haven’t we? But maybe Peter was still a skeptic. Maybe he was withholding judgment until he had time to learn more about this guy sitting in his boat, giving him orders. Maybe we do this too. But in the meantime, Peter didn’t want to offend the man in front of him, so he addressed him as “Master . . .” We definitely do this. It’s easy to say the words even when we don’t fully believe them. I’ll just placate Jesus until I can get out of this situation.

Peter continued,

. . . we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing . . .

Ah, there it is, the excuse. I’ll call you Master, but I will immediately follow it with a reason why your plan won’t work. (Please tell me I’m not the only one who does this.) That’s your plan, God? Well, listen to mine. I have a better one. Certainly my experience is more relevant than your idea. You’re telling me what to do? I’ve already tried that and it didn’t work. (I try not to be too hard on Peter because I’m exactly like him.) What he really wanted to say was, “Look, I’m exhausted from working third shift and I just want to go home.” (You and me, Peter. We always have an excuse.)

. . . nevertheless at thy word . . .

I can hear the resignation in Peter’s voice. Despite the fact that he already knows they won’t catch anything, he’ll go to all the work of doing what Jesus said to do. It will be an effort in futility, for sure, but just to prove he understands Jesus’ position is higher than his (roll the eyes, shake the head), he will do it.

. . . I will let down the net.

Heavy sigh.

So much work, so much bother. And I already know it will be all for nothing. What a waste of my time. I’m the fisherman here. I know when they’re biting and when they’re not. Who is this guy thinking he knows more than I, the one who was practically raised in this boat? I’m out on this lake every night, and he’s telling me how to catch fish?

If attitude could be inherited, I would say we got it from Peter. Lord, I’ve already tried to reason with my wife and she just refuses to get it. I’m sick of trying. God, I’ve already tried to get my husband to see it my way, but it’s like he has blinders on. There’s no hope anything will change.

Poor Peter (poor me). He’s so smart and accomplished, such a hard worker, knowledgeable about the sea and fishing, and no one gives him credit for it. I know my husband better than you do, Lord. I’ve lived with my wife all these years. She’s not going to straighten up. It’s a waste to even try.

But just to pacify the Lord, Peter will let down “the net.” Just this one.

But what was it Jesus told him to do?

. . . let down your nets . . .

I don’t know how many nets Peter had, but it was more than one. In the very beginning when Jesus showed up, he and his fishing partners were “washing their nets”—plural, more than one. And after platitudes and excuses and thinking he knows better than the Lord, Peter grudgingly agreed to let down one net.

Okay, let’s get this over with. The sooner I let down a net, the sooner I can wash it all over again and get home.

That is so me. I am Peter. I call Jesus Lord but doubt his ability and question his motives. I half-heartedly do what he asks of me, 100% doubting that anything good will come of it because, after all, I’ve already tried that and it didn’t work, and I know better. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. Peter shows me exactly who I am.

Verse 6 might be my favorite. Remember, it’s just Peter and Jesus in the boat:

And when they had this done, they inclosed a great multitude of fishes: and their net brake.

Who is the “they” that let down the net? It could only be Peter and Jesus—they were the only two in the boat. Despite all of Peter’s doubt and attitude, Jesus was right there helping him let down his one measly, unbelieving net, probably giggling inside because he knew what was about to happen. Jesus didn’t just sit there and watch—he took part in the work he told Peter to do.

Friend, you will never let down your net alone. If Jesus tells you to do it, he will be right there in the boat doing it with you.

So you and Jesus have let down your net, and you’ve (both of you) caught a “great multitude” of fishes—more than you can imagine. So many, in fact, that it is miraculous. And your net—the net that you and Jesus let down together—bursts with all the goodness it’s trying to contain.

Listen, when Jesus tells you to throw your nets, throw all the nets you have. Don’t be dumb and hold back because this situation is a lost cause and it’s been 20 years (or 30 or 50) and nothing has changed so nothing will ever change and I’ll just suffer it until I die because I’ve tried everything and nothing worked and okay, fine, here’s my stupid net.

Can you hear yourself? I hear me.

But wait—there’s more!

Verse 7:

And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink.

When you let down your net and Jesus fills it with a “great multitude,” not only will your boat be filled, but other people’s boats will be filled too. When Jesus does a work in your life, there is spillover that covers your friends, your family, your brothers and sisters in Christ. Everyone who hears of it will be filled to overflowing.

For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes . . .

“All that were with him” shared in the joy of the miracle Jesus did for Peter.

We can learn so much from Peter, can’t we? I love that he “fell down at Jesus’ knees” after all this. I want to do the same, but wouldn’t it be great if I could do it before Jesus breaks my net?