Loading...The first disciples of Jesus are fisherfolk. If that is a prerequisite, I am eminently unqualified. Thankfully, Jesus calls disciples from other walks of life, but the first are fisherfolk.
I came to a deeper appreciation of the wisdom of such a choice in the summer
between my first and second years of seminary, when I said, “Here am I; send me,” in answer to an ad in a church periodical about summer internships in Newfoundland and Labrador.
I was assigned to the rugged territory of Labrador, which is the eastern edge of the Canadian mainland. Home base was St. Andrew’s Church in Happy Valley - Goose Bay, the largest settlement in Labrador because of a military airbase, but my travels regularly took me out to the several outport villages where the people summered, not for leisurely purpose, but to ply their trade in the salmon fishery. It was at their fishing cabins scattered along Hamilton Inlet that their qualities of diligence, persistence, and unselfishness shone as brightly as the summer sun that almost never sets in that northern clime.
Because of that adventure in ministry, what I call my “Northern Exposure” summer, I have an abiding appreciation for why fishing is the core trade for disciples of Jesus, so that following him means joining a community of fisherfolk. Even church buildings like ours are reminiscent of a ship. The arched ceiling, if we flip it over, becomes the hull. The main area, from which you all participate, is the nave, from the Latin navis, ship. Among the earliest Christian symbols is the Greek acronym - Iota, Chi, Theta, Psi, Sigma - the first letters of an early creed: Jesus Christ, God’s Son, Savior. In Greek, those letters spell icthus, fish, and so an early Christian symbol is the shape of a fish with those letters inscribed along its lateral line.
We, the church, are the crew of a fishing vessel. Our primary equipment is the fishing net, the good news of God’s love in Christ, which catches some who are swimming in darkness and the storms of life, brings them up to the light, the light of Christ; to life, New Life in Christ.
To serve on this crew means having a certain diligence, being willing to work, because we have work to do. This act of liturgy is work we do together. The nave is not the place for the audience. The audience is the One whose presence is bespoken by the altar table, to whom we sing, Glory to God in the highest.
Our work does not end here, for we are sent out with a bidding to love and serve the Lord, or to go in the name of Christ, or to rejoice in the power of the Spirit, or simply to bless the Lord. By whatever bidding we are sent, it is to continue our work of proclaiming the Good News by word and example.
Persistence is a quality of those who serve on this crew. Keep setting the net. Keep on sharing the good news, even when the fishing seems unproductive, when we share Simon’s weary frustration, “we’ve worked all night long but caught nothing.”
There was a time my persistence was challenged by weariness and feeling downright old. A few years ago I tried to relive former glory from my early years as a priest and do some teaching with the Emmanuel EYC by offering a Lenten series for them. One evening I had something planned I thought would be so beneficial to their emerging faith. I went through the talk I planned, and it seemed they were completely checked out and missed the whole point of it. I went home that Wednesday evening with that “worked all night long and caught nothing” feeling. I decided I’m just too old to relate to young people anymore. Then, a couple months later, at summer camp,one of our young people gave a response during a teaching session that the leader thought just nailed the whole point of the discussion, and asked how she was able to share that insight, to which she responded, “Fr. Matt taught us that in a Bible study,” the same Bible study where I thought they were all checked out. Be persistent. Keep setting the net. The catch will come.
During my summer with the Labrador fisherfolk, the fishing was not productive. Winter was especially long that year. The ice in Hamilton Inlet was persistent and the salmon were slow to come in, but it did not quench the unselfish spirit of those good people. One day in mid-July I was making the rounds, visiting families at their fishing cabins, and came to one where they had just netted their first salmon of the season. Such a late first catch pointed to a tough winter for this family.And what did they do with their first salmon of the season? When I showed up, along with David Woolfrey, my motorboat chauffeur, they were starting to prepare it for the smokehouse, but switched gears and pan-fried it and shared it with us, along with the ingredients they were planning to be their supper that evening, eggs and homemade bread with Labrador red berry jam. I told them there was no need to cook special for us, but they seemed glad to have guests and to share their catch of the day. And when we sat down at their hewn log table, the heartfelt grace that prefaced the meal was a beautiful offering, rising up like incense to heaven. That evening at that fishing camp is a fond memory of my Northern Exposure summer. Even now, I can hear the salmon crackling in the pan, feel the crisp evening air dipping into the 30’s even in mid-July, see the plates lovingly presented, and taste the delicate sweetness of the red berry jam.
Encountering Jesus, be it in the northern wilds of Labrador, or on the deck of one’s fishing boat on Gennesaret, has a way of opening up new vistas by turning the frame of reference away from self, where it seems to get so easily stuck, and toward the world and the people around.
Peter, along with James and John, allowed their encounter with Jesus to totally turn their priorities from self-preservation to following him and learning his way of Agape, sacrificial, servant-hearted love, not knowing exactly where following him would lead, but knowing they had to follow because life was different than it had been before Jesus borrowed Peter’s fishing boat.
The same Jesus is here in this holy place, in this holy hour, inviting us into a transformational encounter from which to emerge knowing that life is different now than it was before we came into this place; knowing that the work we do, the work of worship and the work of mission, is blessed work; knowing that if we just keep setting the net of evangelism by telling the good news of Jesus, or the net of mission by showing Jesus to others through loving service, the nets will fill up; and knowing that the loving power of Jesus to turn our focus from self to following and serving him means navigating on the course of the Lord’s good purpose as those who have been set free from the bondage of sin into the liberty of abundant life, life in Christ, and glorious light, the light of Christ that knows no setting.
Matthew Rowe+
