The problem with Jesus’ metaphors (if I may be so bold as to suggest such a thing) is that they’re not weird ENOUGH. Well, it’s not so much a problem with the metaphors themselves; it’s a problem with us, the people hearing them. When a metaphor makes perfect sense the first time you encounter it, you don’t tend to think about it very deeply, do you? We say, “Oh, sure; Jesus is the bread of life because he nourishes us; got it,” and if there’s no additional information, we move on. But while no metaphor is perfect, the thing about a good one is that the more you think about it, the more it can teach you.
Take today’s Scripture reading, for example. We all remember Jesus’ famous metaphor comparing the act of making disciples with fishing. It’s included in three out of the four gospels: Matthew, Mark, and, of course, Luke. Matthew and Mark both keep their narratives short – five verses each. In their versions, the metaphor stands more or less on its own: Jesus sees fishermen, says, “Hey, you know how you catch fish for a living? If you follow me, you’ll be doing the same thing, only with people,” so they do. Pretty straightforward, right? So we figure that making disciples is like a fishing trip: you go out, catch a few people, and bring your haul back to the Church. Simple as that. Onto the next lesson.
Luke, on the other hand, spends twice as much time with this story as Matthew and Mark do. Part of this is because Luke is just a generally chatty guy, but it’s also because, unlike his fellow gospel writers, he makes a point to offer some context for this important metaphor. He doesn’t just lay Jesus’ words on the page and walk away; he makes a point to provide us with background that we need to REALLY understand them. But since Luke, a skilled rhetorician, wants to convey this information in the most impactful way possible, he doesn’t just tack a dry and clunky explanation of Jesus’ words at the end of this passage. Instead, he artfully weaves this information into the story itself.
We can’t fully appreciate all that Luke is actually telling us about Jesus’ metaphor just by reading the story through once from beginning to end. If this passage were made into a movie, the metaphor would be the surprise twist at the end: “From now on, you will be fishing for PEOPLE.” (“No way!! I did NOT see that coming!!”) Then, before moving on with the plot, the director would show a montage of moments from earlier in the film that have new meaning in hindsight – clues that had been pointing toward the big reveal all along without our realizing it. With literature, though, we have to create our own montage by rereading the passage in light of this new information. So let’s take another look at it, keeping Jesus’s metaphor in mind.
It’s no coincidence that a metaphor about fishing immediately follows a STORY about fishing. Although we may not have realized it during our first read-through, the story provides us with a concrete frame of reference for Jesus’ words. Without this context, we might imagine the act of “fishing for people” as a leisure activity, like what retirees do for fun while sipping a few beers and enjoying the outdoors. Cast your line, sit back and relax until you feel a nibble, reel it in, and repeat for as long as it remains enjoyable; then, go back to your “normal life”. We might assume that “fishing for people” is something that followers of Christ do in their spare time. But thanks to Luke, we know that’s not what Jesus is communicating at all.
Fishing in the first century was hard, disgusting, and often fruitless manual labor. Fishermen used heavy nets that had to be repaired and cleaned at the end of every single trip, regardless of how few fish they’d caught (as Luke points out in verse 2). When the nets WERE full, fishermen didn’t have the benefit of a pulley system to haul in their catch; they had to heave it straight up and over the side of their boat using brute strength. This was no hobby; this was a full-time job. Jesus’ metaphor comes after an especially long, exhausting, and singularly unproductive night for Simon and his partners, which was then followed immediately by a haul so big that it put both their equipment and their lives at risk. They knew that THIS was what the life of a fisherman was really like – and by extension, they understood that a life spent fishing for people wouldn’t be an easy one, either.
If recruiting followers for Jesus is like fishing, we shouldn’t expect it to be a casual activity. If we treat it like a hobby, we’re doing it wrong. If we take this responsibility seriously, we should expect to work hard. We should expect to be tired. We should expect to get our hands dirty. We should expect to get hurt. We should expect that there will be plenty of failure. Because this is the immediate context in which Jesus describes his disciples’ calling. This thing that we signed up for isn’t the sort of job that can be done halfway.
But that’s not all that Luke wants to make sure we understand. There’s at least one other thing that we may have missed on our first read-through of this passage. The story begins with Jesus instructing Simon to “row out a little distance” so that he could teach the crowds from the boat[5]. He spoke; the crowd was satisfied; all was good. But Jesus wasn’t done. “Row out farther, into the DEEP water,” he insists. Of course, Simon was skeptical – after all, he was an experienced fisherman, and he hadn’t caught anything all night. But instead of staying close to shore or even going back home, as he wanted to, he did as Jesus asked. The only reason he and his partners had any success at all that day was because they were willing to row out into the deep water, against their better judgement.
When you’re fishing, you’re not going to accomplish much if you stay on land. If you row out a little distance, you may get a few bites here or there, but it’s only once you venture into the truly deep water – away from comfort, away from safety, away from what’s familiar – that you can possibly hope to see real, meaningful results. If fishing for people is like fishing for fish, then it follows that those of us who follow Christ need to be prepared to get ourselves out of the shallows and into the deep.
The shallows are the places in our lives that are within our comfort zone. It’s not quite “doing nothing”, but it doesn’t really demand much of us, either. Most of us are willing to leave the safety of land to wade into the shallows in Jesus’ name, but the only “fish” we’ll actually be able to catch there are the ones that are practically in the boat already: the ones who have already gathered to hear Jesus’ words, the ones who share our point of view, who’ll be receptive to the message no matter what. Fishing for people in the shallows may make us feel good, but it’s not likely to have much of an impact, in the grand scheme of things.
Fishing in the deep, on the other hand…it’s risky, it’s scary, it’s a gamble – but when it pays off, it is SO worth it! That’s where we find the people whose hearts most need mending, whose spirits long for Good News, whose minds don’t yet know the Jesus of mercy and love. That’s the kind of fishing that changes lives. That’s the kind of fishing that can transform the world. That’s the kind of fishing that can bring about the kindom of heaven. But we can’t do it from within our comfort zone – we HAVE to venture out there into the deep, dark unknown.
We’re entering a time in our lives and in our nation’s history where our strongest instinct may be to protect ourselves. Our energy will be depleted more quickly than we thought possible, and we’ll be tempted to insulate ourselves from difficult conversations and criticism. We won’t give up on our faith (in fact, there will probably be times that it’s the only thing that keeps us going), but we won’t be living it out as boldly and unapologetically as we need to be. We’ll want to stay in the shallows and go on quick fishing trips when we have the time, energy, and inclination to do so.
It’s hard. It will go painfully slowly. There will be times that we fail completely. That’s the life of a fisherman, as Simon, James, and John can tell you. But the biggest difference between fishing for fish and fishing for people is the captain of our boat. With Jesus at the helm, we know that God will use even our failures for good. We don’t need to be afraid, because Jesus is Lord – even the darkest night is as light to him.[6] No matter how overwhelming the calling might become in the weeks and months ahead, in those times that we find ourselves most lacking in courage, let us lean on the words of Archbishop Desmond Tutu: “Goodness is stronger than evil; Love is stronger than hate; Light is stronger than darkness; Life is stronger than death; Victory is ours through Him who loves us.” Thanks be to God – now let’s go fishing. Amen.
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[5] It may sound strange that Jesus would want to get AWAY from the crowd to preach, but keep in mind that water carries the human voice farther and more clearly than land.
[6] Psalm 139:12.
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