"I will make you fishers of men, fishers of men, fishers
of men. I will make you fishers of men,
if you’ll follow me." This song –
one that a lot of us sang when we were kids – this song is of course based on
the King James translation, which says "fishers of men," but our more modern translation recognizes that when
Jesus said "men" – anthropon,
in Greek – he meant of course both men and
women, and so it has translated it as such, and I think that it is a change of
which Jesus would have heartily approved . . . after all, Jesus comes to folks
where they are, as they are . . . he could have said "follow me and
I will cause you to proclaim the gospel to all you meet," or "follow
me and I will make you preachers of the Good News of God’s inbreaking kingdom on
earth," but he didn’t . . . they’re fishermen
he’s talking to here, undoubtedly simple men and he uses an analogy that they
would understand . . . and so I don’t think he minds one bit our spelling out
his inclusiveness of all human beings in his charge to the newly-minted
disciples: "Follow me and I will make you fish for people."
A lot of us grew up fishing, whether on lakes or oceans or streams
or farm ponds. At my first church, on
the Oregon Pacific Rim, they had a special affinity for the image of fishing,
especially commercial fishing, like the disciples were doing. Of course, by the time I got there it was
almost a fond memory, because it was all but fished out thereabouts, with only
sports fishing left. Except the
crabbers, that is. In the Gulf of
Alaska, crabbing is known as the most dangerous occupation in the world, worse
even than fireman or policeman . . . that’s in Alaska, but there on the Oregon
coast it’s plenty dangerous enough . . . At night, we’d see bright lights on
the water, shining like so many carbon-arc stars, and they were attached to
remarkably small boats . . . rarely a season goes by but what they don’t loose
a crab boat or two, with all hands on board . . . Some of Pam’s clients were
crabbers, and it could get so rough that they had to be lashed to the boat for
the duration of the trip . . . and crabbing is subject to the vagaries of any
natural resource . . . One year, many of
the crabbers knew that the crabs weren’t mature, but they had to go out anyway
to keep the big corporate boats from staking out all the good spots . . .
finally, they’re subject to the market, they’re on the first rung of the
production ladder and every year must negotiate the best deal from the
processors they can . . . and when we lived there, they were getting the same
price they did fifteen years before, and do you know anything that doesn’t
risen in cost over fifteen years? If
inflation were only 2% over fifteen years, that’s a 30% loss in real income . .
.
And so I think this image of spreading the gospel as
"fishing" isn’t quite as innocuous, isn’t quite as bland as we sometimes assume. If it’s analogous to fishing for fish – or crabs or whales or whatever – then fishing for humans might be dangerous and
uncertain and ultimately deleterious to your health. Which is what the
Apostle Paul discovered . . . he wrote to the Corinthians: that he had endured
countless floggings, and was often near death.
"Five times," he said "I have received . . . forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods. Once I
received a stoning. Three times I was shipwrecked; for a night and a day I was
adrift at sea; on frequent journeys, in danger from rivers, danger from
bandits, danger from my own people, danger from Gentiles, danger in the city,
danger in the wilderness, danger at sea, danger from false brothers and
sisters; in toil and hardship, through many a sleepless night, hungry and
thirsty, often without food, cold and naked." Doesn’t sound like the most dangerous job
back then was crabbing . . .
And you say "Thank God we don’t live in those times," but I
say "not so fast" . . . Christians might not be being persecuted so
much in the United States, but
they are around the world . . . Not so long ago, citizens of Indonesia attacked
and killed Christians in the Moluccas Islands . . . house churches in China and
Java have been raided or shut down . . . in Vietnam, Montagnard Christians have
been jailed and "disappeared" as they come back from their Cambodian
exile. But even though Christians aren’t
being openly harmed in our country,
fishing for people can be a lot like fishing for fish in other ways . . . take
uncertainty, for instance. Folks who
work in Christian social services – proclaiming the gospel not just in words,
but in action – commonly feel discouraged, they get depressed, because they see
so little progress . . . some of my more evangelical sisters and brothers, who
concentrate more on proclaiming it in word,
positively agonize when
their efforts to bring others to Christ don’t bear obvious and abundant fruit .
. . the catch, both in terms of converts to the faith and lives changed for the
better, can at best be sparse and spotty.
And even in this country – especially out in the great unchurched
west coast – Christians can labor under disadvantages. Friends in Eugene, Oregon area have reported
subtle – and not so subtle – pressure in an area that prides itself on its
"diversity," and another congregation I know of finally concluded a protracted,
nasty, costly battle with their
so-called neighbors over the building of their new sanctuary. And on a smaller scale, many of us have
experienced the growing discomfort some neighbors feel about Christians, and
the growing disregard of Sunday morning as a sacrosanct time – it’s getting to
be as bad as the Sabbath –
that’s Saturday – has been for
a long time for our Jewish and Seventh-Day Adventist friends . . .
And you can point to any number of reasons for this—my favorite
is the arrogance and sense of entitlement many Christians have had in the
past—but I think it’s safe to say that being a fisher of people does not always
entail smooth sailing . . . But what’s that, you say? You’ve
never experienced any of these kinds of things?
You’ve never been harassed or made fun of or taken to court, and you’ve certainly never been physically
threatened . . . and I’m glad, but I think we have to ask ourselves why
not? If we’re preaching the gospel that
is as counter-cultural today as it was 2000 years ago, why aren’t we more at odds with our
society and culture?
Well. Be that as it may,
fishing is an occupation that’s fraught with danger, and if proclaiming the
gospel’s really anything like it,
why in heaven’s name would
anybody ever choose to do it? Well, for
one, if we go to our passage we can see
that Jesus says "Follow me and I will
make you fishers of people."
I will make you. There doesn’t seem to be a lot of choice
here, does there? I will make you fishers for human beings if you’ll only follow me . . .
but that just shoves it back a notch, doesn’t it? It just puts it back onto the
"following" part . . .why in the world would anybody follow Christ if proclaiming the Gospel were as hard or
dangerous as fishing on the open ocean – or even on the Sea of Galilee,
notorious for it’s sudden, boat-capsizing storms?
I want you to do a thought-experiment. Imagine you’re a crabber, or maybe a halibut
fisherman, and you just came in from a back-breaking day on the ocean, you’re
tired and beaten up a little bit, and you’re underwhelmed by the catch, which certainly was not what you’d hoped for, and there,
on the dock, is this guy in clean dungarees, with a well-trimmed beard and
meticulously quaffed hair, and he says: "follow me, and I will make you
fishers for people," what
would you think? What would you do?
I must confess, it would be my tendency to say "fish for people? It’s hard enough to fish for fish, who after all aren’t that
bright, and you want me to fish
for people?" And I confess that the idea of fishing for anything at that moment wouldn’t seem
all that appetizing, because I’d know full-well – as a battered, buffeted,
half-drowned off-shore fisherman – just what all is implied
by the image.
But even though we’re not told what they say, the actions of our four
fishermen speak louder than words . . . they immediately leave their nets –
James and John leave their father
– and they follow Jesus. And my question
is: why? What is it about
this stranger that makes grown men give up their livelihoods to follow him?
Is it some sort of look
about him? Maybe he had kind eyes, or a
commanding presence? We all know folks
who we’re just simply drawn to
. . . the film actor Sean Connery – the original Bond, James Bond – was like that . . . he’s got this undefinable aura about him, this assurance . . .
I think he’d make reading the phone
book interesting and compelling and real . . . this quality is sometimes called charisma – interestingly, from the
same Greek word as "grace" – and Jesus was no doubt charismatic, but
that couldn’t have been the only thing . . . the most charismatic person in the
world can still be a mis-guided fool . . . see the charismatic Jim Jones, he of
the cyanide-laced kool-aid, if you don’t believe it.
Perhaps it was what he was preaching . . . After John the
Baptist was arrested, Mark tells us, Jesus came to Galilee, proclaiming the
good news of God . . . and what was this good news? That the time is fulfilled, and the kingdom
of God has come near . . . That is indeed good news, but it was hardly unique
at the time . . . John himself preached repentance and the fulfillment of God’s
kingdom . . . what was it about Jesus that was different? Well, we can’t
know for sure, but whatever quality he had John the Baptist recognized it . . .
over in Matthew and Luke he immediately
recognizes him for who he is – the big show, the one for whom they’d all been
waiting . . . Jesus said that the kingdom
of God has come near, and John the Baptist – and Simon and Andrew and
James and John the fishermen – recognized it in Jesus. They
recognized, instinctively perhaps, that the kingdom that had come near was all rolled up into this one
man, standing right in front of them.
The kingdom of God, when God’s righteous rule breaks in upon
the land . . . the kingdom of God, where the lion lies with the lamb . . . the
kingdom of God, where we shall practice war no more, and all will be fed, and
the love of neighbor as yourself is the organizing
principle of life as we know it . . . Why would anybody follow a
stranger who promised back-breaking labor, scorn from everyone you meet, lousy
pay and long hours? Because they
recognize him for who he is . . . the pure-D, unalloyed, walking, talking, loving kingdom of God.
Brothers and sisters, that’s who we serve, that’s who we follow . . . the embodiment of
God’s kingdom, and all that goes with it . . . we follow the one who fulfills the time, who brings the
peace who – as Isaiah put it – brings news to the poor, release to the captives
and recovery of sight to the blind. We
follow the one who comforts, the one who calms, the one who will be with us in the coming time of
transition. We follow Jesus Christ of
Nazareth, and we are fishers for
human beings. Amen.
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