Of boats, boots and following Jesus

When my parents retired twenty or more years go they moved to a small seaside town on the English coast called Brixham. It is a picturesque place with a houses carefully laid out over the hillside down over the fishing port and now the much more modern marina, a perfect picture postcard spot. Every year tourists flock in to enjoy the old-fashioned feel of winding streets and quaint cottages and to watch the fishing fleet come and go.
Aquaculture and agriculture were the traditional industries of that area of the country, long before anyone thought of tourism, farmers and fisherfolk went about their daily tasks. The fish quay in Brixham is still a vital part of the local economy.

If you have ever seen a commercial fishing vessel you will know it is not a comfortable creature. They are great hulking masses of metal, huge chunks of this and that, great rivets, not much  aesthetically pleasing about them. These vessels are designed to withstand the ravages of the ocean not the vagueries of fashion. They are practical to the core. They are a place of work, often much loved work, but hard work and dangerous work. In the UK, deep sea fishing comes out as one of the most dangerous occupations you can have.
When Jesus calls Simon Peter and Andrew, fishermen, he is not calling people who are engaged in a Sunday afternoon line and bait hobby activity, he is calling men engaged in a hard and physical task. The Sea of Galilee, whilst not a true sea, can be a treacherous body of water. Simon and Andrews boat was probably not enormous and their nets would have been handmade from natural fibers which would have meant they were heavy when they were wet.
To fish they would have cast out the net and hauled it back in, time and time again, searching through to see if they had caught anything worth keeping. A day's fishing would involve repeating this process twenty or more times until, perhaps, enough was caught to eat and to sell. The image of a net full of fish would have been an extraordinary day - most days would have been much slower, much more laborious. Of course, there were the days when nothing was caught and the nets were empty.

Jesus calls the disciples to a world of ordinary, to a world of ups and downs which they already know about. Some days they will find full nets, other days they will return to shore with no fish, this is simply the way life is. They will feel tired, there will be storms. Why would it be any different - this is fishing. They know this.
Somehow though, we have neatly dissected this to the Sunday afternoon Bass Pro version of fishing. We have found our tree and our chair with our cup holder, and our shelter in case of rain. We might have invested in a some fancy gizmo to find fish, or a rod and reel which glows in the dark - who knows. But we barely move unless a fish swims right into us - we snooze, we read a book and if we catch nothing we will simply stop for pizza on the way home because, after all, it really does not matter.
There is such a big difference in those two sorts of fishing - fishing because life depends upon it - and fishing because, well, I might feel like it sometimes. Jesus calls the Disciples to that first sort of fishing - and that sort of fishing is hard to make up - it is something which has to come from deep inside.
And that comes down to a story. What net are we drawing folk into - what story are we telling? What net are we casting, what words are we weaving together? Jesus asks his followers to look at Him - follow me - he says. It is simple. They have someone to look to - someone to look at.

This is a little bit scary for us perhaps - because the only people we can invite people to look at is us - we are not inviting people to follow us - we are inviting them to follow Jesus but what we are saying is - hey, look, this really works for me - perhaps you could give it a try too.
This is what full-time fishing looks like - being willing to wade-out waist deep - even when the water is freezing.
Yes, we would love to invite people to Church. Yes we would love all sorts of memberships and clubs and episcopal things but more than that wouldn't you love all the people you love to love Jesus - and you know what - you are in the best position to make that just a little bit closer to happening by telling them that you do. Carefully, kindly even subtlely - but that is fishing. Fishing is about being patient and understanding the fish because if you thrash around like an idiot you won't catch anything but if you pay attention and know how fish work you will do much better.
"Come and I will make you fishers of people." So, OK - we will get a bit wet, and a bit cold, and sometimes we will wonder whether this fishing gig is such a good thing after all - but then there will be those days, those glorious days, when the sun sits big on the horizon, and the ocean lays like glass and we hear the whispered voice of God calling our name, reminding us of home.