Going Fishing

Going Fishing

John 21:1-14

            Imagine the disciples’ frustration.  They had been cooped up in that room for more than a week.  For men like these it must have seemed like an eternity.  They were used to being outdoors.  Their occupations were not sedentary.  They didn’t hang around an office all day.  They worked with their hands, moving around, being active.  During the three years they had been with Jesus they were on a journey—on the road.  They weren’t used to being still.  They weren’t used to being stuck in one place.  They must have been very restless.

Jesus had appeared twice to them in that room.  It was a place they knew.  Still, how long could they stay there?  Even though they were still (apparently) afraid of the Jewish religious leaders, they had been in place too long.  It was time to move on, to return to someplace familiar.  It was time to go home to Galilee.

Did they sneak out?  Did they leave under the cover of darkness?  Did they all go together, or leave one or two at a time?  Did all eleven go, or just the restless ones?  We don’t know, of course.  John doesn’t tell us.  We do know at least some of them left the confines of that room and headed for the open road.  No matter how afraid they were, they probably reasoned they would be safer out of Jerusalem and away from the authorities.

Returning home wasn’t enough for some of them.  They couldn’t just sit around the house.  That wasn’t much better than the room in Jerusalem.  One day, Simon Peter announced, “I’m going fishing!”  Several others, (Thomas, Nathaniel, James, John, two others) said, “We’ll go with you.” 

This was better!  Here, they knew what they were doing.  Settling back into the routines of an occupation they knew well, performing tasks so familiar they didn’t have to think about them—this was good.  This was manageable.  This work kept their hands busy and their minds off the strange experiences of the past weeks.  Even though they fished all night (a common occurrence for these men) and caught nothing, they could deal with it.  They were back at work, back doing what they knew, back exercising muscles they hadn’t used in far too long.

Then Jesus called.  Standing on the shore he said, “How’s the fishing?”  They didn’t recognize him.  Not unusual.  They didn’t expect to see Jesus there.  It might have been early enough in the day that the light was bad.  Their minds were elsewhere—on other matters.  Whatever the reason(s), they didn’t know it was their Lord—until he told them where to find fish.  When they hauled in the catch—or tried to—they knew Jesus had found them.

Jesus always finds us.  Like Candid Camera, when we least expect, it Jesus is there with what we need.  For the disciples it was a load of fish and a most welcome breakfast.  For us it might not be material things.  We know we can’t count on Jesus to bring us that job, or the money we need to pay the rent, or the perfect life companion—although it’s not a good idea to rule these things out.  Stranger occurrences have happened to those who follow Jesus.  We do know we can count on Jesus to bring us the strength we need to cope with rough situations.  We know we can count on him to be a comforting presence in times of trouble.  We know we can count on him to fill us with the love we need to deal with those difficult people in our lives.

Like the disciples, we feel comfortable when we’re doing the ordinary day-to-day tasks of our lives.  Like them we may get so caught up in the routine that we forget about Jesus.  Don’t get too complacent.  That’s the time Jesus is most likely to call.