Sunday, May 2

Luke 5:10

Four years ago this month, I was introduced to fly fishing. My friend’s father was an avid fisherman, leading my friend to take a similar interest in the sport. The three of us planned a weekend and met in the Grand Canyon.

Upon arriving, I watched as my friend and his father prepared the flies for the next day. Fishing was not foreign to me, but fly fishing was new, and I had a lot to learn. The legend of the next day’s fishing spot had preceded my arrival. I remembered stories of dozens of fish being caught in a single day. I didn’t dare envision similar success for myself, but the possibility alone excited me.

The next day started early as we set out along the Colorado River to find the perfect spot. While we motored down the river, I received instruction on how to fly fish. I learned how to most effectively disguise my lure as an insect and the art of casting. I also learned some common mistakes that alert the fish that something is different about the lure.

I listened as best I could, but I could not help thinking, “I’ve fished before. I get it, and this place is filled with fish. How hard can it be? I’ll get mine.” Finally, we arrived at a nice bend and docked. We prepared our poles and each of us picked a spot. The surrounding beauty was inspiring.


My friend's father as he fishes

My friend’s father had caught his first fish by the time I was able to cast my line 15 feet in front of me. It wasn’t long until I regretted not paying more detailed attention to my instructions while we were in the boat. While my friend and I struggled with our technique, his father seemed to catch a fish each time his lure hit the water.

I struggled to emulate, but I could not shadow my friend’s father. I remember coming close at times and felt multiple nibbles, but nothing was biting. Slightly distraught, I began to make excuses – if only I had a ‘normal’ fishing pole, my fishing partners were both in better spots, there must be something wrong with my pole, my lure, and so forth.

Recognizing my frustration, my friend’s father made his way over. He relieved me of my pole and proceeded to demonstrate the lesson he had given while we were in the boat. I remember thinking, “Let’s see you do it with this pole.” Without even trying, and while simply demonstrating form in my spot and with my pole, he hooked a fish. Kindly, he passed me the pole, and I caught my only fish that trip.

Despite my fly fishing inadequacies, the trip was very entertaining and relaxing. And, I was able to see a master at his craft.

Peter, James and others observed The Master at His craft in the fifth chapter of Luke. After casting out an evil spirit in Capernaum and healing Peter’s mother in law, Christ begin to gather quite a following. At the lake of Gennesaret, he borrowed Peter’s fishing boat as He taught the multitude from the lake.

Much like me on my fly-fishing trip, Peter and his fellow fishermen had spent the whole day out at sea without any luck. They were mending their nets when Jesus asked to use their boat as His pulpit.

After the sermon, Christ told Peter and the others to head back out and try once more. I think I know how Peter felt. They knew how to fish, what could the son of a carpenter possibly know about fishing that they had yet to learn? Nonetheless, he responded, “Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing: nevertheless at thy word I will let down the net” (Luke 5:5).

They cast their nets. No sooner had they cast, they were filled. So filled, their nets, which had just been repaired, began to brake under the weight of the fishes. So overwhelming was the quantity of fishes, that they called their partners to help them in another boat. Not even that was enough, and both ships began sinking under the weight of their catch.

“When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, O Lord. For he was astonished, and all that were with him, at the draught of the fishes which they had taken: And so was also James, and John, the sons of Zebedee, which were partners with Simon” (Luke 5:8-10).

I found myself in similar astonishment after watching my friend’s father catch fish with such great ease. So much in fact, that the next time he shared fishing tips with me, I was much more attentive. Christ wanted the same response from Peter.

“Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men” (Luke 5:10).

Peter and his group knew how to fish, but they needed help to catch men. To have success, they would need to do it His way. I learned the same lesson from my friend’s dad, who also happened to be a Bishop.

Since my fly-fishing trip, I’ve realized I often try to fish in my own way. The results are always the same – failure. No matter how much we know about fishing, when it comes to His work, there’s only one way to do it, and that’s His way.

However, as we submit to His will and live our lives the way He would have us, there is no fish we cannot catch.