Wednesday, September 2, 2020

“Jesus said, ‘Bring some of the fish you’ve just caught.’ Simon Peter joined them and pulled the net to shore—153 big fish! And even with all those fish, the net didn’t rip.” (John 21: 10-11, The Message Bible)

                My Grandpa cred peaked last week. It’s time for another fish story.

                We were up at Nick and Erin’s cottage last Friday for Becket’s first birthday. It was a great day all round! William (7) and Henry (almost 5) were fishing off the end of the dock, their hooks baited with worms. They weren’t catching any thing.  William wanted to cast out into deeper water. He’s pretty good at casting but he asked me to toss the line out. I did and he decided to let me fish the cast. Now I have cast off that dock more times then I can remember over the years (Susan’s parents owned the cottage first) and I cannot recall ever catching a blessed thing. But this one time, I felt a bite, yanked and, lo and behold, I had a fish - a small mouth bass. Not very big but it was still a fish. My grandsons were very excited and impressed with Grandpa’s fishing luck. (Trust me; it was luck.)

                I used to love fishing but have gotten away from it for quite a long time.  Some of my fondest memories of my father were spending time fishing with him when I was young. I have never been the best fisherman or the most successful. I would go out with friends for a day’s fishing expedition and we caught nothing on most occasions.

                Therefore, I remember the few successes I have had.  A large pike while I was fishing from the bottom of a canoe while Susan and my sister-in-law Janice paddled.  A large catfish fishing from  the shores of the Bay of Quinte. A honey hole from which I pulled several large mouth bass of various sizes (catch and release) fishing from a rubber dinghy along the shore of a lake where we had rented a cottage. Not many, but memorable.

                It does not really surprise me that one of the disciples counted the fish on that memorable day. There were 153 fish – big ones! One might argue that they should have been paying attention to the miracle who was standing on the shore talking to them – a living Jesus. But sometimes, it’s the minor things that stick in one’s mind when one is overwhelmed with wonder and being God-struck. It was probably customary to count the fish so as to know what the full value was of your catch when one went to sell it. Doing something ordinary and familiar helps keep one’s equilibrium in unbelievable and incredible circumstances.  Even after a few appearances by Jesus, the disciples had still gone back to their old way of living. But a living Jesus won’t go away!

                We don’t easily forget many of the details of special moments. As silly as it may sound the disciples remembered caching 153 large fish on the same day as they, once again, encountered a living Jesus who was preparing something so mundane as breakfast on the shore. What a mixture of ordinary and extraordinary all happening at the same time, don’t you think?

                Jesus takes the ordinary stuff in our lives and feeds us with his presence. He appears on the shorelines of our futility and encourages us to toss our cares aside. Jesus makes his presence felt in the regular routines and changes the circumstances in ways we barely can imagine.

                Cast your spiritual lines into deeper water.  If one way isn’t working, try another. But more importantly, lift your  eyes away from your routines and occupations, your busy-ness and old habits. That’s Jesus waving at you from the shore.

                Don’t forget it!

 Dale