1-3 Once when he was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the Word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd.
4 When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.”
5-7 Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch.
8-10 Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon.
10-11 Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him.
The Danish theologian, Soren Kierkegaard, related a homely parable about a flock of geese that milled around in a filthy barnyard imprisoned by a high fence. One day a preaching goose came into their midst. He stood on an old crate and admonished the geese for being content with this confined, earthbound existence. He recounted the exploits of their forefathers who spread their wings and flew the trackless wastes of the sky. He spoke of the goodness of the Creator who had given geese the urge to migrate and the wings to fly. This pleased the geese. They nodded their heads and marveled at these things and applauded the eloquence of the preaching goose. All this they did. But one thing they never did. They didn’t fly. They went back to their waiting dinner, for the corn was good and the barnyard secure.
It is not easy to risk; to risk rejection in order to discover friendship; failure in order to discover success; security in order to discover something new; faith in order to discover God.
The call to follow Jesus is a call to risk.
To risk is to come alive; it is to find life by loosing it; it is to discover what otherwise remains hidden. As Albert Schweitzer said, as an” ineffable mystery” out of the risk of following Jesus “we shall learn who He is”, and who we are!
“The disciple is dragged out of his relative
security into a life of absolute insecurity,
from a life which is observable and calculable
into a life where everything is unobservable
and fortuitous, out of the realm of finite and
into the realm of infinite possibilities.”
Bonhoeffer, The Cost Of Discipleship
Prayer thought for the week: “Lord, help me to risk being your discipleship even if the risk is great. Help me to come alive too who you are and who I am called to be - your disciple!” Amen
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