By Scott Spreier
“I am going fishing!”
Don’t you just love Peter? The disciples are still together in a post-resurrection tither, and Peter, the impetuous one, announces he’s going fishing.
What better way to deal with what had just happened? I can relate. As a child, one Easter weekend after hearing a rather gory Good Friday homily, I begged my father to take me fishing. Under pressure from my mother, he did. It was cold and rainy and the fish weren’t biting. When we returned home, Mom asked what we caught. “Nothing,” Dad growled, “but a gosh-dang cold!”
Peter and the guys must have felt the same way when, nets empty from a night of fishing, they returned to shore, and a stranger on the beach had the audacity to tell them they were fishing from the wrong side of the boat. No wonder a naked Peter, upon recognizing this fishing guide was Jesus, put on his clothes and jumped into the sea.
Today, many of us feel like we’re adrift on a sea of uncertainty, our nets filled with nothing but fear, anger and hopelessness. From the port side of our ship of life, we fill our nets with digital flotsam and jetsam, some factual, some false, much of it angry and demeaning. Overwhelmed, we ignore the waters on the starboard side of our vessel — waters alive with love, care and hope.
Why, during this time of unrest and doubt, are we so easily drawn to the dark side of the discord? Why, instead of focusing on healing our nation’s wounds and building a bridge to a better future, do we continue to flounder in this dark and stormy sea? Why, 2,000 years after Jesus told Peter to “feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep,” do we continue to treat those who see the world from a different perspective as goats?
Sadly, it’s because we’re human. And despite the advances we’ve made, we are incredibly slow learners when it comes to understanding our own species and what Jesus tried to teach us.
Our Lord clearly knew how to fish — not only for the finned kind, but also for humankind. He knew that bringing both to the net required patience and understanding. Both must be engaged in their own space, on their own terms, and in an unobtrusive manner. Neither people nor fish react well if we jump up and down and scream at them. And yet, like Peter, we all too often are ready to take off an ear when someone says or does something we find offensive.
As we worship today, let us pray that we put down our weapons of fear and hate, replace our anger with empathy, turn the other ear and really listen, and that we finally bring a peaceful end to this time of great uncertainty.