You know, I have to admit something to you this morning. When I was about ten years old, my parents used to take me on vacation to Cape Vincent, a small cottage fishing village along the St. Lawrence River. My father knew a coworker who had built a home there and invited us to go fishing with him out on the river. The only problem was that Matty's tummy couldn't handle the ride. Once our guide found the spot where the fish were biting, we'd sit in the boat with our fishing lines in the water, waiting for a nibble. But the boat would be bobbling up and down in the water, and my insides would be bobbling up and down until I became seasick and they'd have to take me back to shore.
For me, fishing was always something old retired guys did off the pier. You know the type – bring a deck chair, drink a few beers, maybe fall asleep with your rod in the water. But fishing for a living? That's a whole different story. As I got older, I began to understand what real fishing meant in the ancient world. It was brutal, back-breaking work. The bleeding hands, the sheer danger of a life on the ocean, the long hours away from home – these fishermen weren't having a leisurely afternoon by the water. They were engaged in hard, uncertain labor just to put food on the table.
So when we hear in today's Gospel that Jesus walks by the Sea of Galilee and sees Peter and Andrew casting their nets, we need to understand what he's really asking of them. He says, "Come after me, and I will make you fishers of men." And immediately – Matthew tells us *immediately* – they left their nets and followed him.
Now, here's what strikes me about this. These men were leaving a life that was brutal, hard, and fairly uncertain. But what were they trading it for? A life that would be brutal, hard, completely uncertain, and would end in martyrdom for most of them! Notice how Matthew begins this whole section – he tells us that John the Baptist has been arrested. Jesus is starting his ministry with a warning sign flashing right in front of him: "This path leads to danger."
So why would they do it? Either they were really desperate to get out of the fishing business, or there was something about Jesus that compelled them to change their identities and embrace a completely new way of life.
Here's my question for all of us today: Have you caught anybody lately?
I know, I know – that sounds pushy. You might be thinking, "Father, I don't want to force my faith on anybody. I don't think religion should be something you wear on your sleeve." And I get that. We don't want to be obnoxious or intrusive. But if we're honest with ourselves, this might not be a sign of our great humility. Rather, we know it's a risk to intrude into anyone else's life and try to talk with them about important matters.
Or maybe you're thinking, "I'm just not that good at talking about my faith. I don't know the right words to use." I understand that too. But notice what Jesus actually says to these fishermen. He doesn't tell them, "Come follow me and I will teach you to have intelligent religious discussions." He doesn't say, "I'll make you great preachers" or "I'll turn you into theologians." Rather, his expectations are much more practical. He says, "I will make you fishers of men." He builds on something they already know how to do.
Think about that for a moment. Jesus takes their ordinary skills – their knowledge of nets and boats and patience and persistence – and transforms them into tools for the kingdom of God. He doesn't ask them to become something completely different. He asks them to bring who they already are into his service.
The same is true for us. We each have skills, experiences, relationships, and gifts that Jesus can use. Maybe you're good at listening. Maybe you're skilled at organizing. Maybe you have a gift for making people feel welcome. Maybe you've been through difficult times and can offer hope to others who are struggling. Jesus can take all of that and use it to draw people closer to him.
Sometimes I think being the Catholic Church today can feel like being an ancient fisherman. It can be brutal, hard, and uncertain. The fish don't always seem to be swimming our way. And the fish already in the net have so many reasons to try and tear themselves loose – there's pain, sickness, family issues, fear, disillusionment with the Church itself. We can feel like we're working hard and not catching much.
But here's what we can't forget: Jesus didn't promise his first disciples that fishing for people would be easy. He promised that he would be with them. "I will make you fishers of men" – *I* will do it. Not you alone, but *I* working through you.
Most of us got here to this church through fairly ordinary means. Our parents brought us when we were young. A friend invited us. Someone we worked with mentioned their faith community. These weren't dramatic, blinding-light conversions. They were simple invitations extended and accepted. And that's usually how it works.
So when's the last time you invited someone to come with you to Mass? When's the last time you mentioned to a coworker that your parish has a great program for their kids? When's the last time you offered to pray for someone who was going through a difficult time? These are simple things – casting the net, if you will.
You know what people say when they're asked why they're not active in a church? The number one reason is: no one ever asked me. Think about that. We're not talking about people who are hostile to faith. We're talking about people who are just waiting for an invitation.
Lord, I pray for all my Sonshine Friends, help us to see the opportunities he's placing before us this week. Maybe there's someone at work who needs encouragement. Maybe there's a neighbor who's going through a hard time. Maybe there's a family member who's drifted away from the Church and just needs someone to reach out with love and without judgment. We're all fishers now. Jesus has called us by name, just as he called Peter and Andrew. The question is: will we leave our nets and follow him? Will we let him transform our ordinary gifts into tools for his kingdom?
