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In his wonderful, somewhat autobiographical book A River Runs Through It, Norman MacLean writes:

“In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen on the Sea of Galilee were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman.”

“One day a week,” he continues, “was given over wholly to religion. On Sunday mornings my brother, Paul, and I went to Sunday school and then to ‘morning services’ to hear our father preach and in the evenings to Christian Endeavor and afterwards to ‘evening services’ to hear our father preach again. In between on Sunday afternoons we had to study The Westminster Shorter Catechism for an hour and then recite before we could walk the hills with him while he unwound between services. But he never asked us more than the first question in the catechism, ‘What is the chief end of man?’ And we answered together so one of us could carry on if the other forgot; ‘Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.’ This always seemed to satisfy him, as indeed such a beautiful answer should have, and besides he was anxious to be on the hills where he could restore his soul and be filled again to overflowing for the evening sermon.”

“Even so,” MacLean goes on to say – and I love this part – “in a typical week of our childhood Paul and I probably received as many hours of instruction in fly fishing as we did in all other spiritual matters.”

Notice that the author regards fly fishing as a “spiritual matter.”

This is just one of a dozen or more memorable passages from the book.  Here are a few others:

“My father was very sure about certain matters pertaining to the universe,” MacLean says. “To him, all good things—trout as well as eternal salvation—come by grace and grace comes by art and art does not come easy.”

“As a Scot and a Presbyterian, my father believed that man by nature was a mess and had fallen from an original state of grace. Somehow, I early developed the notion that he had done this by falling from a tree.”

“If our father had had his say, nobody who did not know how to fish would be allowed to disgrace a fish by catching him. So you too will have to approach the art Presbyterian-style, and, if you have never picked up a fly rod before, you will soon find it factually and theologically true that man by nature is in fact a mess.”

And finally, “One great thing about fly fishing is that after a while nothing exists of the world but thoughts about fly fishing.  It is also interesting that thoughts about fishing are often carried on in dialogue from where hope and fear try to outweigh each other.”

Enough of Norman MacLean, for now.  A River Runs Through It is a great book.  Actually, the movie may be even better. I believe I have seen it a dozen times. 

There is something about fishing that brings out the philosopher and the poet in people.  Hemingway was a fisherman, and his first novel, The Old Man and the Sea, was a fish story extraordinaire.  Even William Butler Yeats, the famous Nobel Prize-winning poet, wrote about fishing.

Perhaps it is the melding of the water, the potential for nourishment and the challenge of fighting the fish, armed with nothing more than the lightest of poles and the slimmest of line.  Perhaps it is just the simple fact that fishing has been connected to life for centuries.  Perhaps it is the fact that life emerged from the sea.

Whatever it is, fishing is a primal activity. I am certain that God intended us to fish, and it is not a coincidence that every population center on the planet is close to a body of water.  One could argue, in fact, that fishing is hardwired into our makeup as people. 

Our Gospel lesson this morning is about fishing.  The narrative line is simple. As Luke records it, early in his public ministry Jesus moves to the coast of Lake Gennesaret (a large inland lake also known as the Sea of Galilee) in Capernaum. Here he calls his first disciples (who become his closest friends).

The context of the story indicates that Jesus arrives at the seaside early in the morning, a time of day when the fishermen were cleaning up after a night's fishing.

In the first part of Luke’s story, Jesus enters the boat of Simon Peter and begins to preach to the crowd.  Jesus honors Peter by choosing his boat as the platform for his teaching.  And Peter, having allowed the use of his boat for that purpose, would certainly not have objected to Jesus' next request – to put back out into the deep water and drop his nets once again.  Jesus’ teaching from Peter’s boat, therefore, actually sets up the willingness of Peter and his partners in the second part of the story.

Luke then tells a fish story that turns conventional wisdom upside down. To maximize a catch, fishing was normally done at night when water was cool and the fish would remain in schools. During the day, the fish would see the activity of the boats on the surface and, with the water warming, often scatter or swim away. Jesus defies the conventional wisdom and Peter reluctantly goes along.  “We have been fishing all night,” he tells Jesus, “and we’ve been skunked. Nothing.  Nada.  But if you say so, I will let out the nets, even though it stands to reason that if we caught nothing last night there is little or no chance we will be successful now, in the daytime.”

To say that Peter was surprised at the size of the catch would be an understatement.  It was enough to fill two boats! In the sight of such a miracle, Peter falls on his knees and says “get away from me, Lord, I am a sinful man, not worthy to stand before the one who has the power of God. “

But, after revealing God's power in this way, Jesus turns to Peter and his partners. “Don’t be afraid,” he tells Peter, “from now on, you will be catching people.”

When they hear this, Peter and his fishing partners leave their boats and their livelihoods to follow Jesus.

What does it mean to translate fishing for fish into fishing for people?  What does it mean to apply the metaphor of fishing to the work of the church?  Author and preacher Edward Markquart suggests five qualities of a good fisherman that apply equally to fishers of fish and fishers of people:

The first is attitude. You need to have the right attitude to be an effective fisherman.   It is an infectious attitude, a contagious attitude, a positive attitude. 

The second thing is that it does not take fancy equipment.  Some people have fancy boats and fancy downriggers or fancy graphite rods and reels, but they will all be skunked if they don’t know the fish or if they fish at the wrong time of day or fish in the wrong season or fish in the wrong holes, etc. You need to have some basic, simple equipment to do the job, but it is something that everyone can learn to do.

A third quality of good fishermen and women is knowing where the fish are and what they are biting on. This is very important. There are times and places where the fishing is hot, and you need to be there fishing at those times. 

The fourth quality of a good fisherman or woman is this: you need to set the hook. When fly fishing, you need to set the hook. When fishing with grandpa, when the red bobber pulls down into the water, you need to set the hook. It is an art to setting the hook. Some will pull the bait out too quickly. Often the fish is nibbling on the worm and the child doesn’t get the fish a chance to take the bait, but pulls it up too soon. Or, he waits too long. There is an art to setting the hook. 

Finally, the last quality of a good fisherman or woman is key: the longer you do it, the better you get. If you haven’t been fishing very long, chances are that you are not very good at it. It takes a while, but you keep at it, and pretty soon, you become more experienced and the result will be more fish.

Earlier in the service, we installed our new congregational officers.  Being an officer of the church is a lot like being a fisherman or woman.  More importantly, being a member of the church is like being a fisherman or woman.  It is about fishing for people.

All of us are called to fish for people.  All of us are called to spread the good news.  All of us are called to serve God.  Our officers play leadership roles in that process, but each one of us needs to pick up a rod, or cast a net. 

Remember Peter’s initial reaction to Jesus’ fishing success. He tells Jesus to go away.  Jesus’ success is scary.  It’s intimidating.  Learning to fish for people requires us to surrender to the power of God.  It requires that we defy the conventional wisdom and stop being conservative.  It requires that we expect a miracle.

So, let’s be in prayer for our officers and for our congregation.  Let’s remember that fishing is part of what it means to be a Christian. And let’s not react as Peter did initially and tell Jesus to go away.  Let’s you and I claim Jesus promise and not be afraid of the success that will come to this congregation when we engage, together, in the process of fishing for people.

And like Peter and his partners, let us drop everything and follow Jesus – wherever that leads us.

                                                                                                                        AMEN