The following column first appeared in the July 20, 2002, issue of Arkansas Catholic.
I have no doubt that St. Peter’s skills as a fisherman were much greater than mine, even though I bear his name. But last week, whether by sheer luck, weather or water temperature, I had several successful days of fishing on a small lake in Mississippi. I’m one of those who declare that fishing is fun even when you don’t catch anything; my fishing buddies claim I have to say that to justify being on the water. I’ll admit that my skills rarely compensate for uncooperative fish, but it is true that I simply enjoy being outside and fishing, whether or not I catch a big one.
Several months ago, I celebrated Mass at All Saints Church in Mount Ida, near Lake Ouachita, a beautiful recreational spot in central Arkansas. In my homily I spoke of a long-ago fishing expedition with a group of friends, all of whom were accustomed to being “in charge” in daily life. Since we were fishing for salmon, we needed guides. “It’s hard for guys who are used to being in charge to surrender control to a guide,” I said. “When you’re fishing with a group like that,” I asked rhetorically, “who’s in charge?” “The fish!” answered a woman in the congregation. We all had a good laugh. Of course, she was absolutely right. The fish are always in charge.
In his encyclical Novo Millennio Ineunte, Pope John Paul II invites us to “put out into the deep.” He is referring to St. Luke’s account of an unsuccessful night of fishing by Peter and his companions, after which Jesus invites them to cast their nets one more time: “Put out into deep water and lower your nets for a catch.” (Luke 5:4 ff) “Master, we have worked hard all night and have caught nothing,” whines Peter. “But at your command, I will lower the nets.” They hauled in a catch so huge that their nets were at the breaking point. Peter and his friends had been relying on their wit and experience; faced with failure, they had given up. Everything changed, however, when they surrendered to the command of the Lord — “Put out into deep water.”
The Holy Father’s image is a beautiful and practical one. Discipleship is a continuous act of trust in the Lord Jesus, a progressive handing over of our decisions, skills, attitudes and expectations to his Word, his command. God’s sights are always set on a much bigger catch than ours are.
On a large scale, the Church is called to cast its net unceasingly in every place and time, even against all odds, in the deepest and murkiest of waters, trusting that the proclamation of the Word will “catch” those who hunger for salvation. There is a close similarity here to Jesus’ parable of the farmer who sows seed by flinging it with reckless abandon on rocks, footpaths, sand and rich soil. Nets are cast far and wide, whether or not fish are evident; seed is sown indiscriminately, whether the ground is fertile or barren. The point is, God is at work. As disciples and ministers, we cede control to God –otherwise, we risk abandoning the unyielding water, retreating in fear, rationing his gifts, or falsely attributing his success to ourselves.
On a personal scale, we are to allow ourselves to be guided in all things by the Word of the Lord. The Christian life is not a relay race, in which God is merely our partner — in other words, we do not hand him the baton when we tire, only to take it up again when refreshed. Christian life is the way of surrender to the One who carries us on wings of eagles, on shoulders of shepherds, in arms of doting mothers, in caravans of camels. It is surrender to the One who invites us to trust in his power to do the unexpected and impossible. Put out into the deep, even if all seems lost, says the Lord. God uses our talents, to be sure, but only by surrender do we discover his love and power. Only by surrender do we become his disciples and instruments.
When we approach God in prayer, particularly when we perceive ourselves to be deep in waters of distress, do we “point out” to him our need for help but retain tight control? Or do we hand over our worries to him, relinquishing control to his loving providence? That can be a frightening prospect, but it is the only way to discover the power of grace.
I have been mixing metaphors in this column — fishing, farming and running. But isn’t that exactly what the Bible does? God uses whatever it takes to catch our fancy, to make an impression, to draw us into his embrace. In a sense, isn’t the goal of the Incarnation to lure us, through Christ, into intimacy with our heavenly Father?
Fishing, farming or running, the whole point is to be “caught” by God. He delights in fishing in both the deep and the shallows, farming in all kinds of terrain, carrying us in the race all the way to the finish line. Whatever it takes, he longs for us to surrender to the lure of his friendship. I hope I’m as cooperative with the Lord as the fish were with me last week.
Do you have an intention for Bishop Sartain’s prayer? If so, send it to him at Bishop Sartain’s Prayer List, Diocese of Little Rock, 2500 North Tyler St., P.O. Box 7239, Little Rock, AR 72217.
