Fishing Season

A reflection on Sunday’s gospel: Mark 6:7-13, The Mission of the Seventy-Two

Second only to each of the births of his seven children, there was no day more anticipated by my father than the first day of fishing season. And, while, on any given pre-dawn Sunday, you’d find my dad fishing, anywhere, anytime, for any type of fish, his preference was fly fishing.

Now, apparently, fly fishing isn’t like any other kind of fishing. Unfortunately, I can’t exactly appreciate the intricacies— (it was the old “girl + bait = ewwwwwww” thing), but those who do, will please pardon my feeble attempt here to make the most of the metaphor.

According to my father, to be an honest-to-goodness, card-carrying , hip-wading angler, you had to be able to tie your own flies. In this Sunday’s scripture, we hear: “The Lord appointed seventy-two others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go.” Jesus isn’t interested in clinging to this mission as if he’s the only person who can carry it out. He entrusts to the seventy-two what he shared with the Twelve, his mission of proclaiming God’s reign through word and action. I have to admit that I can easily dismiss this aspect of my life as a Christian. It’s so easy for me to say “I’ll let God take care of ‘that’” when, in fact, God actually chose me to be the instrument of “taking care of ‘that.’” People can’t possibly come to know that they are loved and valuable and necessary to the establishment of God’s reign if I don’t live it with them in my relationships with them. One of the foundational principles of effective ministry is that it multiplies itself. Even though it’s not recorded in the scriptures as one of Jesus’ miracles, I think that it ought to be—that we are the agents (St. Paul calls us “ambassadors”) of God’s life and love in the world. As agents and ambassadors, we need to know how to do our job well—to tie our own flies. So much of our misunderstanding of stewardship seems to fall under the category of “raising funds.” I propose that we need to focus on the stewardship of personal and spiritual gifts—that’s where the Holy Spirit’s inspiration resides, where hearts are touched and people are moved to serve. So a question I ask myself as a card-carrying, bible-toting, baptized and engaged Catholic Christian is: Am I learning the tools and developing my gifts to be an authentic witness of Jesus’ vision of God’s reign, his mission of healing and reconciliation, and ministry of service in order to empower and inspire others?

According to my father, you have to choose just the right fly. Jesus says, “Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals;” Jesus counsels those embarking on this mission to travel lightly -- this is no vacation. One can imagine that the most useful item the seventy-two will carry with them is their own unadorned personal stories of their encounters with Jesus told with conviction and passion. So, I am working on becoming a storyteller; after all, wasn’t Jesus the master storyteller? Note to self: stop being so “academic” and learn to be vulnerable enough to tell the story of how God is bringing me to healing, wholeness and grace.

According to my father, you have to approach the river correctly so as not to scare away the fish. Jesus says, “Whatever house you enter, first say, “Peace to this house!” To pronounce peace upon a household is to value, honor and respect all who dwell there. Now, there’s no guarantee that those we wish to engage in deeper discipleship will respond positively. That doesn’t and shouldn’t derail our primary objective which is to witness to peace – to the whole of God’s reign of justice and compassion. Being an effective ambassador requires that we spend time with folks on their turf. There’s a terrific old saying in youth ministry circles: you have to earn the right to be heard. We can only do that by being present to and with people where they are, no matter what their circumstances, hurts, and challenges are. Peace is the result of loving others—of living in and for God’s reign in imitation of Christ.

According to my father, you may have to cast twenty-five times before a fish will take the bait. Jesus says, “Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house.” This mission is about hospitality, not having others indebted to us. It’s about solidarity, not charity. It requires that we remain in the same place with others and share life together in a spirit of mutuality and partnership and collaboration. In the book of Jeremiah, the prophet says something like, “Stop wearing your shoes out.” Being an ambassador means being present to people for the long haul.

According to my father, when you finally allow your bait to light upon the water for the fish to strike, you have to make the right kind of “splash” otherwise, the fish will not respond. Jesus, says, “When you get there...eat whatever is set before you; cure the sick; say to them “the kingdom of God has come near to you.” Eat. Cure. Say. Three tangible, measurable goals: Eating implies that there’s a give and take—a dialogue, a conversation where one can know and be known. This is a call to be gracious; be thankful—Eucharistic even, if you will. Cure. Be a healing presence to broken hearts and shattered dreams. Be the peacebringer and peacemaker. Say. Make the pronouncement of God’s personal interest in another’s life. God’s reign is here no matter how fragmentary. And it’s available to all. Be the prophet of hope in a cynical world. So, what kind of splash am I making?

According to my father, you have to cast the line just “so” in order to mimic the actual flight pattern of flying insects. Just like most people, fish can tell a fake from the genuine article from a mile away. How do others know I’m the genuine article? Only if I’m engaged in the very same, very personal ministry that Jesus engaged in: eating with sinners and outcasts, curing the sick and broken-hearted, and unleashing hope in the reachable reign of the God of Jesus. The goal of my life is to move into more perfect imitation of Christ.

When I’m feeling old and tired and inadequate to the task of being an authentic Catholic Christian, I remember what a relative said about my dad at his funeral. Something that meant and still means a great deal to me. She said, “I take great comfort in knowing how much Jesus loved fishermen.”

The views expressed in this blog are mine alone and do not necessarily reflect the views of my employer.