The net was heavy and wet in his fingers. Peter felt the knots that were so familiar to his hands and looked down at the wound fibers. He saw the jagged areas, the rips that he had carefully mended. He remembered the time spent each morning washing and cleaning it so that when evening came he would be ready to fish again.
Peter knew how to handle the bulky fishing nets. He understood how to hold them and the way to flick his wrist so the fabric would open fully when thrown into the dark waters of the lake. He even had a pretty good idea about where to release it because that is the place fish would be swarming.
He thought about how the net was a symbol of his responsibilities. The fishing business he worked with his brother Andrew would be a legacy to pass to his own children someday. The net with its shiny hauls of wiggling fish had provided a living for himself and his wife. As long as he had a net, Peter was confident in his ability to sustain his family’s needs.
In some ways, the net was a sense of security for the rough Galilean fisherman. His skill in using it had given him some independence. Instead of finding someone to employ him, Peter had made his own way with his boat. Because fishing was best done at night, he did not have to labor in the sun’s heat as some men did. When conditions were right, Peter fished. When storms whipped the lake’s depths into a fury, he left his nets folded and took the night off.
The net represented Peter’s future. With skill, planning, and a little bit of good luck, the fishing business would provide for him and his family for many years to come. Money tucked away from plenteous seasons would keep him comfortable even if scarcity came to the land. He had even toyed with the idea of purchasing other boats and nets, a fleet of fishing vessels to ensure his prosperity.
These nets had been his life. Peter glanced up from the wet fabric knots in his hand and met the steady gaze of the Man standing before him. Jesus stood there brown eyes glistening with confidence and an easy smile on his face, as if He knew the thoughts crossing Peter’s mind. The invitation to walk away from all the fisherman had known lay heavy in the air between them.
Jesus had come onto the scene in Israel like a Man from another world. His teaching seemed to peel back the layers of tradition and reveal the heart of God Himself. Wonders attended His steps and impossibilities melted at His presence. Peter stood for a long minute with his nets held tightly. How could he give up the familiar, the secure, the responsibility the net represented to follow Jesus? How could he live with the regret if he did not? Glancing over at his brother, Peter gave a quick nod and began folding the fabric quickly. Throwing it into the boat beside them, the brothers stepped out of the waters and into their destiny.
When Jesus invited Peter and Andrew to follow Him, He knew what their commitment would cost them. He also knew that the payout was far greater than the brothers could imagine. They did not know what the road ahead of them looked like, but Jesus did and that was enough.
Jesus said to follow so they did! Laying down the familiar and comfortable, they embraced a new way of life that challenged all they had learned and considered true about God and man. They willingly laid down the security they could have held for themselves and their families and chose to trust God to take care of them. They gave up the nets for a faith that had set its anchor in eternity. Following Jesus, they walked all the way to Calvary and far beyond–casting the net of the gospel as long as they lived. They became fishers of men.
I have often marvelled at the kind of faith these men showed–marvelled and longed for such abandoned trust. You see, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of Him too. He is standing near with His brown eyes confident and His hand outstretched in invitation. He positions Himself near the familiar, comfortable ruts that keep me positioned to take care of my own future and the responsibilities I have carried. He knows my nets are not like Peter’s, but just as surely they keep me in the confines of sensibility and out of the deep places of faith.
I know what society expects of me. I know how to make the common sense decisions that rule out steps of outrageous faith. I can make a plan and fix my busy schedule so that I feel productive. These are familiar roles and expectations. Other may see my job, my position, my reputation, my five-year plan, my retirement, my possessions–but I know well that they are the lesser things.
These things feel like responsibility. They feel like security. They feel like independence, but they are only nets. They are ordinary, comfortable, and convenient. In my spirit, I find myself feeling a dissatisfaction for this lesser life. A restlessness stirs me onward, yearning for the deep places of faith where wonders and revelations wait. I do not know what the path ahead looks like, but Jesus does and that is enough. I choose to follow Him.
Have you felt that stirring inside you lately? Do you yearn for something more in your life? Pray with me.
Lord, we come to You in faith. We offer You our ordinary lives and ask for them to be filled with the extraordinary presence of You. We have decided to follow You, Jesus, no matter what the path looks like. We choose to fold our nets and walk on with You wherever You may lead.
