It is my assumption that fishing is popular. Wildly popular.
Here’s some proof I’ve noticed: One-a lot of various types of people are involved…regularly. Two-a casual walk through Cabellas or Bass Pro would seem to indicate that a major part of their merchandise has everything to do with fishing. And I don’t know if you are aware, but they seem to do a good business. Three-it does not seem to matter what your economic condition is, people who fish seem willing to spend a fair amount of money (even though in its fledgling beginnings artists renderings of prehistoric fishing showed only a string, hook, and bait flung into the water from a land anchored rock). Shows that fishing is a priority.
I’ll be clear…I have had no burning desire to fish. I get bored reasonably quick. I am not sure that my OCD-ness allows a natural inclination toward handling a slippery fish…much less whatever variety of bait may be required. I’ve also not developed any taste buds with sensitivity favorable to eating fish. I’m not even going to discuss cleaning one of these bloody scale and bone infused creatures.
But lately, I’ve found myself pondering the idea of pursuing a career as a fisherman. But I’m fighting it with every fiber of my clean hands and underwater-averse being. But…my son fishes. I mean to say, he really loves to snag himself dinner or at least an excuse to concoct a great story regarding “the one that got away!” And here’s the nagging push for me to fish: I really love my son and spending time with him. And besides, I feel guilty that I failed to introduce him to the “sport” and am battling a growing sense of guilt.
Just to review. Fishing is expensive, slimy, boring (sorry), abhorrent to my taste buds, time abuser, and boring. Did I already say that? That’s because it is doubly boring. So the physical aspects and the competitive nature of it is mostly unappealing to me.
Maybe I need to discover the “art of fishing!” It seems to hold a fair amount of passion for those who indulge in its virtues. Even the equipment seems to get stroked and cared for as it is ceremoniously given its own space in a box with a name that makes no sense what-so-ever: “Tackle.”
Fishing even has lore attached to its epic draw. The elaborate stories that are told with an eye glimmer and the frequent wink. Voices and the volume of laughter seems to increase as each subsequent tale is regaled at the tradition debrief session at the local tavern. And who hasn’t read Moby Dick?
And so I have spent a bit of time seeking the validity of this as a worthy endeavor for me to acquire. In my pondering, I found myself thinking of Jesus, the stepson of Joseph, a carpenter who found himself raising the Son of God! Jesus, when he left the carpenters shop to fulfill his mission as Savior and Redeemer, in seeking disciples to mentor…found and chose 12 men, seven of which were card-carrying members of the local fishermen union of Galilee. That’s roughly 60% of His original twelve!
That hardly seems accidental! Do your own study with a Bible Concordance (looking up any form of the reference “fish”). I can assure you…Jesus was a Master Fisherman! And used a lot of fishing references in His parcels of wisdom offered to His followers. I’m going to go out on a limb here…but I feel confident in suggesting that fishermen may have a distinct advantage in their relationship with Jesus!
Could an outline of fishing really be a seminary class on knowing the Savior? A tutorial on discipleship? Lessons from a boat regarding facing life’s storms? A blueprint for being an all-in fisher of men and women for Christ?
I’ve not yet fully developed the idea that prayer-like discussions with God would seem natural when you are immersed in His Creation! Talk about an in-your-face and in-your-head quiet time of devotion with the punctuation of the sudden hooking of a huge walleye or the snagging of a fresh water trout.
Maybe Jesus meets fishermen where they live…in the moment…in the boat. A special relationship between two fishing “efficianos” ( pardon the pun that includes a probable made up word or, at the very least a misspelled word).
What better place to be present-inthemoment than in a boat…with Jesus? “Google…where is Cabellas closest to me?”