For as long as I can remember, whenever I’ve come to today’s gospel (Luke 5:1-11) my focus has always been on the great catch of fish – two boatloads of fish. That’s a lot of fish – so many fish the nets were beginning to break, so many fish the boats began to sink.
Simon and the others have just won the Lake Gennesaret Lottery. They weren’t just fishing, they were catching. They now have plenty of food, money, security, maybe even some additional respect, power, or prestige. Their lives are full.

For the longest time that was the good news of today’s gospel, a guaranteed catch with Jesus. Who doesn’t want to limit out?
My focus on the great catch of fish probably says more about me than the gospel. I’ve wanted a two boatload life. I’ve worked to create a two boatload life. I’ve prayed to the two boatload Jesus.
Maybe you know what that’s like. What does a two boatload life mean to you? Have you ever worked or prayed for that? And what was that about? What empty nets were you trying to fill up and what were you trying to fill them with? In what ways are you seeking a two boatload life today?
Sometimes I still want a two boatload life. But more and more something about that seems to me, well, fishy. Something doesn’t smell right. It’s not that I don’t think we should have plenty of food, money, or security. God knows the world doesn’t need more hunger, poverty, or violence. It’s not that I don’t think God provides and we rely on that provision, I experience God’s provision every day. And I’m not trying to create some false or artificial distinction between everyday life and the spiritual life. There’s just life.
So here’s what I’m wondering: What if today’s gospel isn’t even about the fish? What if it’s about so much more than two boatloads of fish? What if it’s an invitation to live more fully alive, with a larger worldview, and deeper engagement with others? What if it’s about letting our hearts be caught and captivated by something larger than and beyond ourselves?
Here’s why I ask those questions. Do you remember what Simon and the others did after they brought their two boatloads of fish to shore? They walked away from them. That just seems crazy, doesn’t it?
“They left everything and followed [Jesus].”
That’s not a rejection of the fish but the recognition of a deeper hunger, a hunger that could never be satisfied by fish.
Something about Jesus had caught and captivated their hearts and “they left everything and followed him.” The obvious question in that is, What do you need to let go of and leave? But I want to flip that question and ask it in a different and perhaps better way: What are you holding on to and what is it giving you?
Think about all the things we hold on to. It’s not just stuff, though most of us have plenty of that in our garage, closets, or shed. We sometimes hold on to beliefs, opinions, and attitudes, grudges and resentments, fear, old wounds and hurt feelings, the way things used to be, guilt or shame, biases and judgments, comfort and familiarity, illusions and self-deceptions, broken promises and disappointments. What else would you add to that list?
I know that we also hold on to people we love and relationships that matter, joys and gratitudes, faith and hope, our values and integrity, meaning and purpose, and all that is good, true, and beautiful.
So what are you holding on to these days? What to hold on to and what to let go of is always the question. Both have consequences and the choice is always before us.
So let me ask you this:
- Is whatever it is you are holding on to growing your life and making you more wholehearted or is it diminishing your life and keeping you stuck?
- Is it connecting you to others or is it isolating you?
- It is softening and enlarging your heart or is it hardening and constricting your heart?
- Is it benefitting the world or is it adding to the pain of the world?
I don’t know what questions Simon and the others were asking themselves before they left everything, but I know this: They refused to settle for a two boatload life. But what if they had settled? What do you imagine would have happened if they had held on to the fish and stayed? Have you ever thought about that?
I suspect they would have eaten well, invited friends over for supper, not worried about their bills, bought some new things, and taken time off from work – at least for a while. One day, however, the fish would run out and when they did Simon and the others would return to the same lake, in the same boats, with the same nets, and do the same thing they did the day before their big catch. Not much would have changed.
Simon would have always been Simon. He never would have known what it was like to have his life transformed, become a new man, or be called Peter.
When Simon and the others left their two boatload life they weren’t just walking away from fish. They were stepping forward into a new and different life. They had bigger fish to fry. They didn’t know where it would take them any more than you or I know where our lives will take us. But that is not a reason to not trust the mystery and unfolding of our lives.
Sometimes we hold on to the wrong thing, not because it will come to fruition by further effort, more fishing, but because we cannot let go of the story we tell ourselves. (David Whyte, Consolations, 238) “I’m just a fisherman/fisherwoman and that’s all I’ll ever be.” “I don’t know where I’m going or what will happen and I’m scared.” “I’d rather settle than risk.” I’m not worth the effort.” “It’s always been like this and always will be.” “What difference can I make?” “It’s not that bad. I’ve got a good enough life.” “What will he or she think or say about me?”
Simon and the others could have said any one of those things or a thousand others like them. I have, haven’t you?
Regardless of the stories we might tell ourselves, there are moments in each of our lives when we hear our life grumbling with a deep hunger, when we feel our heart being reeled in, caught and captivated by a love and life bigger than we could have ever imagined, something larger than and beyond ourselves.
You know what that’s like, right? Maybe it was the day you fell in love, the birth of your child or grandchild, the day your started to get your life turned around, when you discovered a deep and driving purpose for your life, when you were overwhelmed by beauty and all you could say was, “Yes, thank you.”
Maybe you’re hearing that grumble and feeling that tug today.
Whenever and in whatever ways that moment comes there is only one thing to do. I don’t have to tell you what that is, you already know. You’ve always known. The only question is, Will you do it?
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Image Credit: Photo by Jakub Kapusnak on Unsplash.

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