I have no doubt that if Peter, Andrew, James, and John had been carpenters, Jesus would have said, “Follow me, and I will make you builders of the Church.” Jesus met people on terms to which they could best relate. 

There is something appealing, though, about this image of a fisherman, especially in terms of building the Church, or evangelism. 

I know from spending a chunk of my childhood on the Finley River in the Ozark Mountains that there are many ways to fish. 

My great grandfather would spend hours on end waiting for perch and bluegill to swallow a worm on his hook. I suspect this was relaxing for him. 

Others would use a fly, constantly casting and reeling. It was hard work. 

I have a picture of my great grandfather and his brother using a seine, stretching a net across a river and walking upstream. This method usually yields large catches. 

I’ve never had much luck spear fishing, but I have speared a few frogs with a gig, which is similar. 

My brother was a pretty good “noodler” when he was a boy. To noodle, he stuck his hands underwater, usually near a rock, around which fish hide, and use his wiggling fingers as bait. When the fish bit he would grab it with his hands. 

All these ways of fishing are effective. The same could be said about evevangelism. There are many ways to reach lost souls. 

There is, however, one condition. Before one can be a Fisher of Men, one must first follow Jesus. Walk in His path. Learn from Him. Listen to His Word. Obey His commandments. Grow close to Him. Love Him. One must follow the Way to lead the Way. 

Trust Him.

Fear Not for I will make you fishers of men. 

Jesus always relates to people on their own terms. When speaking to Nicodemus, for example, Christ speaks in deep theological and philosophical terms. When speaking with the Samaritan woman at the well, he talks about water, her social status (or lack thereof) and politics, the things that concern her most. Jesus does the same when calling his disciples; He speaks their language. 

It is early morning and the four fishermen- Peter, Andrew, James, and John – have worked all night, but they are empty handed. Disappointed, they head back to the dock.
A stone’s throw from shore, Jesus calls out to them, “Turn around and head for the deep waters. Then, let down your nets for a catch.”

Okay. Right. Peter looks at Andrew, bewildered. He is tired. He is irritated. He’s not amused.

Andrew smiles and shrugs and turns the boat around  He takes them to the deeps. James and John look at them confused wondering if they should follow in their boat. 

“Why are we listening to this man?” Peter wonders. “He’s a craftsman. What can He teach us about fishing that we haven’t learned already?” He spits in irritation.

“He’s the Messiah,” Andrew reminds him.

“And, the Messiah is to be a great fisherman? Remind me, brother, is it Isaiah or Jeremiah that prophesies this?” Peter laughs. 

Andrew doesn’t. “He healed your mother-in-law, snatched her out of the hands of death.”

“I don’t hold that against Him.” Peter laughs even louder. 

Andrew picks a spot and Peter eagerly drops the net. He’s ready to turn around and get some shuteye. 

When they try to pull in the net, though, they can’t. It is so full of fish that they cannot take it out of the water. Even if the two men could retrieve it, the net would break. The best they can do is keep it taught until James and John row out to help. 

Once pulled in, the catch fills both boats to the point that they nearly sink. “He is the Messiah,” says Peter, almost under his breath. Peter is in awe of Jesus; He’s a miracle-worker. He does know whereof He speaks. As they head back to the dock, trying not to swap the boats, all the things he has heard and seen of Jesus play out in his mind. 

He sees the big picture. The Holy Spirit falling upon Him, like a dove. The voice of God, calling Jesus His beloved Son. He casts out demons. He heals the dying, even his wife’s mother. Two boatloads of fish! This really is the Messiah. He really is The Holy One. 

“And, I am but a fool.” Peter speaks to himself, “a sinner. A doubter. Tossed about in life like my little boat in a great storm.” In a matter of minutes he finds himself unworthy, ticking off every sin that he remembers committing, and realizing that he is far from righteous. 

When he reaches shore, Peter looks in the eyes of Jesus expecting to find righteous judgment and condemnation, but instead finding mercy and compassion. 

Peter falls at the feet of Jesus. He is exhausted. Defeated. Discouraged. A filthy sinner. Unworthy. “Leave, Master. Just leave. You are holy. I am a sinful man. I have no place in Your presence.”

“Do not be afraid,” says Jesus. “From this day on, you will catch men.”

When confronted with the purity and holiness of God, our sins are revealed. Even what we count as righteous and good in our lives, appear as darkness, shameful in the light of God’s holiness. All we can do is fall at His feet and plea for mercy in fear of God. 

With love in His eyes, He freely extends mercy to poor sinners like us, if we confess our sin and turn away from it. 

Fear Not, for I will make you fishers of men. 

Of all the daily devotions on the topic of fear, this one has been, perhaps, the most difficult to write. Words hurt. Words hurt me. 

In spite of what they teach us in preschool – “sticks and stones” – words will ever hurt you. That is why someone came up with the old adage in the first place; victims of name-calling and verbal abuse are sometimes harmed for life. 

I was one of those kids who feared words. I was painfully shy and insecure, convinced that I was inferior, or even worthless. I hated when someone called me names, for I was convinced they were right, and I feared the truth. In some ways, I still fear words. 

So, I wondered, how can I write this if I still feared words myself?

How? The answer is right there in the passage. Our enemies are mere mortals, and our God is not. When we fear God more than we fear man, we really have nothing at all to fear. God is our protector. Our defender. 

Fear Not, for we know what is right.