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Homily stories

26 Jan 2014 - Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Presbyterian scholar Michael J. Kruger likes to fish. That is a good thing because in a recent online reflection he offers a very important insight: “I have never met a pessimistic fisherman. Sure, there are people who go fishing who are pessimistic. But when it comes to fishermen—people who love to fish and are always eager to fish—they are always defined by an insatiable belief that the very next moment, the very next cast could be the one when they catch the big fish they have been waiting for. . . . Indeed, it is this unexplained optimism that gets fishermen up early in the morning, allows them to endure awful weather and biting mosquitoes, and keeps them out late at night. They continually think: ‘today could be the day.’ After all, why go fishing at all if you have no hope that you will catch something? Fishermen are people of possibility.” It is easy to see the parallels to the “fishing of men” Jesus demands of his disciples. Optimism is essential. As Pope Francis recently noted in Evangelii guadium, “Nobody can go off to battle unless he is fully convinced of victory beforehand.” Keep thoughts of abundant streams and big catches in mind as you spread the joy of the gospel.

Authors Patrice J. Tuohy

Optimism fishers of men fishermen
In other words

07 Feb 2016 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Once when Jesus was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd. When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch. Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon. Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him (from Luke 5). Taken from The Message: Catholic/Ecumenical Edition by Eugene Peterson (ACTA Publications, 2014); actapublications.com; 800-397-2282.

fishermen Simon Peter

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Homily stories

07 Feb 2016 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

There are times we complain that cell phones are controlling our lives and how we would just like to get rid of them. Yet if they control us, it’s because we let them. We decide who we are going to call. And we can turn them off if we desire to do so. On the positive side, they keep parents connected with children, make us feel a little safer driving through the snow at night, let us check on a shut-in, and so much more that we now take for granted. In today’s gospel, Peter is busy doing his fisherman’s work. Jesus calls him, totally unexpectedly, by hopping on his boat. Peter does what Jesus asks, only to be asked to do more, to lower his nets for a catch. Jesus is telling Peter how to do his job. Lots of fish were caught. Peter is confused by it all. He didn’t search Jesus out. Jesus found him. Peter can’t ignore the call or put Jesus on hold. He’s hooked. In the midst of the confusion in life that surrounds us and the noise that envelopes us we need to listen. Jesus is calling us. And it brings us, like Peter, to follow him.

Authors Father Dominic Grassi

fishermen Simon Peter call

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Homily stories

23 Jan 2011 - Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Jesus called Simon and Peter while they were in the middle of their livelihood--fishing. He showed them the deeper dimension to their work and their life by telling them they would now be "fishers of men." Jesus calls us, too, in the middle of our lives. How might we understand that call? If we are students, then we can be searchers for deeper knowledge and truth. If we are salespeople, we can be providers of what satisfies people's deepest needs. If we are parents, we can raise our children to the light of Christ. If we are government employees, we can be workers for justice. If we are in business, we can be people who invite one and all to the banquet, or Good Samaritans, or any number of other images of salvation from the parables that apply to our daily opportunities and challenges.

call fishermen Vocation

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Homily stories

12 Jul 2009 - Fifteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle B

My family and I were on a walk while at my parents’ cottage on a small lake in Southwest Michigan when we got a lesson about life. Around the bend in the lake we met an old couple sitting on rickety lawn chairs fishing. Their equipment consisted of a small, cheap tackle box, a plastic margarine container full of night crawlers, a five-gallon plastic bucket to hold their catch, and two long bamboo poles that carried their lines out beyond the shallows and seaweed. “How’s the fishing?” I asked. “Fantastic,” the man said, nodding to the bucketful of fish thrashing about in the shallow water. Across the road was a much larger lake where a fisherman was calling it quits. He was cranking his expensive bass boat onto his trailer. He wore a vest with about 27 pockets, each bulging with gear. He took six or seven fiberglass rods out of the boat and placed them in the back of his SUV, and then followed suit with two shiny multi-drawered tackle boxes and other gear. “Ain’t no damned fish in this lake,” he snarled as he gunned the engine, pulling his still-dripping boat up the boat ramp and onto the highway. The apostles were sent out into the world with just a single tunic and a walking stick. As fishers of people, despite their lack of fancy gear, they brought in quite a haul.

Authors Tom McGrath

fishermen apostles

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Homily stories

04 Apr 2010 - Solemnity of the Resurrection of the Lord (Easter Sunday), Cycle C

Fishermen will often be out on the lake before dawn, sitting quietly observing how the light filters in and brings clarity to the shoreline, the trees, the horizon. The true meaning of the Resurrection has to “dawn” on us like that—over time—just as it did for the first disciples on the scene on Easter morning. It was still dark when Mary of Magdala arrived. Things became clearer when she returned to the scene with Peter and John and they “entered the empty tomb,” symbolic of following Jesus’ Way of the Cross on its natural progression. Likewise, the two wayward disciples who were walking away from Jerusalem toward Emmaus remained “in the dark” even while Jesus walked beside them talking to them. For them it took experiencing the breaking of the bread on the shore to open their eyes, minds, and hearts. Jesus invites us to be fishers. While it is still dark in our own lives, we follow Jesus’ way and let the light slowly filter in and bring clarity to our hearts.

Resurrection dawn fishermen empty tomb Emmaus

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In other words

10 Feb 2019 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Once when Jesus was standing on the shore of Lake Gennesaret, the crowd was pushing in on him to better hear the word of God. He noticed two boats tied up. The fishermen had just left them and were out scrubbing their nets. He climbed into the boat that was Simon’s and asked him to put out a little from the shore. Sitting there, using the boat for a pulpit, he taught the crowd. When he finished teaching, he said to Simon, “Push out into deep water and let your nets out for a catch.” Simon said, “Master, we’ve been fishing hard all night and haven’t caught even a minnow. But if you say so, I’ll let out the nets.” It was no sooner said than done—a huge haul of fish, straining the nets past capacity. They waved to their partners in the other boat to come help them. They filled both boats, nearly swamping them with the catch. Simon Peter, when he saw it, fell to his knees before Jesus. “Master, leave. I’m a sinner and can’t handle this holiness. Leave me to myself.” When they pulled in that catch of fish, awe overwhelmed Simon and everyone with him. It was the same with James and John, Zebedee’s sons, coworkers with Simon. Jesus said to Simon, “There is nothing to fear. From now on you’ll be fishing for men and women.” They pulled their boats up on the beach, left them, nets and all, and followed him (from Luke 5). From A New Message 4 Next Week (actapublications.com) based on The Message: Catholic/Ecumenical Edition by Eugene Peterson (ACTA Publications, 2013).

fishers of men cast the net fishermen

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Quotes

10 Feb 2019 - Fifth Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle C

Today we still cast the net. And Christ fills it. And Christ calls to conversion [those] who are found “in the depths of the sea,” as the psalm has it (Ps. 69:15), that is to say, among the waves and tempests of the world. —Saint Cyril of Alexandria (c. 377-444) Christ says: Give me this fisherman, this man without education or experience . . . . Although I mean to include senators, orators, or emperors among my recruits, even when I have won over the senator I shall still be surer of the fisherman. —Saint Augustine of Hippo (354-430)

cast the net augustine of hippo fishermen

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Exploring the word

22 Jan 2023 - Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

In these days of heightened political partisanship, our loyalties are always courted and often divided. Do we champion the rights of the unborn over our opposition to wars of aggression? Do we vote to aid the homeless or to leave no child behind? Do we support a just immigration policy or the security of our country’s borders? And why do we have to choose between one good thing and another, as if they were mutually exclusive? When it comes to the matter of faith and politics, most of us at least give lip service to the notion of separation of church and state. We want the government to keep its nose out of our houses of worship. And we’d also prefer that everyone else’s religious ideas be kept out of our government. At the same time, the largest percentage of our fellow citizens also insist that a candidate’s religious convictions are essential components to the kind of leadership he or she will exercise. Handing the reins of power to an atheist, a Mormon, a Jew, or, yes, a Catholic is a serious consideration for most voters. Wanting church and state to stay separate while acknowledging that individuals are and should be influenced by their beliefs in politics above all seems a hopeless muddle. Try as we might, it’s hard to keep our allegiances pure. “I belong to Christ” What did it mean in the first generation of the church to pledge allegiance to Paul, Apollos, Cephas, or Christ? Obviously a basic misunderstanding lay at the bottom of such categories, because the first three at least had already pledged themselves to the fourth. The Corinthians, however, were not known for their ecclesiological brilliance. They found it simpler, perhaps even stylish, to champion their human mentors and to overlook the Lord in whose Body all were members. As a leader, Paul was a great reconciler of opposites and contradictions: Jews and Gentiles, women and men, slaves and those at liberty. He may have appealed to the “tolerance” plank of the Christian party. Apollos, schooled by John the Baptist’s disciples, certainly emphasized the hellfire-and-brimstone repentance platform, which always has its takers. Peter doubtless appealed to centrists, traditionalists, and Jewish Christians who wanted to keep the “Jewish” part of their identity in the forefront. To say “I belong” to any one of these charismatic personalities was to make the politics of your religious position quite lucid. Those who said, “I belong to Christ,” of course, scored the right answer, but not necessarily for the right reasons if they saw Jesus as one candidate among many. Paul insists that these divisions are pointless, wrongheaded, and dangerous. Those who put their faith in any human agent were bound to be disappointed sooner or later. Paul had a terrible temper (just ask the Galatians). Apollos had gaps in his education; he was still baptizing with the formula of John the Baptist until corrected. Peter had a history of impetuous acts and speeches, not all of them Spirit-led. The only name that truly unites church members is the one that is reliable “now until the end of the age.” No divided loyalties How do we signal we belong to Christ? The classic portrait of discipleship is offered along the shores of the Sea of Galilee. Here are two sets of brothers, all fishermen. Peter and Andrew are in the act of casting their nets, beginning the work of the day ahead. John and James are with their father, mending their nets. Perhaps they are just getting off the night shift, or are taking the morning to fix their equipment. All of these folks are involved in familiar routines that benefit their families and keep food on the table. They aren’t wasting time or looking for trouble. They are all presented as responsible, reliable fellows who are just taking care of business. And then Jesus walks by and says something inscrutable to these strangers. He calls to them quite deliberately and says he has work for them. But it’s not fishing as usual. It’s fishing as decidedly unusual: They will be the bait, and they will catch people. And what do these responsible, reliable sets of brothers do? They leave their boats, their nets, and old man Zebedee behind. They walk away “at once” and “immediately.” They don’t discuss the proposal as they eat their lunch or ask for more information concerning Jesus’ proposition and his credentials. They see something in his face, or hear something in his voice, or experience something in his presence that can only be described as authority. You don’t ignore this man, or question him, or argue with him. You accept his offer or you don’t, as is. And you live with the consequences of your choice. Christians in every generation have had this same experience: the call, followed by the instinctive decision to surrender in obedience and to fall in behind Jesus. Paul did it, under the most unlikely of circumstances while pursuing the precise opposite agenda. Saint Francis of Assisi found perfect joy and Lady Poverty when he did it. I talked some years ago with a woman who works as a missionary in Haiti, a very normal and attractive person who used to work for an insurance agency in the States. “I had the car, the clothes, the good salary,” she admits. “And then one day while I was praying, Jesus said to me, ‘I choose you.’ His words were audible, unforgettable. Right after that, I got a call from an organization that had my resume on its desk. I didn’t send it; they got it by inquiring around for a person who spoke English and French and had my skill set. They offered me this position in Haiti. I’ve been there ever since, for almost a decade.” When Jesus makes his proposal, you either accept it or you don’t. Maybe more of us would hear the call if our lives weren’t so cluttered and full of distractions. Applying the word Dispelled is darkness How many today dwell in Isaiah’s “land of gloom,” when a light already shines in the darkness? The preacher’s heart, like the prophet’s, bears the urgency to wake up those who are sleeping and to see humanity’s anguish “take wing” in the light of God’s joyful service. Those who fish for people and those successfully “fished” likewise share the benefit when our allegiances are no longer divided like a pie cut in ever-thinner slices. Being caught is a wonderful thing when it means that you belong entirely now to Jesus. Related scripture links Flaws of the great Christian teachers: Mark 10:28; 14:29-31, 37; Acts 18:24-28; 2 Cor. 11:30-12:10 Now until the end of the age: Matt. 28:20 Catechism links Discipleship: CCC 425-429; 541-542; 618; 787-789; 878; 1816; 1989 Christian joy: CCC 1720-1724

Authors Alice Camille

fishermen peter and andrew john and james call

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Homily stories

22 Jan 2023 - Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, Cycle A

Fishermen figure prominently in today’s gospel, and the fisher motif has been a favorite with religious artists ever since. Art imitates life, the saying goes, but sometimes, it seems, life imitates art. Morris West’s blockbuster novel, The Shoes of the Fisherman, was published in 1963. The Cold War story revolved around a bishop from a country controlled by the former Soviet Union who is elected pope and must confront a complex geopolitical landscape. Tensions and troubles in China threaten to erupt into a world war involving all the superpowers. After declaring the 1968 film version of the story to be one of his favorite movies, President Richard Nixon visited China in 1972, opening up the once isolated country to East-West dialogue. Then in 1978 the College of Cardinals elected as pope a bishop from a Soviet dominated country—Karl Wojtyla of Kraków, Poland, who would become John Paul II. What does it mean to be “fishers of people”? Might it mean to try to live in such a way as to give others pause, to make them curious as to what it is that gives us our strength, or grace, or generosity, or joy, or whatever our particular spiritual gift might be? When we tend to and nourish our spiritual life, we give folks a reason to come a bit closer, to ask us about our faith, and—who knows—perhaps to be captivated by what they find!

Authors Daniel Grippo

fishermen fishers of people

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