The right angle

A homily for the Third Sunday in Ordinary Time, January 22, 2023

Is 8:23—9:3, 1 Cor 1:10-13, 17, Mt 4:12-23

There are a couple of ways to go fishing, and each is vastly different from the other, but in the end, both catch fish.

One method, which the Apostles used in their day jobs, and which modern commercial fishermen still use, drags a net through the water, catching fish by the boatloads. The crew then usually dumps the entire catch onto the deck of the boat and culls out any unsuitable fish or trash. If it’s a responsible crew, they toss the undersized fish or unwanted species back into the water, and head for home with what they kept.

A mass catch.

Another method, pretty much the other main method, involves a rod and reel, bait or lures, and a skillful solo angler. The fisherman casts into what he hopes is a school of fish and reels them in one at a time. If he knows what he is doing, he’ll reel in only the type of fish he wants, at the right size. After a good day fishing, the angler takes home a freezer’s worth of bass.

A selective catch.

In my last job before retirement, I had the joy of working with a gent whose fondest dream is to fish every day after his retirement. Now, to be sure, he is a devoted family man, and his house, car and truck are in pristine condition because he continually maintains them. And he’s passed his work ethic and passions along to his son, who likewise likes fishing.

But when John’s must-do tasks are completed, and completed well, he pits himself and his gear against fish whose instincts and innate intelligence resist his best efforts toward eventually filleting them. And he looks forward to having much more time to devote to his passion.

Jesus must have seen a similar passion in the men he chose to be his closest followers. Jesus knew their technique and skill at hauling in large catches would pay dividends as he and they worked to bring the Kingdom of God to Earth.

He knew their technique and skill would pay dividends in their ministry as fishers of men (please forgive gender-specific term; it works better, literary-wise).

Hauling in large catches of people, though, poses a challenge much as hauling in large catches of fish does.

What — or, in this case, whom — do you throw back?

Jesus came to bring the Good News to everyone. His death and resurrection reestablished the relationship between God and God’s people, every man, woman and child who ever lived or will ever live. Jesus said as much.

So it would seem that no one should be thrown back. And our God Who Is Love, our God of infinite mercy and forgiveness challenges us imperfect creatures to follow that example. Judge not lest we be judged. Cast the first stone only if we are without sin, without blame.

Some people do choose to jump out of the figurative boat themselves, to reject the invitation to be in communion with God and with God’s people. They reject the notion that God has a plan for them, and that plan is for their eternal salvation and, if possible, for a joyful life on Earth.

Some people elude the net. Some people were never near where the net was cast. Millions and perhaps billions of our sisters and brothers have not been introduced to our Triune God, and through the circumstances of their lives may never be.

All of these factors seem to weigh against casting a big net, because we, too, are called to be fishers of men.

We’re called to bring all of humankind to unity with Our Lord lovingly and effectively.

Selectively. But not exclusively. Not excluding-ly. But frequently one at a time.

Like a skilled angler, we’re called to offer people whom God sends into our lives something that, at first, attracts them. Intrigues them. Lures them. In only the most charitable and respectful way.

No tricks or gimmicks. No bait-and-switch.

Our lives, lived well, often serve that purpose.

Other people who see or otherwise sense that we belong to God through Jesus, graced by the Spirit, may open themselves to that same grace and Spirit.

We can tell them about who we are and why we do what we do. Why we believe what we believe. Why our faith is at the center of our lives.

And if their hearts are open, there’s a good chance they will join us and our loving God in the boat.

Please share

Published by

Bill Zapcic

Husband. Father. Brother. Friend. Journalist and consultant. Roman Catholic deacon. Lover of humanity. Weekly homilist and occasional photographer. Theme images courtesy of Unsplash.com.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *