There’s a startling component to Luke’s narrative of Jesus and his love when he describes a scene on the shore of the Lake of Gennesaret (Luke 5:1-11). Jesus sees a couple of boats and some fishermen washing their nets. Because a large crowd is pressing him, he asks the men to row him offshore a bit so he can address the eager audience. His sermon over, he tells Simon, whose boat had been his pulpit, to row out and try his luck at fishing. Against his better judgment, Simon, who’s caught nothing all night, follows instructions and—voila!—his luck changes in spades. It’s a miracle! His net becomes filled to overflowing with fish that had eluded him all night.
That’s good news indeed, and more than the fisherman could have hoped for. But Simon has no time to wonder at it all. With blessings come problems that call for immediate attention. His net starts to break under the weight of the madly squirming fish. To make matters worse, his boat is threatening to go under. He has breaking and sinking to deal with. Are his blessings about to become curses?
One wonders how Jesus is taking this in. He’s in the sinking boat, after all. Is he thinking that perhaps he’s gone a little overboard with his largesse? Is he still unsure of how to balance his humanity with his divinity? Or is he, by mixing blessings with alarm, teaching the fishermen—and all who read of their adventure ever after—an important life lesson? What kind of blessing is it that causes breaking and sinking?
Maybe breaking and sinking were nothing more than a dramatic way for Luke to illustrate just how great the catch of fish was, the magnitude of the miracle, and the amazing, superhuman power invested in the Son of Man. The catch of fish did not seem to be an answer to prayer, after all—though we’re not told whether the weary disciples had raised heaven-directed pleas during that unproductive night.
I don’t know what to make of it. I can’t shake off the incongruity of what’s happening to the Galilean fishermen who, after a humdrum night of casting and recasting their nets, have become the recipients of a blessing so immense that their nets tear and their boat is about to sink. It’s a blessing that threatens to ruin them. What kind of blessing is that? We’re not told how or even whether they managed to save the catch and the boat. Maybe they did or maybe they didn’t. What matters, I suppose, is that Jesus got their attention and their fealty (v. 11).
After Jesus had finished his mission on earth, he once more advised his disciples to cast a net after they had caught nothing all night (John 21:1-11). Again there was a miraculous catch, but this time the net did not break. Could it be that because of what Jesus has accomplished on Golgotha we no longer have to worry about breaking and sinking?
About the Author
Hank Ottens is a retired orthopedic surgeon and an active gardener, photographer, and singer. He attends Second Christian Reformed Church in Grand Haven, Mich.
