Often, on Saturday mornings in Burundi, I would go to the beach to play volleyball. Yes, it seems strange to use the word beach for a land-locked country in the middle of Africa. Thanks to the world's second largest lake in terms of water volume, Lake Tanganyika, this is entirely possible.
One particular morning a group of fishermen had decided to cast their net off the coast. The net measured at least a half mile in length and floated up and down for about an hour before the band of men decided to pull it back in. This was the first time that I had seen fishermen fishing from the coast. I watched with intrigue. Four men on each side of the rope pulled this massive net back towards shore. As the pulled they sang. Beautiful fishing choruses in Kirundi with every muscle in their backs and arms straining to keep the net moving in the right direction.
Several members of the volleyball game lost interest in the fishermen after some time and resumed play. Still the fishermen pulled in the net. The sun came out with Central African intensity and the sweat streamed down our faces. Still the men pulled.
We bumped, set, spiked, and dove through the sand chasing the ball. Still the men pulled their net.
An hour passed. An hour and a half. Two hours. Still the men pulled.
I began to think that this must be the never ending fishing net stretching all the way to the Tanzanian border. Finally, as the net neared the shore, we could see a ring of silver glittering in the sun. Fish flopping in the net in the shallow waters. A few minutes of more back breaking labor and finally the nets were landed for all to see. There were big fish, small fish, silver fish, and dark fish.
The fishermen were exhausted but extremely elated to have finally completed their day's labor. Eight grown men would now divide the spoils by selling the fish in the central market. Yet, I felt sad for them. There really weren't that many fish in the net. It was a good catch, but not what I would expect from 8 men and a net longer than anything I had ever seen. In fact, I seriously doubt whether the net profit on this venture would be worth their efforts.
Lots of hard work. Minimal return.
It reminds me of the story of Peter. If anybody knows fish it's Peter. This is his livelihood. This is where Christ first found him. This is his first love. And yet, this is also his place of greatest failure. Not only has he denied Jesus and failed in the realm of being a fisher of men, but he has no failed in the one thing he knew best- fish. All night long at his nets trolling the waters without so much as a single fish to show for his trouble.
Then Christ shows up on the shore.
"Have you guys caught anything?"
Oh great. Just what we need. A sideline commentator pointing out our already glaring deficiency.
Nope. Nothing at all.
"Try casting on the other side."
Sure. A sideline commentator now giving directives. We've fished all night long up and down these waters. Just who do you think you are?
"Peter. It's the Lord."
And in that moment I think Peter realized something he would never forget. Without Jesus even the things that he thought he knew best are doomed to failure. Peter needed Jesus. He and He alone was His sufficiency. His voice would provide the direction. And in that moment Peter not only recovered his joy in fishing, but his calling to fish. He would lean on Jesus in total dependency. And Jesus would bring in a great harvest of fish. 153 that day. Some 3000 a few days later after Holy Spirit burned a divine fire into his soul.
Jesus is enough. Better said, Jesus is more than enough. And when we listen and obey our lives will produce a harvest.
John 15:5 "Without me you can do nothing." Oh so humbling. Oh so freeing.
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