PHOTOS, FISHING, AND FAITH

Tú has venido a la orilla
No has buscado ni a sabios ni a ricos
Tan sólo quieres que yo te siga
 
Señor, me has mirado a los ojos
Sonriendo, has dicho mi nombre
En la arena, he dejado mi barca
Junto a ti, buscaré otro mar

[Cesáreo Gabaráin]

I had lunch with a friend up in Akron last Wednesday and afterwards went out on my favorite adventure these days – searching for the perfect photo.

I’m determined that in retirement I want to improve my photography skills. So, at every opportunity, I look to capture that picture that is worth more than a thousand words.

The best birthday present I received this year was a book from my wife titled The Advanced Photography Guide: Expert Techniques to Take Your Digital Photography to the Next Level. You can rest assured that I will be leafing through those pages often over the next several weeks.

My quest on this particular day took me to the Portage Lakes State Park just south of Akron. It was a gray overcast afternoon, supposedly ideal for taking photos because of the lack of shadows. But it was also chilly. Honestly, nothing stirred me…until I saw this one solitary figure in a boat with a fishing pole. (See feature image above)

This man became my singular focus. He stood up in his small boat and cast his line a few times as I clicked away…over eighty times! That’s the joy of digital photos; you don’t have to worry about film.

It was only afterwards that I wondered whether he was curious or, for that matter, even noticed my incessant attention to him. We each were intensely absorbed on that which was important to us – his fishing and my photography.

Fishermen have fascinated me for quite some time.

It’s one thing to spend a lazy summer afternoon on a boat or on the shore of a body of water waiting to hook an unsuspecting fish on your line. But a chilly and windy fall day is a different story. I don’t get it!

But it makes for nice pictures.

The two most noteworthy in my collection are the one seen here and the one up above. I imagine neither of my subjects cared that they were posing for my camera. I did wonder, however, whether they were fishing for pleasure or out of necessity.

Not long after I arrived at the second congregation I served, a group of men in this congregation casually asked me whether or not I fished.  Immediately I admitted, much to their disappointment, that I did not—at least not for fish. 

I admire fishermen, but although I consider myself a patient person, I do not have the patience to sit in a boat or on a dock or a shore holding a fishing rod waiting for a fish to bite the bait and the hook on the end of the line.

Fortunately for me, my lack of knowledge or interest in fishing didn’t damage my reputation, but my credibility may have taken a dive, given that there were quite a lot of fishermen among them.

I recall fondly that every Sunday morning, at the end of worship, I would stand at the entrance to greet parishioners. And nearly every Sunday, one of those avid fishermen, named Don, would shake my hand and say, “We’re going to get you out on the boat and go fishing one of these days.” (Or words to that effect.)

Once in a while Don would recruit someone else to chime in with him. Sadly, he never got his wish.

Despite my lack of enthusiasm for fishing, my favorite hymn has to do with fishing.

It’s original title in Spanish is “Pescador de hombres,” translated as “You Have Come Down to the Lakeshore.”

The first verse and chorus in English are as follows:

You have come down to the lakeshore
seeking neither the wise nor the wealthy,
but only asking for me to follow.

Refrain:
Sweet Lord, you have looked into my eyes;
kindly smiling, you’ve called out my name.
On the sand I have abandoned my small boat;
now with you, I will seek other seas.

(Evangelical Lutheran Worship #817)

Although this English translation by Madeleine Forell Marshall (there are several others) corresponds closely to the Spanish, I frankly find the Spanish text more lyrical. Nevertheless, its popularity is acknowledged by the fact that the hymn has been translated into more than eighty different languages. The Polish translation (“Barka”) was, by the way, the favorite Spanish hymn of Pope John Paul II, of blessed memory.

The song is based on Jesus’ call to the disciples as found in the gospels. We hear it most often during the Epiphany season when the reading comes up in the lectionary.

Jesus calls his first disciples with the words, “Follow me and I will make you fish for people.”
(Matthew 4:19 NRSV)

For those of us who seek to follow Jesus today, this is an important reminder that we are to be about people.

Those first disciples were fishermen who spend long nights around fish.  They searched for them.  They worked hard for them.

And even though Jesus’ call might have seemed like less physical labor, it required the same amount of devotion and dedication.

We who follow Jesus today are called to be no less connected with people and reach out to people with the good news of God’s grace, compassion, and love.

It’s been more than two-thousand years, and still, there are some who have yet to experience God’s transforming love in their lives.

When we fish for people with that transformational message, we can picture a world of compassion and kindness, where we can walk in love as Christ loves us.

I can’t think of a better way to end this reflection than with a video of “You Have Come Down to the Lakeshore,” in English, to hopefully start you off on a pleasant, peaceful, and picture-perfect day.

God’s Blessings!