After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, ‘I am going fishing.’ They said to him, ‘We will go with you.’ They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, ‘Children, you have no fish, have you?’ They answered him, ‘No.’ He said to them, ‘Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.’ So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, ‘It is the Lord!’ When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the lake. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, ‘Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.’ So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, ‘Come and have breakfast.’ Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ because they knew it was the Lord.
--John 21:1-12, NRSV
In the recent motion picture release “The Guardian,” Kevin Costner plays Ben Randall, a living legend in the Coast Guard’s elite team of rescue swimmers. In the midst of the worst storms and conditions, Randall and his crew will go out in their helicopter, jump 20 feet into freezing water and miraculously pluck the victims of wrecks, capsized boats and ship fires from what would otherwise be certain death.
In the academy where these selfless rescue teams are trained, Costner’s aging character holds the school’s every record, but a young recruit, Jake Fisher (played by Ashton Kutcher), is bent on replacing Ben Randall’s name on the record boards. One record though, is not posted anywhere, and is only spoken of in hushed voices: the number of lives Randall has saved in his amazing career. Some say it’s 200; others say 300; no one seems to know for sure.
At one point early in the film, Randall’s friend and fellow crew member suggests it may be time for them to retire. “And do what?” Randall asks.
“We could go fishing,”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Randall replies as they go off to sea, to dangle their line into the swelling waves in order to haul a new day’s catch of human lives into their vessel.
Let’s go back 2,000 years to the shores of the Sea of Galilee, Peter, Andrew, James, John and some other disciples decide that, in the face of the turmoil around Jesus’ death, empty tombs and all the rest, it is a good time to go fishing. Remember: When Jesus called those four, they were by the sea mending their nets. It seems finding those nets they left behind might not be a bad career move. The nets are a key ingredient in their livelihood: letting them down off one side of the boat in a certain way, then rowing in a circular motion. Next the nets are pulled in to determine if the fishing is successful. Many times, the answer to that question means survival or devastation for the fisher’s family.
So these confused and dazed disciples have been at it all night, and they haven’t caught so much as a mackerel. Just great. Everything is in chaos, and now even their nets aren’t working anymore. Suddenly a figure calls to them from the shore, asking if they have caught any fish. Talk about adding insult to injury. When they answer honestly that they haven’t caught a single fish, the mysterious person tells them to cast their nets instead on the right side of the boat. You know what happens.
I’d like to share the story of another kind of net that can mean survival or devastation today: a bed net, given to families in Africa. It’s a simple method for reducing the spread of malaria and other diseases transmitted by mosquitoes.
The United Methodist Church has been fighting malaria for years. Recently our denomination’s work intersected with the efforts of the United Nations, which also had made the eradication of this disease a priority, and a relationship began to form.
Then things took an interesting turn. A popular columnist from Sports Illustrated, Rick Reilly, learned of the U.N. Foundation’s fund-raising efforts to deliver mosquito nets to people in Africa in order to save lives lost to malaria. He was inspired to write a column that called all of those who play sports that involve nets, and those who enjoy those sports, to donate $10 each to purchase a different kind of net – one that actually would save a life. The column was entitled “Nothing But Nets,” and his appeal raised $1.2 million! The effort quickly got the attention of the National Basketball Association (NBA), and we soon found the United Methodist cross and flame lined up beside the logos of the NBA, Sports Illustrated, the U.N. Foundation and other partners in the “Nothing But Nets” effort to provide bed nets for people most at risk for malaria in Africa. You can learn more about this effort at the Web site www.nothingbutnets.net.
For some people this alliance may seem a little strange. Yet we need only look at the Gospel accounts of the travels and associations of Jesus to see he constantly crossed the boundaries of what seemed “acceptable affiliations” in his day and culture. He went where others wouldn’t go, and he ate and hung out with persons that others in the religious establishment wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole.
When we realize we dwell in a world where one small part of the population lives in abundance, while others live in a desperate struggle for survival, we could conclude that we need new strategies, tactics and alliances if we are going to make a difference.
It may be long past time for us to hear Jesus’ call to cast our nets on the other side of the boat, to take what has become the familiar business of ministry and to find new ways to represent Christ in a world in urgent need of Christ’s intervention.
Let’s return to the film “The Guardian,” which I mentioned earlier, and to Ben Randall, the rescue swimmer. Leaving behind a world of relative comfort, time after time Randall dons the wet suit and the rescue gear, boards the Coast Guard helicopter and makes that 20-foot drop into raging, turbulent, icy waters. When the helicopter drops its net (a metal basket, in this case), Randall is the one in the water who sees that the victims make their way to the basket. He is the one who decides who gets picked up first, and often that determines who survives.
In a powerful scene near the end of the film, as Randall appears to be “passing the mantle” to his former student Jake Fisher, the new rescue swimmer asks about that mysterious number, the one spoken of in hushed voices at the Coast Guard elite training school. Is it 200 lives, or 300 or more? “Twenty-two” is the somber answer. Young Jake is taken aback; you can see the wheels turning as he imagines how easily that record is broken. Ben’s explanation shakes him back to reality: “That’s the count of the ones I didn’t save.” In the powerful silence that follows, the implications are clear: Ben Randall never bothered to count the hundreds of souls he snatched from a watery death, but he carries the weight of every individual life that might have made it but didn’t.
In the time it has taken for me to share these words, about 20 children have died from malaria. If we listed the number of bed nets necessary to protect all of the children, women and men who need them, the number would be staggering. We do know what we can do: if each us gave just $10 that would buy XX bed nets, and maybe we could save XX lives. Buy a bed net; save a life. We can do it for the children we can save. We can do it for the ones we cannot save, because that number weighs heavy on our hearts.
Or we could do it for ourselves, for our ongoing relationship with Christ is linked to our ability to be connected to those with whom Christ would connect. It’s part of my salvation-relationship with Christ. I could give a bed net, or 10, or a cup of cool water, or a meal, because of the way that act, thanks to Christ, blesses my transformed life.
In the end, I must acknowledge that it was me in that water, in the midst of stormy waves, facing death, until Jesus plunged into the water and swam my way. My rescue swimmer. my Savior, made sure I made it into the net, for the thought of even one lost weighs heavy on his heart. Can I do anything less?
