Dear Friends,
Where does this email find you this week? As I write to you, it’s Wednesday morning, the Feast of the Presentation, also known as Candlemas, and it’s also Groundhog’s Day. They’re seemingly two very different days, but at the heart of them is the same idea – the timeless desire for the return of light.
Of course, one big difference between Groundhogs Day and Candlemas - and I’m not just talking about Jesus vs. weird little rodents. While Groundhogs Day is built on a kind of uncertainty in the waiting for light, whether it will be sooner or later, on the untrustworthy cycles of the natural world, Candlemas declares that light is returning!
This is the nature of our faith – the night will always give way to the day. Though mother nature may have dumped about two feet of snow onto my region this past weekend, we are promised that now is the time of the light. And, in the light, I hope that we can see each other and God more clearly.
Candlemas falls solidly in the midst of Epiphany, a wonderful moment of celebration, but we are always living into the work. And this week we find our work in the Gospel reading, where Jesus encounters some of his disciples fishing. This is quite ordinary, their profession, but things aren’t going well. There are no fish, but when Jesus encourages them to try again, their nets full to bursting. A glorious success, but it’s not what Jesus is getting at here. No, Jesus says, this is not the real work. The real work is to come and it will be fishing for people.
If you’re like me and grew up in a “traditional” Sunday School, you probably sang the song Fishers of Men quite often. Doing so is one of my earlier memories, not the first Bible song I remember committing to memory, but certainly one of them. But now I’ve come to wonder, much as I have learned to wonder about the Parables, whether we are in the role of the disciples? Are we the fishers of men or the fish? Or, perhaps even, the net?
We tell children that Jesus calls us to be Fishers of Men because we are to disciple other people - but are we really ready for that? Especially as children, but really all our lives, I hope we can all be much more like the fish, being called closer to the source.
And, here’s the thing – fish so often travel in schools. They exist in community. They move together. To be a fish is to draw your compatriots to you. And, the nature of the school is also protective, helping each other skirt danger, avoid threats. At its best, this is what our Church communities do.
It’s easy and obvious to talk about being Fishers of Men in a way that emphasizes discipling others, but we cannot do this at the expense of ignoring our own discipling, our own education, and the nets of the world we don’t wish to get trapped in. It’s easy to be caught up or pulled away from the school, to be bycatch (confession: I know basically nothing about the ocean and the things that live there, so these are some wobbly analogies). This is why our formation is so important. It’s what makes us fish first, rather than fishers.
What are you doing at home and at church to feel secure in your school of fish, to find your way to the right net? This week, I’ve encountered a few gifts.
Gospel Rules! Maybe I’m biased because I love board games, but when I ran across these this week, they went straight to my congregation’s Associate Rector, who works with our Youth. Sure, collaborative board games are increasingly popular, and that’s good new for church communities, but what if we can go right to the source – to the Bible, the Gospels – for new ways to play and engage with each other. That’s what Gospel Rules offers, and with these as inspiration, I bet you can invent more of your own for your favorite board games!
Faithful Families for Lent, Easter, and Resurrection: I’ve talked up Traci Smith before, and I’ll do it again! This faith at home pro is back with a new book for the coming season, and you’re going to want it. As always, my favorite thing about Traci’s work is that, while she offers an abundance of ideas, her emphasis is on going deeper, not on doing more.
Paul Writes (a Letter): This was an unexpected addition to my work this week when the aforementioned blizzard snowed in Sunday School. My Godly Play materials were at work and I needed something to do during our education hour. I love how this book captures Paul and his friendships, how it isn’t just about the deep theological claims, but about the joys and challenges of being part of a community of believers. Sometimes his friends are an irritation and sometimes a joy and always they are the heart of his work.
And with that, friends, know you are the heart of my work. I love to hear from you, and I love writing this little note every week.
Be well. Look toward the coming light.
Best,
A. Bird