Simon Peter's boat had been moored unattended for several months before they returned.

Nets needed repair and tending. The bottom of Simon Peter's boat covered with algae, the consequence of warm water from the Tabgha springs. Since Peter was also an early riser, he and Jesus often chatted quietly about the matters of their hearts and the events of the day. This morning, Peter related his need to work on the boat and nets. "Let's go," Jesus responded immediately. "I miss working with my hands."

Together, the two men labored all day until the boat was finally in good shape. They were so absorbed in conversation and work that they hadn't noticed how hungry they were until Joanna came to get them for supper .

The next morning Peter and a few of the others had already gone when Jesus awoke. "I'll walk down to the docks later to see how the fishing went," Jesus thought, smiling with satisfaction at the previous day's accomplishments.

By late morning they had returned with an empty boat, discouraged and grumbling about the day's failure. As they tended the nets, a small group had gathered around Jesus to ask questions. As he taught, the growing crowd began pressing in. Grateful that Peter had returned, he backed away from the crowd and headed for the boat. Stepping into Peter's boat, Jesus asked him to put out a little from shore. Once anchored, he sat down and taught the people from the boat.

"You scurry about quietly as a crab in the night, hurrying this way and that, wondering if you will ever find a morsel, a bit a flotsam in the foaming water, and be nourished. Sometimes you scurry not so soundlessly, sometimes in dark silence the struggle persists. You long for relief from the ache in your belly. And then, at a moment and in a place you least expect, it comes. It comes in such abundance that you wonder what to do with it all. And you are reminded that the Father loves and cares for his children.

"As a small child, when my father visited his friends, he took me along. Sometimes he would ride me on his shoulders. Sometimes, he held my hand as I walked alongside. His steps were so big and mine so small. The path was irregular and uneven, littered with rocks and things to make me stumble. Often my grip loosened and I lost my balance. His hand always tightened around mine, and I never fell. I never skinned my knees, because it was his strength, his love holding on to me. So it is with your Father in heaven. It is he who holds on to you, not you holding on to him. It is his strength, his love that you trust, not your own. As David has taught you to . . .

Delight yourself also in the LORD; and He will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to the LORD, trust also in Him, and He will do it. And He will bring forth your righteousness as the light, and your judgment as the noonday . . ."

When Jesus taught like this, my heart warmed at his gentle words. It occurred to me that he was revealing the Father by revealing himself in what he taught. They were words of hope that no matter how prone I am to fall, or how grave the dangers of the path, my hand is in his, and even should my grip slip, his does not. The Father will not let go of me.

When he had finished speaking, Jesus said to Simon, "All right, Mr. Fisherman, let's go fishing! Put this thing into deep water and let down the nets for a catch," his eyes still following the people as they dispersed.

Peter thought the idea absurd, a naive, amateurish notion that revealed ignorance of his profession. He and the others had labored since well before daylight with nothing to show for it. He knew that the fish were running too deep for the nets that day. By now, Jesus should know better. He, Simon Peter, knew what he was doing. They would try again tomorrow. Some days were just like this. Besides, it was the wrong time of day to fish. He knew that. Jesus obviously didn't, or had forgotten. And so he answered tolerantly, as if not to embarrass him, "Master, we've worked hard all morning and caught nothing."

The look in Jesus eye indicated that he remained unconvinced, or that what Peter had just announced didn't matter. One might observe him thinking, Sometimes, in order to teach the uninformed, it is best to let them learn by their own embarrassment. I will try not to tell him 'I told you so.'

"All right," Peter conceded, "because you say so, I will do this." Sails hoisted, the boat plowed through the waves toward the center of the lake. Peter was making it as sure as he could that it was not he who would be embarrassed. Even the most untutored in this business knew that it was almost impossible to catch fish in these reaches of the sea. At length, Peter dropped anchor. The anchor chain snapped rigid, indicating that it was much too short to reach bottom. Over the side the nets went. It took a few moments for the nets to spread. Then Peter and his crew of professionals, exchanging patronizing looks among themselves, began to pull in the nets.

At first, the nets heaved too easily. That was to be expected. They were empty, obviously, as expected. But as arm over arm of net was taken in, it became more difficult. The looks these experts were exchanging now shifted to surprise. And then bewilderment. And then panic. They could feel thumping and struggling against the nets.

Then they saw them--hundreds of them. Eyes bulging, corded muscles straining, with every ounce of strength mustered, they pulled until they could hear the nets tearing, losing dozens of fish back into the sea. Even with ripping nets, fish cascaded onto the deck of the boat and down into the hold, causing the boat to wallow in the water.

The sons of Zebedee had seen Peter, Jesus and Peter's crew head for open water and had followed, more out of curiosity than any hope of catching fish. Now they could see something. What are they doing? Arms waving? Signaling? They came as fast as the wind could bring them until they pulled alongside Peter's boat. It was almost too late. Wavelets were beginning to lap over the gunnels. John, James and the rest of their crew leaped to assist Peter, and then their boat too, began to fill. Silvery fish were everywhere, leaping and flopping over the decks of both boats. In a few moments, the men were knee-deep in fish, both boats wallowing in the water.

Peter looked at Jesus. This naive, ignorant of the sea, untutored--Person, sat by himself in the stern of the boat, fish flopping all around him, holding himself in repressed laughter. You could see that Jesus was in pain from his mirth.

There was no explanation. Peter, in addition to grossly underestimating Jesus, surely had offended God himself. Seeing this, wading through hundreds of flopping bodies, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Stop it! Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" Peter was embarrassed by his own ignorance; in this case, the ignorance of a very proud, self-confident and self-absorbed man, ignorance, no doubt, of who it was who had invited him to launch out into the deep.

Can it be that God would ask impossible things? We, like Peter, who know the futility of such things, know the inherent danger of ruin. We are men and women of discretion, are we not? We define our priorities. We carefully select our battles. We know better than to waste our valuable time in an endeavor promising such minimal value in return. That is the way of the world. We take risks, but only when it is reasonable to do so. Only when the "odds" are in our favor. This is wise and intelligent. It is the way one should conduct business. Formulate a plan. Test the market. Validate an idea before committing too deeply. Never strike out on your own. Plan. Plan. Plan!

Then said Jesus to Peter, "Don't be afraid, my friend. You have offended no one. You responded exactly as expected. But from now on you will catch men."

Great excitement on Capharnaum's waterfront that day when the boats returned. Fishermen from all around came to help. "Where did you find this?" they asked. When told from the deep, they didn't ask questions but quickly rigged and cast off for the deep themselves. Those that did, did not return empty. There were volunteers to help unload Peter and Zebedee's heavily ladened boats. For their trouble and assistance, Peter and Zebedee parted with some of their harvest. There was more than enough to go around. The income from this catch would sustain them for weeks.