“Once while Jesus was standing beside the lake of Gennesaret, and the crowd was pressing in on him to hear the word of Gd, he saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets. He got into one of the boats, the one belonging to Simon, and asked him to put out a little way from the shore.”
~Luke 5:1-3

On Saturday I sat on a boat for four hours waiting for a bobber to slip under the water. With several others I was fishing on Lake Mille Lacs as we all quietly(mostly) sat and stared at neon hued balls of plastic dance on the waves of this beautiful lake known for its good old Minnesota walleye. It felt as if summer had begun.

Now I don’t claim to be a great fisher person though I certainly live with those who love it. While I love riding in any boat whose owner invites me, I am not always so patient with the act of fishing. There is, of course, the whole baiting the hook thing and then also the compassion I have for the fish itself. But I realize for some that fishing is sport, for others necessity and for still others it is hope. What I learned on Saturday is that it is also something else. It is an act of contemplation.

You see while you are sitting in a boat you are already suspended in a precarious situation. You are floating on water, water that laps and waves and has the ability to lull you into a certain primal rhythm. For the most part, if you are fishing you are not thinking about swimming, so the boat becomes your home for the time being. Floating along while holding a rod and reel, your main focus is the bobber. Staring at the bobber, while floating on the water, allows you to breathe deeply and be in the present moment. After all if you take your eyes off the bobber you just might miss the chance to see that neon globe go down precipitating a whole other set of events. While you are staring your mind can ponder all kinds of things or nothing at all.

The nothing at all was my goal this past weekend. After four days of our Annual Conference, four days of lots of words, lovely though they were, had left me ready for a little quiet time. And so I was quite content sitting, staring, waiting, hoping. It was a meditation of sorts. Though every now and then someone would call out “fish on!” and a net would appear to scoop up a wiggly, shiny finned-one, I was able to keep my eyes on the water allowing the words that had backed up into the crevices of my spirit to ooze out and fall beneath the waves.

It caused me to think of all the number of times Jesus got into a boat. The stories in the scriptures have him sitting in boats, standing in boats, telling his buddies to fish on one side of the boat or the other. These words also tell of him sleeping in boats and, of course, walking right over the side of the boat and onto the water. Somehow he must have gotten the whole contemplative nature of boat thing, too. What better way to clear your head and refuel your spirit after all the healing and storytelling and preaching and loaf multiplying?

So here’s a recommendation. If you have a big decision or a small one on the horizon, go out in a boat, throw in a line and watch the bobber. Just stay with it. You might catch something or you might not. Maybe it really doesn’t make any difference. Maybe it is the act of floating on water and quieting our bodies while focusing on one thing at a time that is the primary gift of fishing. Maybe it is about being present in the moment and not flitting from one shiny thing to another. Maybe it is not about hauling in a net full of walleyes.

This is of course only my opinion. If you ask a real fisher person, they may have a whole other take on it. For them, it might really be about the fish.