Calling All Fishermen

¿Qué pasa, Advent People?

This semester, I decided to embark on a journey that most students begin—and should begin—their freshman year of high school: I, a fourth-year student at Mercer University, enrolled in my first-ever Spanish class.

I know, I know... I'm embarrassingly late to the party, but thirteen-year-old Allie was dead-set on learning Latin, sixteen-year-old Allie quickly lost interest in learning a language at all, and eighteen-year-old Allie decided to hold off until seminary (Greek and Hebrew, here I come!).

However, as I've continued to build friendships and relationships with native Spanish speakers, my interest has grown—and not just because Spanish is cool, though it is. But because meeting my closest friends where they are—or at least meeting them halfway—feels like a good thing to do.

Of course, saying that I'm learning Spanish is one thing. Actually learning Spanish? Y'all... this is kicking my butt. I'm four weeks in, and I can already say: I am really bad at Spanish. Well, I'll reframe... I am not good at Spanish, and I am really bad at not being good at something.

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To be honest, I've been like that my whole life. I enjoyed playing chess until my little sister started beating me. I liked piano until I kept messing up. I was interested in knitting until I saw how advanced other knitters were.

As the oldest child of two oldest children—all with perfectionist tendencies—being wrong is incredibly, incredibly uncomfortable. Every part of my body screams, Quick! Abandon ship! Do something you're good at!

Thankfully, I've grown a bit over the years, so I'm able to push through these frantic attempts at protecting my pride, but still... being wrong is hard! Trying new things is even harder.

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In the Gospel of Matthew, one of the first things that Jesus does in his ministry is call the disciples. He finds two fishermen named Simon (called Peter) and Andrew, and tells them, "Follow me, and I will make you fish for people." Immediately, Peter and Andrew drop their nets and follow Jesus—no questions asked.

As a kid, I always wondered, "Were Peter and Andrew bad fishermen?" Maybe they saw Jesus as an opportunity. Their careers were already going poorly... How much worse could it get?

Mmmm maybe. But maybe Peter and Andrew were doing just fine as fishermen. Maybe Peter and Andrew were even great fishermen. Maybe they just knew that something about Jesus was different.

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What would it be like to leave behind your profession and follow a prophet? To leave behind boats and fish to, instead, teach, preach, heal, serve, and answer hard questions?

I doubt the disciples were very good at following Jesus at first. In fact, we know that they weren't. They got a lot wrong—Peter, most of all.

And yet... their acts of faith—their commitment to following Jesus despite their discomfort—moved mountains. They were the hands and feet of Jesus, and even though they got countless of things wrong, we can learn from their examples and nonexamples today.

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Sometimes, God calls us to leave behind what we're good at to tackle the unknown. From Moses, who left behind his palace to be a shepherd of sheep and people, to Andrew and Peter, who left behind their nets to be fishers of men... Sometimes, God calls us to do what is hard and frustrating for the sake of connecting with other people.

Because God values relationships over being right—over staying comfortable.

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For me, this looks like Spanish homework right now. Soon, it will look like submitting my seminary applications. And beyond that, God only knows:) But I'm excited to find out.

As we go through the journey called life, I encourage us to ask ourselves: How is God asking us to be uncomfortable? How is God asking us to be wrong? And how might we leave behind the known for the sake of connecting with God's people?

Happy Fall, Advent People! ¡Deséame suerte!