My reflections this morning concern two stories: two stories about fishing. The first "fish story" relates to my own experience. The second concerns that of the first disciples.

When I was very little, we used to go to a place in the summer called "Dodd's camp." There were cabins by a lake, and boats, and a dock. Our family would stay there for about two weeks. I remember that I helped deliver ice to the cabins, and went to the dump with the garbage on a truck. I remember also that I loved to go fishing.

My dad would give me a stick with some string attached. I would sit at the end of the dock and fish there for hours.

I'd fish, and I'd think, and I'd stare at the water.

I'd think about the water, and how peaceful and content and safe it made me feel. I'd think about what I'd "do," and who I'd "be," when I grew up. (I knew that delivering ice was too cold, and that "delivering" garbage was too hot.) Occasionally, I'd think about sailing away in a boat - I'd wonder where that journey might lead, and whether I'd be afraid to sail alone. I never - ever - caught a single fish. But it didn't seem to matter.

When I was much older, my dad confessed that I never caught fish because I never had a hook at the end of my string - just a weight, and a soggy, pink ribbon. There was no hook, presumably, because hooks were dangerous.

I didn't really mind when I was told of my father's deception. I didn't mind because some of my fondest memories were of sitting at the end of that dock with my stick, and my string - just sitting, and thinking, and staring at the water. Looking back on it, I think that on that dock I first detected the voice of God's call - inaudible really, a faint whisper, an intuitive sense of something or someone quietly suggesting to me that I "follow." I knew not where. And I knew not how I might answer.

The second "fish story" that I'd like to consider this morning is from our text from Luke. There's a lake in this story also. And there are boats. There are nets, and there are fishermen who have caught nothing.

When I reflect upon a bible story like this one, it is my habit to read the whole passage once or twice, and then consider each sentence - or a portion thereof - individually. I do so with the prayer that God's Spirit will "read" the text with me. The hope is that - over time, and with grace - I might grow in wisdom concerning God's purposes for me, and for God's world.

I've been doing this for many years now, and must say that God (and God's purposes) remain, to a very considerable degree, a mystery to me - far beyond my ability to comprehend or appropriate fully. Nevertheless, I continue to believe that we gain insights from our study of - and reflection upon - sacred scripture: insights that are vitally important to our Christian vocation. I think that we can discern "channel markers" in these texts - markers to guide us on the journey through life: to teach us how best to conduct ourselves, and to calm any fears we might have as the journey progresses.

With this in mind, I would like to share with you just a few of my own reflections on today's gospel - certain meanings, or "markers," that struck me as significant when I read the text.

The overall theme of the passage is, of course, the experience of "call." Indeed, in some bibles, this passage carries the title: "Jesus Calls the First Disciples."

Near the beginning of the text, Luke writes: "[Jesus] saw two boats there at the shore of the lake; the fishermen had gone out of them and were washing their nets." (Luke 5:3)

It's worth noting that the setting for this story is commonplace. Jesus is beside the shore of a lake, and fishermen are about their daily tasks - they are washing their nets after a long, fruitless night on the water. In this context - this "workplace" setting - the disciples first experience the call of Jesus to become his disciples. Unlike Isaiah, who encountered God in the temple at Jerusalem, the disciples meet Jesus in the world outside, in the midst of the mundane affairs of daily living.

For me, this passages provides yet another reminder that the presence and power of God are not confined to buildings, or liturgies, such as this. God is most assuredly in the world, and we may expect to hear God's call to discipleship in the midst of our every day pursuits. As Oswald Chambers writes: "We look for visions of heaven and we never dream that God is in the commonplace things and people around us."

I think that I have mentioned to you from this pulpit that my first inkling that God might be calling me into a more personal relationship occurred many years ago in Toronto, on the Don Valley Parkway, in rush hour. Everywhere I looked, I saw Jesus bumper stickers, bumper stickers that I absolutely abhorred at the time. Finally, in desperation, I shattered the silence in my car with these words: "God, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were calling me." At the same moment, absentmindedly, I turned on the radio. The announcer said: "Yes, Sharon, I'm calling you." The announcer was referring to a contest, which Sharon "somebody" would win if she'd only answer the phone. A strange coincidence, I thought. But the coincidences began to mount up.

In any event, this morning, I want only to underscore that we are - in my view, and I would suggest in Luke's - are as likely to hear God's call/God's claim upon us on the Don Valley Parkway, or at Loblaws, or on Parliament Hill, as we are at Christ Church Cathedral. As John Donne has written: "The Holy Ghost speaks in such forms and such phrases as may most work upon them to whom He speaks...." (God, it seems, must have known that I was more likely to be in my car listening to CFRB, then to appear in any particular pew on any particular Sunday morning.)

Further along in Luke's text, Jesus asks the disciples to "put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch." (Luke 5:5)

As I read this passage, it seemed to me that God often invites us to explore new places and persons, places and persons that we have neither known, nor (perhaps) wanted to know previously. God calls us to "put out" into the deeper waters of life's experience - to sail toward the horizon of new possibilities, and trust that we will be safe.

Luke records Peter's response to the request to move into deeper waters in these words: "If you say so, I will put down the nets." (Luke 5:6)

I think Luke's point is clear. As hard as it may be to accept, obedience to God's call is an essential component of one's Christian vocation. We know that God is love, and we are called to be obedient to love's demands, and responsive to love's initiative. One author - commenting on the disciples response to Jesus in this story - has written: "Never mind that they were weary and longing for rest. Never mind that, as every fisherman knows, net fishing during the day is next to nonsensical. Never mind that Jesus had a background of carpentry and itinerant preaching, not fishing. Upon the say-so of Jesus, they lowered their nets." (Patricia Sanchez)

From time to time, surely Jesus asks the same of us. Never mind that that you are weary and longing for rest. Never mind that these things don't make much sense. Never mind that this is about government, or business, or prisons, or homelessness - and has nothing to do with the church per se. Never mind. Never mind. On my "say-so," - for the sake of love, for the sake of justice, for the sake of compassion - please, "just do it."

My last thought on the experience of call is that I think it is an experience/a process that continues throughout one's life.

Recently, I went on a cruise. I'd stare out at the water, and think. I'd think about the water and how peaceful and content and safe I felt - how wonderful it is to "go down to the sea in ships." I'd think about what I've "done" in my life, and who I've "been." Occasionally, I'd think about sailing (completely) away - and I'd wonder where the journey would lead me.

And I listened. I listened to see if I might discern God's call (God's claim) once again - the faint whisper of someone or something quietly suggesting that I "follow." I'm not sure that I did, but I will keep listening. And this time - almost 50 years after my days on the dock - I will know the answer to this prompting. By God's grace and with God's help, I will say with Isaiah: "Here I am; send me." (Isaiah 6:8) Amen.