I don't fish.  I grew up around Chicago, and for me, "fishing" meant going to the local supermarket and finding a box of fillet, breaded, deep-fried, and then frozen fish sticks.

 

A couple years ago, some men in my church took my son on a fishing trip.  Scott came home with a bucket of nasty, slimy, smelly fish.  Neither he nor his mother had any idea what to do with them, so one of the men deboned them, and filleted them.  He then taught me how to cook them.  I was quite amazed to discover that those fish were a huge improvement over my frozen food variety!

Jesus has called us to be "fishers of men."  So many in the church think that is a fine idea, as long as we can do my Chicago suburb style of fishing.  We go out into the world and find some already cleaned up, civilized people, get them saved, and then celebrate with a fish fry!

The problem is, fish - and sinners - are not clean, sweet-smelling creatures.  They are messy, smelly, and they tend to flop around a lot trying to get back into their comfort zone.  Fishing may seem like a relaxing hobby, but actually catching fish takes work and a strong stomach.

Going out into a world of sinners, where immorality is rampant, jokes are crude, language is offensive, and violence is the norm is not a comfortable endeavor.  But just like a typical fisherman doesn't see fish launching themselves into the boat so they can be taken home and fried up for supper, the church doesn't often see "sinners" breaking down the church doors to get inside.  

To the contrary, they seem to understand that they don't fit, and they feel unwanted.  It should not be that way.  If we are going to learn to be fishers of men, we need to accept that fish will be fish.  

We need to look beyond the filth of sin and see the person underneath it all.  That person is someone Jesus loves so much, He died so that He could spend all of eternity with him or her.  The temporary mess that goes with ministering to the lost is well worth a few moments of discomfort.