Fishing probably had a larger impact on me than I often like to give it credit for. A franciscan these days can’t often bond with another franciscan over fishing because it carries the connotation of a cruel sport that injures God’s creatures. For that (pious) reason, I often went long stretches without fishing through high school and college which brought on guilt for the monetary investments from my parents in fishing gear for Christmas presents.

 A good balance seemed to be fishing while praying not to catch anything. Either I was a terrible fisherman or God really does answer prayers (or both?)! I went fishing, even without expectation of catching anything, for what I would later discover to be named contemplation. Fishing provided the solitude, silence, and nature which allowed the same silent sound to pass over that Elijah heard on the mountainside (1 Kings 19: 11-13). I was able to wrestle with all my thoughts and fears that were troubling me. I was able to feel free of all anxieties and just soak in the beauty such as a blue heron stalking nearby or the grace of a fish breaching the surface. 

I enjoy the lesser known but real stories of the early days of the franciscans. One of those stories is about when so many people were coming to hear Francis preach that the Benedictines decided to give a chapel and the property it laid upon to Francis. Francis, wishing to strictly adhere to the vow of poverty refused to own the property but decided to rent it and paid for it with a basket of fish caught in the local river. This rent, along with a return gift of a barrel of oil from the Benedictine monks, is exchanged each year still to this day. 

One of my favorite stories in the Bible is the ending of the Gospel of John where Jesus is by a campfire with fish and bread and invites the disciples to join Him. Together, breaking bread, breaking fish, and asking “Do you love me?” That is what the Good News seems to be all about. 

If one day I’m a vowed Franciscan, the Good Lord willing, I would love to be tasked with gathering the basket of fish to give to the monks. It probably wouldn’t be the most efficient placement for me, but it would mean time for silence and contemplation, which is efficient enough for God.