Swimming Lessons and Spiritual Lessons

My mother was always terrified when she was in waist-high water. She did not want her children to struggle with this phobia, so she signed us up for swimming lessons.

That first encounter with the water was not a positive one. We spent a week in the shallow end of the pool, trying to learn how to back float and face float. My back was sunburned so bad that it blistered and I couldn't stand to have anything touch it - not even a light-weight bed sheet. At week's end, My sister and I could barely keep our heads under water, let alone abandon ourselves to the buoyancy of water. On Friday, the instructors tested us to see if we could graduate to the next level. "You have to jump off the diving board and make it to the side of the pool." Excuse me? You want me to jump into the deep end, even though we haven't been in that end of the pool once this week, and somehow, I'm supposed to get myself from the point of entry beneath the diving board to the side of the pool? I barely know how to stay afloat! No thanks."

I didn't graduate.

The following year, Mom tried private lessons. We began in the shallow end. We learned how to float and how to do the elementary backstroke and the crawl. Our instructor slowly moved us closer to the deep end, then closer to the scary diving board. As our confidence grew, the fear subsided. We knew we could make it from one side of the pool to the other, and it didn't matter if we were in the shallow end or the deep end. The strokes worked no matter what. That's when the instructor had us push off the side of the pool and tread water - for just a few minutes at first, then for up to fifteen minutes. Eventually, we learned to tread water without the use of our hands. She made us raise our hands out of the water while we moved our feet furiously. Even then, we didn't drown. Next, she had us jump in the water fully dressed, simulating what happens when a boat capsizes. We had to kick off our shoes and take off our pants and t-shirts while remaining in ten-feet of water. Only when we were stripped down to our swimming suits, were we permitted to swim back to the side of the pool.

That's when she introduced us to the diving board. The deep end of the pool was no longer intimidating, even from this perspective. I stepped off the end of the board, confident that all would be well. I wasn't going to drown.

Jesus talked in parables and figurative language quite often. His illustrations ranged from agrarian imagery to sea references. Today, I'm thinking of the words in the Gospel according to St. Luke. Cast out into the deep.

If you never cast a net, this would be challenging. If you had never been in deep waters, this could be terrifying. But if you had done these things over and over again, you would gracefully pick up the net and heave it into the sea.

Jesus is using this as a metaphor for catching souls. If you have never talked about your faith to anyone outside of church, this is a really scary command. You want me to do what? You want me to say that to them? Are you kidding me? They don't even know I'm a Christian. Well, they probably know that I'm Christian - but they certainly don't know I'm that kind of Christian. They'll think I'm crazy.

The fishermen knew how to cast into deep waters. They had done it many times. At the Lord's command, they did it once again. And their nets were filled. The catch that day was better than they had ever seen.

Go ahead, cast into the deep. Share the good news of Jesus Christ with someone. If you are afraid, that simply means you haven't done it enough in the past. No one is expecting you to jump from the kiddie pool into the deep waters. But you are being asked to try to learn by doing. By trying. By repeating these efforts over and over until the deep is no longer intimidating.

Go ahead, cast your nets. See the abundance of the Lord. For He has made you fishers of souls.