Expectations

"Simon, you're a disgrace!" his father bellowed."A disappointment to our family, profession, and religion!"

Simon had heard these rants before, but when he told him what was coming next, his father would really go overboard. Simon needed to calm him down before he heard what was coming.

"Now Dad, I know I've made some decisions that you don't approve of, but..."

"Decisions I don't approve of?", his father interrupted. "You make it sound like I'm the one who's being unreasonable!"

Simon could see the veins in his father's neck starting to bulge. Not good.

"No one would approve!" His father continued. "I've taught you everything I know about fishing, and I even got you started with your own boat and crew. I groomed you to take over my business; to make a good life for you and our daughter in law, and to make our family proud. But you just couldn't keep your head out of the clouds. Some rogue rabbi came by and asked you to be 'fishers of men', and you abandoned the boats right at their moorings, and left your crew high and dry! Come on, what does 'fishers of men' even mean! How can you fish for men? "

Simon knew the conversation was a maelstrom, but, how to keep from getting sucked in? The Rabbi would know how, but He wasn't here.

"Dad, you know this wasn't just any man" Simon Implored. " He had this way of looking deep inside of me, even in the beginning. He made me feel like I was destined for greater things than just fishing."

"Oh, so fishing is beneath you now? You're too important to take care of your family? Too important to honor your father and mother?"

Simon could see the neck vein really bulging now, and sweat was starting to bead up on his father's forehead, but he wanted his father to understand.

"No, that's not what I'm saying at all! I knew there was a price to pay for following Him, but some opportunities only come once. This man performed miracles and opened my eyes to the heart of God! I couldn't pass up the opportunity to follow Him."

"And how's that working for you?" his father countered contemptuously. "He was arrested, convicted, and killed, and you almost got arrested with him. At least you had the sense to deny you knew him when that happened. And then you came crawling back here to pick up where you left off."

Time seemed to stand still for moment. He saw his father's eyes sweep the room as they passed over Simon and then the family table where they ate so many meals together. They swept over the fishing net in the corner, which his father and him had repaired so many times, that there wasn't any original material left. They swept over the crude wooden boat figure he had carved for his father when he was a boy. His father seemed to deflate, and the neck vein receded like a calming sea swell after a summer storm.

"I'm sorry I got all riled up again, son, but those wounds will take a while to heal. The important thing is that you're back. Of course, I had to fire the captain and crew that replaced you, so you could get your boat back and use your own crew. It will take time, but we can still salvage our reputation, if you finally get your priorities straight. We'll take it one day at a time."

There was an awkward pause as his father changed the subject.

"So, now that you're back at the helm, how was your catch today?"

Simon was glad his father had calmed down, but he knew he couldn't wait much longer to tell him his intentions. It would be like dropping an anchor on his father's foot. Better to start out with a least a little good news.

"Well, we had a record catch today. We caught so many fish, the nets were breaking."

"Now you're talking, son! I bet you raised some eyebrows out there. What's your secret? Did you use that trick of watching the sea birds like I taught you? I heard the other boats weren't catching anything. This could be the break we need to get back on track."

"Well, we were getting skunked too," Simon replied, " but instead of watching the birds, I was watching a man on shore. There was something about him that caught my interest. He told us to try fishing on the other side of the boat. At first I thought he was joking. Like, seriously? The fishing will be better 10 feet to starboard from where we'd just been fishing? But we did it anyway, and now we have more fish than you ever dreamed of."

"Son, that's a miracle! It's a sign from God that you were meant to join us back fishing again. I wonder who that man was?"

"Yes Dad, it was a miracle, and you're not going to believe this, but that man was Jesus."

"That's crazy talk Simon! It can't be him. He's dead and buried!"

"Not anymore."

His father looked at Simon in stunned silence.

"He was raised from the dead, and I'm leaving this afternoon to follow Him again."

His father was too shocked to speak. His neck vein resumed its antics, and was now pulsing like a fish flopping on the deck.

Years later, as his father looked back, he knew he had said and done many things as Simon packed up his meager belongings and left the family home on that fateful day, but it was all still hazy. Now, as he looked at the carved wooden boat figure, all he could think about was how Simon, who used to be his son, had thrown away his life, would die in obscurity, and never realize his potential. And his father would never be able to realize his dream of occupying his proper place of honor among the other fisherman.