Fishers of Men, Not Sorters of Souls

“Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a net thrown into the sea, which collects fish of every kind. When it is full they haul it ashore and sit down to put what is good into buckets. What is bad they throw away. Thus, it will be at the end of the age. The angels will go out and separate the wicked from the righteous and throw them into the fiery furnace, where there will be wailing and grinding of teeth.”
— Matthew 13:47-50

Learning to surrender authority, embrace our place in the Body of Christ, and stop demanding resolutions.

“We are fishers of men.” It's a familiar phrase. But somewhere along the way, we can begin to believe that we're also responsible for sorting the catch.

During Adoration, I found myself reflecting on Matthew 13:47–52, the parable of the net.

Jesus describes the Kingdom of Heaven as a net cast into the sea, gathering fish of every kind. When the net is full, it is brought ashore, and the good are separated from the bad. Jesus tells us that at the end of the age, the angels will perform this separation.

Everyone is gathered. Everyone is subject to the end. But not everyone has been given the same responsibility.

And that distinction has been teaching me something about authority, charity, and my constant desire for resolution.

We All Grow Together

The parable of the net reminded me of another teaching from Matthew 13: the wheat and the weeds.

They grow together. Good and bad, side by side, until the harvest.

That's our world. That's our families, our workplaces, our parishes, and even our own daily struggles with sin and charity.

We aren't standing outside the field examining everyone else's progress. We're growing in it.

And we aren't standing on the shore supervising the angels. We're in the net.

There's something profoundly humbling about that realization.

We can become so occupied with identifying what's wrong, determining who's responsible, and deciding how everything should be resolved that we forget we're subject to the very same judgment.

Recognizing sin doesn't give us authority over another person's soul. Understanding God's commandments doesn't appoint us to administer His final judgment.

We are all accountable to God.

The Temptation of Authority

I've been recognizing how easily responsibility can turn into a desire for authority.

I see a problem. I recognize what I believe should happen. I want to explain it, correct it, and reach a resolution.

And when that resolution doesn't come, I can find myself returning to the same problem, rehearsing the same arguments, and carrying responsibilities that were never entirely mine.

Sometimes I disguise my desire for control as a desire to do good.

But being right about something doesn't automatically make me responsible for controlling its outcome.

Christ has already established His Church. He has given us His commandments, the sacraments, the teachings of the apostles, and the example of His own life.

He hasn't left us without direction.

What He hasn't given me is authority over every person, every circumstance, or every ending.

I can offer help. I can teach what I've received. I can correct when correction is genuinely my responsibility. I can establish necessary boundaries and fulfill the duties entrusted to me.

But I cannot make another person repent, understand, agree, or change.

And I certainly cannot determine their eternity.

Being called to participate in God's work doesn't mean being placed in charge of it.

One Body, Many Parts

St. Paul reminds us in 1 Corinthians 12 that the Body of Christ has many members, each with its own function.

The eye cannot tell the hand that it isn't needed. Neither can every member insist on performing the same work.

Each has a part.

I'm beginning to understand how much peace there is in allowing each member to fulfill their own responsibilities without continually attempting to assume them.

As a father, I have responsibilities. As a catechist, I have responsibilities. As a Catholic, I am called to repentance, obedience, prayer, and charity.

Those duties require action, not passivity.

But they don't require me to become everyone else's conscience, spiritual director, judge, or source of resolution.

And they certainly don't excuse me from examining myself.

There's an important difference between helping someone carry a burden and insisting on carrying their entire life.

Sometimes charity means speaking. Sometimes it means correcting. Sometimes it means remaining present when a situation is uncomfortable.

And sometimes charity means accepting that I've done what I reasonably can and allowing another person to exercise their own free will.

I don't have to abandon my responsibilities to stop assuming responsibilities that belong to others.

Learning to Live Without Resolution

This might be the most difficult part of the lesson for me.

I like resolutions.

I like knowing where things stand, understanding why something happened, and believing that if I explain myself clearly enough, everything will eventually make sense.

But life doesn't always provide those conclusions.

People don't always understand. Relationships don't always resolve. Problems don't always disappear because I've identified them correctly.

Even my own spiritual formation isn't a problem I can solve once and declare complete.

It's a lifetime of responding to grace.

The temptation is to believe that peace will arrive once everything is settled.

Yet the Gospel keeps directing my attention somewhere else.

To today's responsibilities.

To repentance.

To charity.

To trusting the Father.

I don't need to know how every situation ends before I can faithfully live the day God has given me.

That doesn't mean becoming indifferent to injustice or avoiding difficult conversations. It means learning to distinguish between the work I've been given and the outcomes I've been trying to possess.

There will be unresolved problems tomorrow.

There will also be another opportunity to love, forgive, pray, and obey.

Fishers of Men

Jesus called His disciples to become fishers of men.

He didn't appoint them to determine the eternal destiny of everyone they encountered.

They were called to proclaim the Gospel, make disciples, baptize, teach, and bear witness to Christ.

The final judgment belongs to God.

Perhaps that's why the parable of the net has stayed with me.

The net gathers every kind of fish. The separation comes at the end. The angels perform the work Christ assigns to them.

There is an order to everything, and I have a place within that order.

I don't need to appoint myself to another position.

I can recognize sin without appointing myself judge of souls. I can practice charity without demanding that everyone respond as I expect. I can fulfill my responsibilities without requiring immediate proof that my efforts have succeeded.

And I can trust that God knows what He's doing, even when I don't understand what He's allowing.

The rules aren't hidden. Christ has shown us how to live, and His Church continues to teach us.

The difficulty isn't always knowing what to do.

Sometimes it's accepting where my responsibility ends.

We are called to be fishers of men, not sorters of souls.

Let the eye see. Let the hand work. Let each member fulfill its part.

Let God be God.

And perhaps, instead of spending another day demanding resolutions, I can spend today becoming more faithful in the work He's already given me.

Formation Wednesday: I don't have to resolve everything to respond faithfully to God. My responsibility is today's obedience, repentance, and charity. The final judgment belongs to Him.

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