“Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” – Matthew 4:19

One day, long ago, some lubbers huddled about along tha shore ter listen to tha Son explain tha words of Skipper. With tha motley crew pressing in so close, tha Son looked fer a place where he could put some space between him and them fellers. Up tha beach, he seen some men washing thar nets. With one of ’ems boats beached, tha Son ordered tha feller ter put a little ways out from shore. Sitting in that gig, tha Son went back ter expounding on Skip’s words and Code of Conduct.

When he finished speaking, tha Son ordered tha feller what owned tha gig ter sail inter deeper water and let down tha nets. Even though that gig’s owner had fished all night without catching so much as a minner, he did as ordered. No sooner had the fellers in tha gig unfurled thar gear, when such a large number of fish rushed inter tha nets and commenced ter flopping about. Now, ya and I know fish not be the smartest critters in that sea. That honor goes ter the conch. Since fish be not all that bright, not a one escaped tha net.

The gig’s owner signaled ter his friends fer help. They came and filled both gigs so full tha tiny fleet began ter sink. If yer be thinking this be another of them tall tales dead men tell, let me remind ya that tha destiny of ever boat is ter sink. It would seem that day had come fer them gigs.

But low and be hold (fancy pirate phrase fer shazam) tha little gig reached shore without losing nary a fish. No sooner had they beached her on tha hard when tha Son said to the gig’s owner, “Don’t be afraid. From now on you will catch men.”

There be a great many things ter take note of in this here tale. People crowded around tha Son simply ‘cause he spoke words from Skipper. Well shucks, any old body kin do that. When we first meet tha fishermen we find’em hard at work washing their nets, proving them ter be good crew who knew how ter care fer their gear. Them fellers sailed in a fleet of two, showing they knew tha worth of safety in numbers. Tha gig’s owner didn’t get in a snit simply ‘cause a stranger took a notion ter sit a spell in his boat. But tha thing that be most telling ’bout this tale is that a good catch of fish be in deep water and deep water be far from shore.

If ya mean ter fish and catch a good haul, ya’ll need ter put out a ways. Then a ways more. And sometimes a long ways.

Men be worth more than fish, though both be tough ter catch. Fish not talk back, smack ya, spit on or cuss ya. Sometimes thar fins can poke yer skin and draw blood, so thar be that.

Don’t be a feared of fishing fer men. Any catch ya pull in ‘ill be worth tha effort.

Ya got a choice, mate. Ya kin fill a man’s belly and leave him hungry, or ya kin feed him the sort of fish’n chips that leave his soul full. It be yer net, yer time, and yer haul. How ya cast and where and when be up ter ya.

“I baptize you with and in water for repentance. The one who comes after me will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand. He will clear his threshing floor, gathering his wheat into the barn and burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire.” – Matthew 3:11-12

That rascal John tha Baptizer be an early explorer, a feller who followed tha Son be fer the Son had even come up over tha horizon. Tha Baptizer prepared tha way fer us by charting a course that you and me were ter follow. Fer his trouble, Herod Antipas, tha ruler of Galilee and Perea, lopped off tha Baptizer’s head. It happened this way.

That snake Antipas divorced his first wife Phasaelis and married Herodias, tha former wife of his half-brother, Herod II. In tha Code Fer Carnal Relations it clearly says, “Do not have relations with your brother’s wife; that would dishonor your brother. No one is to approach any close relative to have relations. I am the Lord.”

John tha Baptizer couldn’t abide by any feller going against tha Lord and breaking tha Code, so he called out that snake Antipas and told him ter repent. Ter stop. Ter make an apology. Ter make amends.

In response that snake Antipas ordered: “Off with his head!”and from a sheaf came tha executioner’s sword.

But thar be another who wields a tool and his not be a sword fer beheading, but a winnowing fork fer thrashing. Thar ‘ill come a day when Son ‘ill go about gathering them that be his and bringing ‘em inter his barn. Them others like that snake Antipas ‘ill be gathered like chaff and tossed inter tha fire. Chaff be the husk of a feller, his skin and bones. By thunder, if a mate knew of tha perils that lay ahead fer them that swims in tha Lake of Fire, he would beg ter go ter Davy Jones befer getting blistered with tha fire that ne’re ends.

Speaking of fire, when tha Son comes inter ya life, he’ll baptize ya in ter tha Holy Spirit and then set ya on fire fer him. Seems like an odd thing ter say: get dunked in water and then get fired up, but that be tha process. A feller’s got ter get cleaned of his old self fer he can catch fire fer tha Son.

What says you? Ya ready ter alter course, come about, and sail towards tha Son? Ya ready to turn yer back on tha way ya be living, be pardoned fer yer grievous offenses, and come in ter tha light? If so, drop ter yer knees right now and say something like this.

“Dear Lord Jesus, I know I be but a sinner. Here and now I confess ter being a scallywag and rascal. Thar be things I done I shouldn’t have. Here and now I ask ya ter pardon me. Fergive me. I believe you took tha lash fer me and died fer my sins. I believe ya come up from the dead, a thing no feller ever done ‘cept you. Here and now I promise ter turn from my sorry, sinful ways. Please come inter my heart and my life. Fill me with yer Spirit. Hense forth and ‘ever more, I promise ter trust and follow you and yer Father as my Lord, Skipper, and Savior. May it be so.”

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” – Matthew 5:11-12

Lashes and lies, that’s the pirate’s way. Ya got blamed fer something ya didn’t do an’ now yer in tha brig feeling sorry fer yerself while waiting ter get tha whip? Well, la-di-da. Welcome ter living life with scoundrels, thieves, and murdering cutthroats.

Now if ya done wrong, getting the lash be jest tha thing ya need. Ter be sure, incorrigibles who shut thar ears ter stern warnings need correcting.

But if folks be speaking lies ‘bout ya on account of tha Son ya follow, well then, that be a right fine thing ter celebrate. Thems that sailed after tha Son years ‘fore ya got tha lash and stocks, sword and gallows. They did so ‘cause tha booty promised be worth more than any small amount of flesh that tha cat o’ nine tails might yank away.

Lad like yerself might think ya different and special, unique and worthy of respect. Maybe yer mum or pop told ya such stuff ter make ya stop crying. But out here where thar be monsters, tha and wind and waves not be a respecter of feelings, mate.

Ya want to stand out? Then stand fer something that matters more’n land and sea, sky and spirit. Take a stand fer tha Son who guards yer soul and saves ya from yer grave offenses.

Do that an’ when the lash lands, its pain be a blessed reminder that ya be counted worthy ter serve in his crew.

“Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect.” – Matthew 5:48

“Pert near perfect,” says you. “No need ter change,” says you. Only them that knows ya well, can cite all manner of ills that befall ya.

“Ah,” says you, “but no man be perfect. Alls got some affliction er ailment that befuddles him.”

Tis true, we got troubles, thar’s no denying it. But tha kind of perfection the Son speaks of be the sort where a man be fit fer the purpose which suits him best. Ter send a feller up tha rigging to unfurl sails would be a poor use of a gunner with a sharp eye. Be a sorry skipper that puts his crew in harms way by assigning men positions aboard fer which they be ill fitted.

Be perfect in the same way tha stars shine bright, guiding tha skipper. Be perfect in tha same way wind fills a sail. Be perfect, mate, same as him who made ya be perfect. Don’ be someone ya ain’t and were ne’re meant ter be.

Be up right with yer steps. In that ways, when ya walk tha deck, ya won’ stumble and tumble overboards.