We’ve been feeding the fish almost daily: bread, honey nut cereal, tortillas, our ice cream cones (just the cones), and spicy Doritos. Those are going to be some interesting tasting fish.
I’d heard you had to get to the river early for a good spot to watch, but it wasn’t starting until 8am and the river winds throughout Memmingen, so “Surely,” I thought, “there will be plenty of room.” We walked down the block, rounded the corner to our favorite fish feeding spot, and were blown away by the size of the crowd.
There were hundreds of participants and thousands of onlookers. Who knew fishing could be such a draw? Brent Hamilton, I suppose.
In order to participate, you must be a male born in Memmingen or a 20-year resident, have your fishing license, and be part of the fisherman’s club. These fisher “men” come back from all over the world for this annual event. Karen, who owns & operates Marty's favorite café, said her boyfriend traveled back from China to participate.
Now I know that “male” part certainly wouldn’t fly in America, but in Germany, the women seem content to let the men be the ones foolish enough to jump into cold river water at 8 in the morning on a Saturday to catch a few fish for fun.
They were lining the river, waiting for the sound of the cannon that would announce the start. Scared most of us when it went off, even though it was expected. They all jumped in with a yell and began combing the waters with their nets, the only tool allowed for catching fish in this event.
It was fantastic fun! Every time a net came up with a fish, they let out a yodel-type call of “Alle Alle Alle!” and took it to their supporting family on the banks who quickly unloaded it into a bucket, so they could go back for more.
The bridge where we feed fish had at least 30 hanging out under it all the time, so there was plenty to go around. My favorite part was watching the young boys, whose faces would beam with excitement when they pulled a fish out of the water. You could hear them calling “Opa! Opa! I got one! I got one!” (partly translated from German of course) as they’d announce to their Grandpa that they’d caught a fish. There were many generations of fishers in the water.
Even when the fish appeared to be all caught, they stayed in the water celebrating. Several jumped off the bridge belly flop style. They splashed each other and laughed and hooted and hollered. It was quite a party.
As we wandered off to "catch" some breakfast at a local coffee shop, I reflected on how Jesus calls us to be fishers of men. I think it was meant to be a lot like this.
Preparing.
Taking along the family and friends for support.
Waiting in anticipation for God to say “Go” when the time is right.
Being just a little scared when the time IS right.
Jumping in with Joy!
Combing the waters thoroughly, so that none slip away.
Rejoicing with each catch!
Bringing it safely to shore where others take over.
And having lots of fun with each other all along the way, even when there appears to be no more to catch for the time being…
God is good. Let's go catch some “fish”!
;)
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