The phrase "I will make you fishers of men" represents one of the New Testament's most memorable metaphorical transformations. When examined through the psychological concept of affordance theory—developed by James J. Gibson in the 1970s—this calling takes on fascinating dimensions that illuminate both the pedagogical genius of Jesus' approach and the possible processes underlying vocational transformation.
In psychology, an affordance is the potential action that an object or environment offers to an individual. There is something in the object, environment, or in a person that indicates that something else or something more is possible. Affordances are the perceived or actual properties of an object that suggest how it can be used. In design, affordances are visual clues that indicate possible actions; such as a door handle suggesting it should be turned or pulled. These clues are defined by the relationship between an object's properties and the capabilities of the person interacting with it. In digital design, a red 'X' gives the possibility of closing the tab; often we search for it, or a button that looks raised or highlighted would mean that it can be "clicked". Good design uses clear affordances to make it obvious how to interact with an object or interface without needing instructions or labels. It is not enough to have a door but a handle to open it; and person to see it and open it.
Affordance fundamentally shows forth what one can do or what one is capable of. Jesus, seeing Peter and Andrew (Matthew 4:19 and/or Mark 1:17), could see the affordance of being fishers of men. Great masters see what the disciples are capable of. They see handles, switches, and staircases to bigger futures.
Jesus saw in the disciples focus, patience, not giving up in failures, and fearless even on the face of death; which could be steps and handles to open bigger doors and reach greater hallways. This wasn't merely intellectual knowledge, it was inscribed in their bodies, habits, and perceptual systems—Jesus saw it. His calling was recognising new affordances in familiar environments. Grace doesn't destroy nature but perfects it—similarly, the calling doesn't negate fishing expertise but transforms its telos (purpose). The natural affordances remain; their ultimate meaning shifts.
As a chair, affording sitting; a staircase, affording climbing; water affords being drunk by the thirsty—but the thirsty must recognise or see it as such. Notice in another occasion Jesus plainly tells his disciples, I am the Living Water (John 7: 37-39), meaning that he gives spiritual nourishment; the disciples failed to see that affordance in Jesus.
The question becomes not what completely new thing must I become? But what new possibilities does my familiar world afford when perceived in light of a greater vision? Transformation often comes not through abandoning our formed perceptions and capabilities, but through discovering that they afford more than we had imagined.

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