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Sunday April 18, 2010 "The Easter Command" John 21: 1-19 |
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Location: Blogs Brad's BlogBrad's Sermons |
 | | Posted by: Brad Miller | 4/21/2010 8:43 AM | Over the years, I have found myself in situations where an important person in my life was suddenly absent. Someone to whom I looked for guidance, someone to whom I looked for direction, someone whose presence made it possible for me to persevere, someone who presence was simply comforting.
I think of silly examples of that, like the night my high school football coach suffered chest pains in the locker room minutes before a game and had to be taken to the hospital. I remember that one of the assistant coaches gathered us for a prayer and we headed out to the field, intent on winning one for our stricken coach.
I wish I could tell you it was a magnificent effort that pushed our opponents to their limit. But, it was not a magnificent effort. I wish I could say we gave the winning game ball to our recovering coach, but we did not, mainly because we lost by about 45 points.
We knew what we were supposed to do, but we just couldn’t get it together. His presence was important, and without it, things were just not right.
I also think of more important examples when someone whose presence was sorely missed when they weren’t around any more. Retirements of folks who were important to the every day work place. The loss of friends who were travelers along the way, whose presence helped guide me. The loss of parents and others whose presence added much needed stability and comfort to my life. The presence of these folks was important, and in their absence, I found myself struggling, sometimes, struggling a lot.
I wonder if what I have felt in those times, is at all similar to what the disciples felt in the aftermath of Jesus death.
At loose ends. Not sure what they were supposed to do. Unclear on where they were supposed to turn for guidance. Lost and confused.
Peter, especially. Peter, who Jesus called the rock, the one upon whom the church would be built. Peter, the one who swore to Jesus that he would never abandon him. Peter, the one who leapt to Jesus’ defense that night in the garden when Judas betrayed Jesus and the Roman soldiers moved to arrest him. Peter, who would deny knowing Jesus three times before the sun rose the next morning.
By the time the scene from this morning’s scripture lesson unfolded, Jesus had been resurrected from the dead, and had made at least 3 appearances to his followers; once to Mary Magdalene, twice to gathered disciples. But there had been no extended discussion, no talk about what exactly would happen next, no chance to sit down and simply be together again. We have no reason to believe that the events of Holy Week had been discussed or that Jesus had spoken of how he felt about all that happened. All of this was still out there, the elephant in the room, so to speak. Surely, at some point there had to be a clearing of the air, a chance to ask forgiveness, a chance to be forgiven.
That morning on the beach by the Sea of Galilee was that time.
This has always been one of my favorite pieces of scripture. It was made even more so when I had the chance to actually visit the place that tradition says is where it took place. In Palestine on the Sea of Galilee about a 20 minute walk from the city of Tiberias, sits a place called the Primacy of Peter. There is a small chapel there, and several outdoor worship space, but the most important part of this place is a small stretch of beach: the beach where the resurrected Jesus stood and called to his disciples in the fishing boats. The beach where Jesus prepared them a breakfast of grilled fish and bread. The beach where Jesus came to meet them and spend time with them, in much the same way they had before his crucifixion.
The day I visited the primacy of Peter, my fellow pilgrims and I sat on rocks, and waded in the Sea and read this account out loud. As I sat there, in the very spot that it happened, I had an epiphany: the importance of this scripture is not only that Jesus left his disciples with some pretty direct instructions. No the real importance is that this passage gives us great insight into who Jesus was to the disciples and who Jesus is to us.
Peter and 6 of the other disciples needed to go somewhere and sort things out. And so they went to the place they knew best: the water. Sitting by the Sea of Galilee, they decided to get in the boats and go fishing. They had nothing else to do, so they did what they knew: they fished. Imagine how their depression deepened, when after a night of fishing, the one thing they knew they were good at, they had nothing to show for it. I do not picture this as a happy fishing trip. I picture it as a silent trip, each of the disciples deep in their own thoughts, going through the motions of fishing, but clearly, preoccupied to the point of distraction.
And here’s where we get to see Jesus’ true nature.
On this lonely, bleak night, Jesus comes to his disciples. This is really important: Jesus came to the disciples where they lived, in their hour when they needed him most.
Calling to them from the shore, it almost seems to me like he’s playing with them a little bit – teasing them about their fishing skills.
“What?” he says, “you haven’t caught any fish? Well, you’re fishing off the wrong side of the boat! Throw your nets to the other side.”
Given what we know about Peter, what do you think he was mumbling to himself about then? “Who does this guy think he is…throw your nets on the other side…fine, you want us to try the other side…okay.”
When they did, their nets became so full of fish to be almost to the breaking point. At that point, Peter recognizes Jesus and excitedly jumps out of the boat and swims toward shore.
In the aftermath of the fishing event, Jesus sets about to make the disciples breakfast, comfort food after a long, strange night. I can only imagine the conversations that took place. If you were one of the disciples what would you ask: what is crucifixion like? What is resurrection like? Where have you been the last few days? Who have visited? What exactly has happened?
But throughout all of this conversation, the elephant in the room is still as big as ever. Knowing what we know about Peter – stubborn, tempestuous, passionate Peter – I don’t believe that he was going to be the one to bring it up. Peter, who even in his joy to sit and share with Jesus again, felt ashamed and guilty for denying Jesus three times on the night of Jesus’ arrest. Peter, this proud working man, must have been being eaten up by remorse. He needs desperately to ask for forgiveness, but just how is he to broach the subject?
As breakfast is concluded, Jesus, not Peter, is the one who initiates the discussion.
Sitting with Peter, Jesus softly asks: “Peter, do you love me?” To which Peter replies “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.”
As the sun rises across the sea, they sit in silence until Jesus breaks it with another question: “Peter, do you love me?” Humbly, Peter replied, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And Jesus speaks: “Tend my sheep.”
They sit in silence again, Peter hanging his head – staring at the ground, until for a third time, Jesus speaks softly: “Peter, do you love me?” In agony from the humiliation of having to hear this question one more time, Peter responds, “Lord, you know everything – you know I love you.” To which Jesus replies again, “Feed my sheep.”
In my reimagining of this event, it strikes me that this is precisely the time when Peter understood what had taken place. Three times Peter had denied knowing Jesus. Three times, Jesus had asked if Peter loved him. Three times Peter had assured Jesus that he did.
In the cool of the morning, with the smell of the Sea of Galilee mingling with the smoke of a breakfast fire, Jesus had come to Peter and offered exactly what Peter needed, forgiveness for his denials. Peace of mind. Strength for the next part of the journey.
This is made all the clearer with what Jesus says next. He tells Peter that his road will become difficult, and one day, he will be taken prisoner, no longer able to do what he pleased. Jesus was preparing him for the ministry to come. Jesus was telling him in no uncertain terms, “Peter, mistakes can be forgiven, but I need you to carry the good news into the world. You are still the rock you were before. As you love me, I love you.”
And then comes the final command, the command that we ponder to this day: “Follow me.”
When we read this story, we tend to focus on the spoken commands of Jesus, and rightly so. They are important instructions given by Jesus to his followers, and if we are to seriously count ourselves in that number, we must realize that they are commands that are given to us.
“Feed my sheep. Tend my lambs. Follow me.”
Like Peter, we are called to move outside our comfortable existence and feed those who need nourishment: spiritual and spiritual nourishment. Like Peter, we are called to stop thinking about our own deficiencies, pick our gaze up off the ground and reach out in love to those who need us. I do not believe it is any accident that the opening salvo of Jesus’ earthly ministry is a recitation of Hebrew scripture that describes his ministry as serving those who are “the least of these”, and the closing chapter of the last Gospel instructs us to feed and tend Christ’s sheep.
But there is another command here: follow me. And in this passage, there is a wonderful example of how we are to act in our following of Jesus. It is embedded in who this Jesus was and is, and who we are.
Jesus came to Peter, in his hour of deepest need. Jesus comes to us in those same circumstances. In the dark night of the soul that many of us have from time to time experienced, the dawn comes and we recognize that it is Jesus that got us through. As part of the Body of Christ, we are expected to be there for others in their struggles, to remind them that they are not alone.
Jesus offered Peter forgiveness, freely, and completely. Jesus offers us the same forgiveness every day. When we repent of our sins, when we do our best to follow the right path, we are forgiven, freely and completely. As part of the body of Christ, we are expected to do the same for those who wrong us.
This is the Jesus we follow: the Jesus who comes to us and stays with us when we need it most. The Jesus who forgives us, even when we find it hard to forgive ourselves. The Jesus who nourishes every part of our being, and asks us to do the same for others. The Jesus who starts the whole process by being present for those who need him.
Ever since that day that I sat by the Sea of Galilee, moved beyond words to be in the place where Jesus prepared breakfast on the beach, the Easter command has taken on new meaning. Now, I know, that the Easter command is for us to first and foremost, be present in the world as Jesus was and is present in the world.
Because showing up is where it all begins. | | | Permalink | Trackback |
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