| June 03, 2007
You are Welcome to Reflect on this Message
In the final chapter of John’s Gospel, after he ended it once in Chapter 20, somebody added Chapter 21 because something more needed to be said. What can you do for an encore after rising from the dead?Only Jesus would think holding somebody responsible for their behavior, giving them a chance to say “I was wrong” is a bigger miracle than Easter! It all began with John’s phrase: “After these things.” (After Jesus was betrayed, tried, crucified, buried, and resurrected), those things. It was after all that when, “Jesus showed himself ... again.” He had some unfinished business to take care of with the church. Primarily it was because his disciples had put on their St. Jude medals -- “The saint for a hopeless cause.”
In the backwash of Easter, the disciples are abject; not knowing what to do next. All they know for sure is, they’re tired of having the rug pulled out from under them. So they did what was natural and went back to what they used to be good at. And thus began the Christian faith, according to John -- with an empty hope, as the despondent disciples of Jesus hung out a plaque that read: “Gone Fishing!” When it came to fishing, Jesus’ forelorn followers were experts. And as it turns out, it’s what they’re supposed to be doing before and after Jesus originally called them. The only difference was -- before, it was to earn a living. “After these things” ... it was to answer a calling.
Fishing for fish is one thing, but fishing for people is a tricky business, because it can become a business -- where you end up with plenty of property to look after, but fewer people to inhabit it. We’re 50 years removed from the slow ‘50's, back when the fishing was pretty good! But now that we’re still new in the 21st century, the church business isn’t faring so well. The majority would rather read the Projo than Proverbs, and church is for graduation and that’s about it. Kids would rather meet their buddies over at the mall instead of Sunday School. Couples get married at ski resorts by friends instead of a pastor who’s baptized them. So the church is right back where it started, fishing all night and coming up empty. And when Jesus shows up, asking us to try something else, all we can do is stammer and stare at the ground. Their problem was fishing “on the wrong side of the boat.” What’s our problem? Maybe we’re gonna have to decide whether the gospel is about church growth, contemporary worship, bringing ‘em in, or human liberation.
Despite all the religious “best-sellers” we don’t know what Jesus would say to us. All we know is what the church said-he-said then; to those who hung out the “Gone Fishing” sign: “Ya’ll catching any fish?” I have a hunch “Jesus the Cook” would say to us, you’ll never attract others, till you learn how to accept each another. This is a lot harder than fishing. When you care more about their redemption than for your institutional security, that’s when church comes alive, I believe.
Jesus is on the seashore serving up a unity meal, to get everybody on the same page. God knows it’s an important component if the church is to succeed. Peter and John had to be reconciled before they could fish together. Then the Fourth Gospel adds this twist -- with two new disciples crowding into the boat, ensuring that things were gonna change from the way it used to be. That’s OK with Jesus. There’s always room for more in his boat because his house was to be “a place of prayer for all people.” But these new disciples go along with the old ones and revert back to the old ways, which consists of: putting in lots of meaningless effort. Fishing all night. With nothing to show for it. Sound like the church?
So Jesus has to “show himself.” The hope of the world told in a fish story! A main but painful part of it is how the disciples had to learn how to do things differently than they preferred. And if this story is an indicator, we might need to stay close to where the hopeless live; whose dreams have turned to nightmares. That’s the original context. And it didn’t prevent a large haul of fish. But it’s where Jesus seems to work best. So John closes his Good News with a sad story about those times when we’re marooned out on the sea in the dark, sensing that we’ve come to the end of something, clueless about what to do next? Ever been there? It’s also about making right what’s gone wrong. So Peter tries to right his wrongs by going fishing. And with a sigh of relief, or resignation, the rest offer to go along too. And now, with no reason to go forward anymore, they go backward to how life used to be.
Sound like the church? So unimaginative. Flinging the nets over the side into the black waters of the Galilee again and again, only to haul them back into the boat dripping wet, as empty as their dreams. “What’s the point?” None of it makes any sense. Even the thing they thought they’re good at, they can’t do anymore. “That night, they caught nothing.” But then at sun-up, a Stranger on the shore wants to know if they’ve “Caught anything?” They shake their heads. “Nooooooo!” “You might try your luck on the other side of the boat.” “Yeah. Yeah.” To humor him, they reluctantly do it. But this time ...THIS time, they’re unable to haul in the net because of all the wiggling fish they’ve caught! See what happens when you listen to the preacher?
Who IS this guy? Only “the beloved disciple figures it out, “It’s the Lord!” And impulsive Peter’s confused. He’s been fishing stripped. So he puts his clothes on, then jumps into the water! Still getting it backwards! But the boat’s too slow, so he swims to Jesus, leaving it to the others to bring the fish. Not a bad thing to do, when you’re perplexed – swim to Jesus. This is the 1st time Peter’s seen the risen Lord. And I sense some hesitation in him. As he gets closer to shore, he slows down, a bit apprehensive about not only denying Jesus, but now denying his calling. This is the second time Jesus interrupts Peter’s fishing vocation, who finally arrives on the beach, to find the first breakfast. Not the last supper. That was the final meal of their old life together in Jerusalem.
Up in the Galilee it’s a resurrection breakfast, the first meal of their new life together, prepared by the only One who knows the recipe: Some bread. A little wine. And fish! For breakfast? It’s not just the menu, because it’s kind of awkward for everybody. I mean, they’re glad to see Jesus, but they know he didn’t just show up for the fun of it. He’s the Host -- offering a hot meal to a much smaller multitude by the sea where he once fed 5000. They chew in silence. Then Jesus nods to Peter and they take off down the beach. “Simon, I need to know if you’re still with me?” And Peter, pained by the question answers: “Yeah Lord. You know I love you.” Anguish in his voice. Jesus says it again and once more for good measure. Three times. Remember that. Each time Peter responds with all the sincerity he can muster. But no more bluster -- that he had at “the last supper.”
Then Jesus does a curious thing -- he changes the metaphor from fish to sheep. From evangelism to ministry. From souls to bodies. “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” John’s Jesus is more interested in nurturing and shepherding than fishing for numbers! Make of that what you will, but anybody can see the connection between Peter’s three-fold confession of Jesus with his triple-denial before the trial. Jesus is giving the church a chance to fill-in the hole it’d dug for itself ... with three big shovelfuls of love. But there’s something more important here than symmetry. Jesus isn’t bringing Peter back where he was before. He’s moving him beyond where he was previously. Good religion always does that. And that’s the only reason this church is still here. Because our predecessors, who had some good religion along the way, responded when Jesus spoke the same words that grabbed Peter in the first place: “Follow me!” Where? Never back to where you were. But always, to where the Spirit leads. And that’s scary stuff, because you don’t know the end at the beginning. But all Jesus wants to know is: If we love him, because if we love him, we’ll follow him.
The Patriots football coach, Bill Belichik, gave a brief graduation message. He said, “In a bacon and egg breakfast, a chicken was involved. But a pig made the commitment. Be a pig!” Jesus said “Be a shepherd!” “Feed his sheep. Tend his lambs.” As it was then, so it is now, the church is better at loving Jesus than following him. So in the 2nd final chapter of the 4th Gospel, Jesus made an encore appearance for the benefit of a wounded fisherman. In the same way he returned to Thomas on Easter night, to move him from doubt to faith. Now he returns to the Galilee for Peter, to move him from faith to action. Jesus is always trying to move his church from where it is, to something better. That’s because life still gets dismal because it’s mostly unfair. To live is to know firsthand about pain and failure, the frustration of lost causes and stabs in the back. That was the condition of the earliest church just after the resurrection of her Lord: Stuck at sea-level; going no place fast.
Somebody added this story to the end of John’s Gospel to remind those of us “who have not seen,” that we’re not alone. And in the midst of all that life bowl’s down our alleys, dealing us the hand we’re dealt, the Risen Christ comes to us in spirit, through pain and joy, our successes and failures, giving us a community called “church,” to lift us up when we’re down and point us to new hope when we’re fresh out of it. Nothing against accountants, but he calls us to be good Shepherds. So he shows up out of nowhere and prepares a table before us. Let us approach his table to eat and drink in the presence of the living Lord, who still expects us to be feeding his little lambs, saying: “Follow me.”
"For those with ears to hear,” there’s this “Voice,” that can turn all our dead ends into new beginnings. And that voice says: “Lemme fix ya’ll somethin’ to eat! Cracker Barrel on the Galilee. And the hope of a fish story.
Pastoral Prayer
We keep thinking church is about how many fish we can catch, but you just want to know if we love you. We tell you we love you but you know we love our things more; getting our way; being safe and secure; having an easy, predictable life. How do we find the strength to leave the old ways behind and step out into something new? It’s easy to love you when you fill our nets with fish and give us what we want. The radiance of your presence only underlines the absence of our faith. Forgive us when we keep letting living take the place of loving.
Show us how to be better shepherds than fishers. Show us how to watch over the flock that’s been entrusted to our care, those who will let us. Once you called us to be disciples, now show us how to be servants of all you place in our path–the stranger, the sick, the lonely, the abused, the grieving and suffering.
We remember all who face difficult decisions, which once they’re made, have definite consequences: for those who do it to themselves, and those who have it done to them by someone else. On this fine day we proclaim with our lips that Jesus is the Son of God! May we leave this place more able to show in our lives that we’re the people of God. With our words, like Simon Peter, we confess our love for you. Enable us with our deeds, also like him, to confess your love for the world. Amen. |
