Rev.
Debbie Cato
John 21:1-19
God
of second chances and God of new life. We
have spent our days wandering. Like Peter, we have milled about through nearly
every state of faith. We have had courageous days and fear-filled days, learning
days and questioning days. We have had days where we run to you, days diving
out of the boat, days of deep joy, and days where the pain of the world feels
too close to bear. So, as we bring our wandering hearts to you, we ask that you
draw us in. Allow this story to spark something new in us. Allow this story of
grace to give us pause and pull us in, closer to you. We are listening. Amen.
Here’s My Heart
This
Sunday, we are finishing our series on Peter with his encounter with the risen
Christ. In this final week, we come full circle with Peter. He has dropped his
nets, walked on water, professed his faith, been rebuked, had his feet washed
by Jesus, denied Jesus three times, and run to the tomb.[1]
And now, Jesus once again meets him at the shoreline where Peter is casting his
nets. They are back to where it all began.
They are back at the shoreline.
Jesus offers abundant nourishment to the disciples and a new command to Peter: “Feed my sheep.” He asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?” It’s as if Jesus says, “Here’s my heart,” which washes over Peter’s three denials like a healing balm. No matter how far we wander, we can trust our hearts to God. No matter if our faith is strong or weak, what we can give is our love.[2]
Today’s scripture reminds me of the times we would go camping and fishing. We would camp beside a cold-water lake and fall asleep to the sounds of frogs croaking and water softly splashing on the shore. I loved the fresh air and the beautiful scenery. I loved how relaxed I felt when I camped; away from my job, household chores, and the demands of life. But I really didn’t like the fishing part. First of all, my husband thought that the best fishing was in the wee hours of the morning – well before it was lawful to be awake. It was always so cold – I just couldn’t warm up. Then, my husband had a rule. We couldn’t talk. He said that you had to be quiet and just sit and wait for the fish to bite. Now he could sit there for hours but me… well, fishing just wasn’t that fun. So most mornings, I would stay snuggled in my sleeping bag while he went fishing by himself. It was a win-win. He could sit and wait for the fish to bite without listening to me whine and complain; without telling me to stop talking. I could stay warm and sleep until it was the “right” time to get up and start the day.
But boy, I sure loved waking up to the crackling sound of freshly caught fish frying in the pan. There was nothing quite like the smell of fresh trout cooking over the camp fire early in the morning. I would crawl out of my sleeping bag for that. Fried trout and eggs– the perfect breakfast in the crisp early morning air of the campsite. There’s something about food cooked over a campfire and eating outside that makes it taste better. Makes me hungry just thinking about it!
That’s what I think of when I read this passage in John’s Gospel - a fish fry at the lake. The story of the resurrected Christ’s fish fry for his friends conjures up sounds and smells from my past.
We read, “After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias.” We are talking about things that have happened since Jesus’ resurrection according to John’s Gospel. Christ rose from the dead and the resurrected Christ showed himself to Mary Magdalene who was weeping at the tomb on Easter morning. That same evening, he came to his disciples who were locked in a room, paralyzed with fear. A week after that, Jesus appeared to his disciples again, this time for the benefit of Thomas whose doubt got in the way of his belief. And now, after these things, Jesus shows up again, at the same place where he first called his disciples to follow him; the same place where Jesus miraculously fed the five thousand. The resurrected Christ shows up in Galilee, to find his disciples fishing in the Sea.
Now this may seem strange to us. After seeing the resurrected Christ, the disciples are back at their old line of work without any indication of how the events in Jerusalem changed their lives. Surely, they didn’t just pick up where they left off – before Jesus called them to follow him, before they spent three years under his teaching, seeing him perform miracles and challenging the religious leaders. Surely, they didn’t just forget the horrific events of Jesus’ arrest and crucifixion! Surely, they didn’t ignore his resurrection and the time they spent with the risen Christ! Surely, they just didn’t go back to their old lives as fishermen as if nothing had happened!
John’s Gospel leaves us wondering these things, but if we look at the Gospel of Matthew or the Gospel of Mark we can make sense of it. The disciples received a message from an angel telling them to return to Galilee. The angel says, “Go to Galilee. You will see Jesus there.”
So, they headed to Galilee. I imagine that while they were waiting for Jesus, they decided to go fishing. To do something they were familiar with; to put some normalcy into their lives. I imagine that they got into one of the fishing boats and cast their nets to catch some fish and then they sat back, each wrapped up in their own thoughts. I imagine that after all the drama of the preceding week they appreciated the quiet of the sea. I imagine that as they waited for Jesus, they quietly tried to wrap their minds around everything that had happened; everything that had been revealed to them. The last few days had been an emotional roller-coaster. In a matter of a week, they had been lifted up to the giddy heights of Palm Sunday, sent spiraling down into the utter depths of despair on Good Friday, and then been swept up again to the heavens by the glory of the resurrection.
They fish all night – the best time for fishing in the Sea of Galilee, yet the trip proved fruitless. They didn’t catch a thing. Not a single fish landed in their net. As they return to shore in the dim wee hours of the morning, a stranger hails them from shore. “Hey lads…haven’t caught any fish, have you? Try there on the right side of your boat and you’ll catch some!” Odd as it seems, they take his advice - this stranger, and they toss the net over the right side of the boat and it immediately fills with so many fish – big fish at that, that they can’t haul the net in.
When the disciples get to shore, Jesus is waiting for them, hunched over a campfire, cooking fish and bread. “Come and have breakfast,” he says. The disciples ask no questions. They know who he is. Jesus could have put on a show, but he didn’t. He could have rocked them and shockedthem, and showed them that he was the death-defeating king of the world, but he takes another tack. He feeds them.
A cooked breakfast of fresh fish awaits them on the beach, exactly what they need after a long, fruitless night on the Sea. Graciously, Jesus invites them to contribute from ‘their’ catch which they have struggled to land and bring ashore. They take the time to count the catch – 153 whoppers! And the net didn’t even break.
To speak of Jesus’ provision, inevitably links this celebration meal with the one they had shared only a few days before in the upper room. There, Jesus took bread and a cup, just as he now took bread and fish, and he distributed it to them. That meal, he taught them, expressed the sacrifice of his body and blood on the cross. But, what they really did not under-stand then, they now see with new clarity. Jesus’ ultimate provision was giving himself on the cross, to cleanse away sins and to provide nourishment with the new life of the kingdom of God.
A holy wonder falls upon the disciples. In awestruck silence they eat the fish that Jesus’ has prepared for them. They get it.
After breakfast, Jesus confronts Peter. Jesus asks Peter three separate times, "Do you love me?" We have come to understand this as Jesus’ way of canceling out each one of Peter's shameful denials of Jesus on the night he was arrested and betrayed. The self-loathing that Peter must have felt. The guilt, the shame would have been overwhelming. Jesus’ knows that Peter must fully experience forgiveness. It is this forgiveness that clears the way for Peter to fully and completely serve Jesus. Peter restored is Peter re-commissioned.
But Jesus' persistence demonstrates more than the scorekeeping of rights and wrongs. There is something bigger at stake here. The risen Christ ties each of Peter's confessions of love for him to a repeated command -- "Care for my sheep." Jesus’ concern is not just for Peter’s welfare and self-confidence; he is genuinely concerned for his church. Peter is directed to his work: “Feed my lambs, take care of my sheep, feed my sheep.”
What took Peter three times to get --and what takes all of us a lifetime to practice -- is that Jesus' question about "loving" and his command about "feeding" are one command. Peter didn't understand immediately the implications of what it means to love Christ. Truly loving Christ means feeding the sheep -- it means loving, protecting, caring for all those whom Christ loves.
"Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my lambs"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then tend my sheep"; "Peter do you love me?" -- "Then feed my sheep." Loving Christ and loving and tending Christ's flock are one and the same thing.
In this passage, Jesus brings the disciples back to where it all began, seeing it now through eyes which have been opened by the experience of the years with Jesus but mostly, by his death and resurrection. He calls them to reaffirm that first commitment.
The graciousness of this breakfast communion with Jesus is overwhelming. These are ordinary men whom Jesus invited to his table of fellowship that day. Jesus’ provision for his disciples is thoroughly practical. Just as in the upper room when he took a basin and towel and ministered to his disciples’ practical needs, so in the lakeshore breakfast, his provision is similarly down-to-earth.
In Jesus’ preparation of this meal for his disciples, he confirms that he is the giver of gifts; the source of life-sustaining nourishment. The magnitude of the catch confirms the abundance of Jesus’ gifts. And the fellowship of the meal, confirms the intimacy of the relationship between the risen Lord and his disciples.
This same provision; this same fellowship with the risen Christ is available today – for you and for me. It is a practical relationship, expressed amid the everyday. It is based on Christ’s initiative and our willingness to put all our dependence on Christ rather than on our own abilities.
But with this intimate fellowship we share with Christ; with our declaration of love, comes a command. “Do you love me?” he asks. “Then tend my sheep.” Amen.
[1] Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity. Sanctified Art. The Second Sunday of Easter. Theme Connections.
[2] Rev. Lisle Gwynn Garrity. Sanctified Art. The Second Sunday of Easter. Theme Connections.
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