A
In John’s
Gospel, the Jesus Story ends beside the Sea of Galilee where for the Twelve it had all begun. The events of
Holy Week had left the Disciples exhausted and confused. Their
master and Lord had been crucified.
Have you seen
Gibson’s The Passion of
the Christ? If
you have and it strengthened your faith; I am glad. The Passion
did not do that for Peter and the Disciples.
For 50 years, I
have contemplated the meaning of the Cross – I have read the
Scriptures, studied theology, sung the hymns – but I find it
hard to believe the Crucifixion was the will of God. So did the
Disciples. For them, it had not been a good Friday. It had been a
day not of triumph but of horror and tragedy.
Eventually, the
Cross did became the symbol of their faith, but the Crucifixion
itself absolutely devastated them. It left them angry, despondent, bitter
and afraid.
Easter had been
a much better day. On
Easter, they began to sense that all was not lost. The Easter
stories in the Gospels are detailed and dramatic, but they were
written long after that first Easter and were undoubtedly
influenced by later events and faith encounters with the Risen
Lord.
What exactly
happened that first Easter remains a mystery, but clearly
something happened which convinced the Disciplesthat somehow Jesus
had been raised, had triumphed over death, and that the enemies of Jesus had not had
the last word; God had.
Easter was a
wonderful day, but perplexing, too. Obviously, it was day of
vindication for Jesus. And it validated what they believed about
Jesus. But it was far from clear what it meant for their lives.
Where should they go? What
should they do?
Easter Sunday
is like that for us, too, isn’t it. The church is crowded, the
flowers beautiful, the music glorious. We sing our alleluias and
celebrate Christ’s resurrection. But then it is over and we ask
ourselves, what does all this mean for my life? For the Disciples,
Easter was a great day, but it wasn’t enough; and it isn’t
for us. After Easter,
they packed up and went back to the Galilee.
When we are
emotionally drained, when we are confused,
we often retreat to those places where we feel safe and to
doing those things we feel confident we can handle.
Located on the
north shore of the Sea of Galilee, the little fishing village of
Capernaum was home. Fishing was what most of them knew how to do.
So one evening, Peter said, “I am going fishing.” (v. 3a) The others said, “We’ll go with
you.” (v. 3b) Experienced
fishermen though they were, they fished all night but caught
nothing.
A man said to
his wife, “Why do you call it shopping, when you spend hours and
hours, and buy nothing?” She shot back, “Why do you call it
fishing, when you spend hours and hours, and catch nothing?”
Well, the Disciples fished all night and
caught nothing. Then, just as
dawn was breaking, a stranger called to them from the shore, “Do
you have any fish?” “No,”
they replied.
In a scene
reminiscent of the first time they met Jesus, the man tells them
to cast their net on the other side of the boat. Suddenly, their
net was so full they could hardly haul it in. “Good Lord!”
exclaimed John. With
that Peter dove in and swam to shore. Less impulsive, but maybe wiser, the
others rowed in with the catch. Jesus already
had a fire going. “Bring some of the fish you caught.” They
lugged the net up on the beach. “Come and have breakfast,”
said Jesus. For the disciples, it was just like old times. None of them spoke, afraid to break the
spell.
But for Jesus,
this was not just Sunday brunch. It was a business meeting; there
was work to do. He had a message for Peter, but not just for
Peter. He turned to Peter and asked, “Simon, son of John—Simon
Johnson—do you love me more than these?” More than this
place? More than these hills? More than fishing?
More than eating? More than these good friends? More than
home and family? Three times he asks. Three times Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love
you.” Jesus says,
“Well, then, feed my lambs. Tend my sheep.
Feed my sheep. If you love me, continue my ministry. Do the
things you saw me doing to help people, to feed and care for
people, to heal people, to teach them, inspire them, challenge
them.”
The Risen
Christ was asking them to let him live in them and work through
them. Here was the word they had been waiting for, one that gave
meaning to their lives and can give meaning to our lives, too.
This last story
in John’s Gospel reminds us that Jesus wants us, needs us to do
his work.
Will you let my love be shown,
will you let my name be known,
will you let my life be grown
in
you and you in me?
Easter means
new life not just for him but for us. When we listen to the Risen
Christ and answering his call, we are raised up, our lives are
given direction and purpose,
and the Cross is transformed into a symbol of life and
hope. That’s what happened to Peter and the
Disciples.
The Roman
Catholic Church has always seen this passage as one more
indication that Jesus anointed Peter to lead the Church. I do not
think this is the meaning of this passage, although I do hear in
it a message for church leaders. We who are Peter’s successors
– bishops, priests, ministers -- have a responsibility to take
care of the flock entrusted to us. But I hear in this story a
broader, richer message. Our caring may begin in the church but it
shouldn’t end there.
Jesus’
ministry was never limited to just his followers or the righteous
or his own race, religion or clan. Nor should our outreach and ministry. It is a message
that is broader and more personal, too. It is a message not just
for Peter but for you and me. And that is a good thing, a gracious
gift of our Lord.
Isn’t it true
that all of us want our lives to matter. We want what we can do to
make a difference. We know, as they knew, that Jesus was unique.
He is the Christ; he is our Savior and Lord. In and through him,
we have received the grace, mercy, and love of God. Now we ask,
what can I do? How can I help? We want Jesus to give us our
marching orders just as he did Peter and Disciples.
Years ago, when
I was in a church youth group, I remember our leader asking the
question, “If you died tonight, what would your life have
meant?” Like most teenagers, I hadn’t thought much about
death, mine or anyone else’s, and I hadn’t given a lot of
thoughtto what I would do with my life, but that got me thinking
about my life, my faith, my Lord and what I could do. For me, it
led to a calling and a career as a pastor.
It could have
led to other worthwhile vocations: Teaching, scientific research,
medicine, public service. There are so many needs and so many
possibilities. Work is about much more than just earning a
paycheck, as necessary and important as I know money is in our
society. Doing something useful gives us a sense
of self-worth.
In retirement,
I have come to realized that being able to do something useful,
something to make life and the world better, is still important to
me and always will be. The good news is that even in our old age, God calls us and Christ commissions us.
Dr. Jack
McConnell made this discovery, too. I heard him speak at a
hospital conference a few years ago. He said that when he was
growing up in the rural south, and the family would gather round
the dinner table each night, his Methodist preacher father would
always ask him and his six brothers and sisters the same question,
“And what did you do for someone
today?”
After a long
and successful career in medical research, he and his wife retired
to gated community on Hilton Head Island and what he expected to
be an enjoyable life of golf and leisure. But as he drove around
the island, he was struck by the contrast between his lifestyle
and that of the natives. He discovered that the vast majority of
the maids, gardeners, and other workers on the island had little
access to medical care. His father’s question kept coming back
to him. He decided to start a medical clinic staffed by retired
physicians. In 1994, land was donated, a building erected, and
what he calls Volunteers in Medicine began. Last year, they had 16,000 patient
visits.
He says his
golf handicap has gone up and his leisure time down, but his
energy level has increased and life is more satisfying. “In one
of the paradoxes of life,” he says, “I have benefited more from Volunteers in Medicine than my
patients have.” I believe the
question his father use to ask him is the question Jesus was
asking Peter and is asking us: “And what have you done for someone
today?”
I like the way
William Sloan Coffin, former pastor of Riverside Church, put it
when he said, “Socrates was wrong. It is not the unexamined life
but the uncommitted life that is finally not worth living.” And that is true whatever your age.
When Jesus
appeared to Peter by the sea, he was not looking for a verbal
affirmation. Years before, Peter had affirmed his faith in Christ.
Now he says once again, “Lord, you know that I love you.”
Jesus came to ask Peter and us to lead a life of loving service.
“If you love me, feed my lambs…tend my sheep…feed my
sheep.” And for John, these words not only reminded Peter of his
call, but also defined the central task of
every follower of Jesus.
The poet Annie
Johnson Flint put it this way:
Christ has no hand but our hands
To do His work today;
He has no feet but our feet
To lead persons in His way;
He has no tongue but our tongues
To tell them how He died;
He has no help but our help
To bring them to His side.
The Good News
for Peter and for us is that Jesus invites us to share his life,
to let his spirit live in us and to reach out to touch the lives
of those who are around us. For Peter, the Cross itself did not
give life meaning. Nor did Easter, though he rejoiced in
Christ’s resurrection. He got a new life when Jesus spoke these
words to him: “Feed my lambs; tend my sheep; feed my sheep.”
Those were the words that empowered him and gave his life purpose
and direction. And they can do that for us.
O Lord, we thank you for the life you led
and for helping us to get a life.
Amen.