Third Sunday of Easter, 2010

John 21: 1-19

Excerpt: Vs. 1-6.

After these things, Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, ‘I am going fishing.’ They said to him, ‘We will go with you.’ They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, ‘Children, you have no fish, have you?’ They answered him, ‘No.’ He said to them, ‘Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.’ So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish.

 Vs. 15-19

 …When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.’ (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this, he said to him, ‘Follow me.’

I have a love/hate relationship with change. I love the way change brings new experiences, new skills, new interactions and new ways of beholding God, others and myself. What I hate about change is that there is often a transition period, a period in between the old and the new where it feels like everything is just on the edge of unraveling, a time that can be terribly lonely and filled with uncertainty and frustration. Even if the change was one that was longed for and sought for, the challenges, loneliness and insecurity within transition can make you ache for the familiar ground of what was before.  In the transition desert, it’s difficult to maintain a vision of the goodness and rightness of change. It’s easy to feel self-doubt and wonder where God is in the transition shift. People can be forgiven for trying to recreate the familiar in new circumstances where the spiritual landscape is strange and old routines have been upset.

The disciples in this gospel were in transition. Yes, they had seen Jesus, knew he was alive and knew everything had changed – again. You’d think that after three years of following Jesus, they would be used to profound change and accustomed to handling exceedingly unfamiliar situations but this was radically different. Before he died, Jesus was with them in the flesh, all the time. Even though all sorts of boggling, exciting and challenging things had been happening, Jesus himself was their constant. They knew they could come to him face to face, ask him questions and get answers, even if they didn’t understand a lot of the answers. Jesus was larger than life, full of confidence, able to handle the trickiest people. Every once in a while Jesus would go off to pray or send them out to do some ministry but in the end, they knew where to find him.

So, as joyful as they were to know that Jesus wasn’t dead, it was still very confusing to know how to proceed and what to do. Jesus was alive, yeah, but where was he? They couldn’t just turn around at any given moment and say, “Hey, Jesus. What did you mean about the yeast? How come you spoke to that woman? What do you mean you call God ‘Papa’? How come Peter sank like a rock?” In fact, right at the time they were at the Sea of Tiberias, they were probably remembering all the times of immediate contact they had with Jesus in the past and how they squandered it and took it for granted. They may have been thinking of all the questions they could have asked or all the lessons he taught that they should have paid closer attention to. They probably reminisced about the times of laughter in the evenings as they sat around the fire listening to Jesus tell them about the Father or the times when they all walked along singing the psalms together. Maybe they were thinking of how precious it had been to belong to such a community with their beloved Master. What they wouldn’t give to go back to those days of walking by Jesus’ side! They were good days. They were blessed days. Now, even though they knew Jesus was alive, there were moments of overwhelming homesickness for the days when things didn’t seem so complex and spirituality didn’t seem to demand so much faith and courage, the days when Jesus was there to look after them, calm their fears and keep them grounded. It was completely different now.

We’ve all been there. You got your first career job and suddenly you were the newbie, the neophyte who knew nothing and felt so insecure but you couldn’t quit because you realized you were the one who was responsible for rent and food now, not your parents…You got married and after your first major bitter argument with your husband you realized you couldn’t go home to cool off because where you were was your home now and you were stuck… You had your first baby and the whole world turned upside down and inside out and you couldn’t go home to Mom because you were Mom…you moved to a new town and you were anonymous and alone and nobody at Mass reached out to welcome you…  Yes, we’ve all been there, so we can all totally relate to what Peter decided to do.

Go fishing.

Fishing was what Peter knew. Before Jesus came and turned everything upside down, he was a fisherman and when he was fishing, he was in control. He knew how to handle the boat, he knew how to deal with the nets and he was at home on the water. He could give orders and men followed those orders.  In his loneliness and confusion, he turned back to the familiar and the known. It probably felt very comforting to be in that boat doing what he knew how to do but after awhile something became apparent. No fish. All night they fished and caught nothing. In the spiritual walk with Jesus, you can’t go back. No matter how uncomfortable the present feels and no matter how murky and confusing the future looks, you can’t go back. Not if you desire to grow and flourish.

Jesus appeared on the shore and said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?”  He was so gentle and so loving with these men. He knew how they were grieving for the past and he didn’t blame them one bit. What he did was tell them to cast their net on the right side of the boat and he filled their nets to overflowing. It was a gift but also a lesson. “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.” Unless the Lord sends you fishing, it’s probably not going to do much good to look for the old boats to go fishing.

At one time, Jesus filled Peter’s nets and then told him that from then on he would be a Fisher of People. Later he told Peter he would be a Rock for his Church. On the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, he told Peter three times to feed his lambs and sheep. He was telling Peter he was a Shepherd.  “Unless the Lord builds the house…” Unless the Lord speaks your name – Rock, Fisher, Shepherd, Voice in the Wilderness, Warrior, Counselor, Teacher, Breach Mender, Builder, Comforter etc.– your labor will distract you and keep you busy but your nets will be empty. In times of transition we need to learn to wait on the appearance of the Lord and listen for the Name he calls us by. 

Anatole France, a Nobel Prize winner for literature, said this: “All changes, even the most longed for, have their melancholy; for what we leave behind us is a part of ourselves; we must die to one life before we can enter another.”

We are allowed to grieve for the past; indeed, it is healthy and good to grieve over, love and honor all that has shaped us so far. It is part of the dieing and letting go process. But we must not forget that where we are ultimately moving is forward into new life. When we read this week’s gospel, it is hard to ignore the fact that the changes that bring new life involve taking risks. Nobody can deny that completely trusting in God when the unfamiliar threatens to swamp us and overwhelm us is very risky. The risk lies in the fact that when something is new it cannot be easily visualized or actualized by us. Only the Lord can create what is truly new. What we tend to create is a rehash of what we’ve always known.

Here’s an unattributed quote I read recently that I think is very comforting and brilliantly true. I can hear the voice of my God coming through:

Everything will be okay in the end.

If it’s not okay, it’s not the end.