Scriptures: Acts
9:1-20, Psalm 30
Revelation 5:11-14 John 21:1-25
Today we have two very different post-resurrection
appearances of Jesus – that of Jesus to Peter and some of the disciples along
the Sea of Galilee, and that of Jesus in a vision to Saul on the road to
Damascus. They are different because of
the nature of the people to whom Jesus appeared – in the case of Peter, a
disciple who, when he felt threatened, had turned his back on Jesus – and in
the case of Saul, one who was violently threatening the followers of Jesus.
The post-resurrection appearances of Jesus have an odd,
ethereal quality to them. Jesus is the
same as before the crucifixion, and yet not the same. Of course, he’s not the same because of the
marks of the nails in his hands and that of the spear in his side, which he
showed to his disciples. But there’s
also a theme that those who encounter Jesus don’t immediately recognize him –
Mary mistakes him for the gardener; the Emmaus road disciples don’t know who
they’re talking to until they’re at table with the stranger they met on the
road, and the disciples don’t immediately recognize Jesus in today’s story
either. As the story begins, it seems
that the while the disciples are still hanging out together, in some ways
they’ve gone back to their old lives, Peter and the others back to the fishing
business they had pursued before they met Jesus. But the fish are not jumping; instead,
they’re hiding, and after a night of fishing they have nothing to show for
their efforts.
I was at my monthly meeting of pastors last week, and we
discussed this story, and one of the pastor commented that it has a kind of
dreamlike quality to it – while we’re in the dream, the dream makes perfect
sense, and yet the dream has a logic to it that may not make sense after we
wake up. On one hand, the story of the
disciples fishing all night, catching nothing, and encountering a stranger to
tells them to try fishing in a different spot and then being swamped with fish
is very similar to how the disciples first encountered Jesus in Luke’s gospel,
when Jesus told them, “Follow me, and I will make you fishers of men” – the
story of the disciples’ call in Luke chapter 5 and this story of their
encounter with the Risen Christ in John chapter 21 are like bookends to Jesus’
ministry; today’s gospel reading brings their time with Jesus full circle. Of
course, the catch of fish reminds the disciples of their first encounter with
Jesus, and the disciple whom Jesus loved – the writer of John’s gospel – cried
out, “It is the Lord!” Peter became so
excited he didn’t know what to do with himself, didn’t know whether he wanted
to run to embrace Jesus or hide from him; as it was, he put his clothes on and
jumped in the water, looking rather silly in the process. The others drag the boat, now full of fish,
to shore. We’re told there were 153
large fish, and yet, we’re told, the net was not torn. And here’s where, for me, the dreamlike
quality of the story is strong: Jesus already has a charcoal fire going, and
fish and bread on the fire – where did they come from? I should note that the last time Peter had
been at a charcoal fire was when he was warming himself by the fire after
Jesus’ arrest, when he denied Jesus. Jesus invited the disciples to add some of
their fish to the ones Jesus already had on the fire, and to “Come and have
breakfast.” There’s that odd note again
about Jesus being recognizable, John tells us that “nobody dared ask him “Who
are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.”
But they wouldn’t have even considered the question if there hadn’t been
some change in Jesus’ appearance from what they remembered before – they
recognized Jesus through his actions, not his appearance. As they shared the fish and bread around, the
disciples may have been reminded of when Jesus fed the five thousand with just
a few fish and loaves of bread, or when Jesus blessed the bread, broke it, and
shared it with his disciples at the Last Supper. So this was like old times, and yet
different, both because Jesus was different somehow and because it was the last
time in John’s gospel the disciples encounter the Risen Christ.
The description of the large catch of fish, 153 in all, yet
without the net being torn, may also be John’s way of describing the early
church – remember Jesus had earlier said that they would fish for people. The analogy would be to large numbers of
people, a motley, mixed group, coming into the fellowship of the church, and
yet without the church breaking up or falling apart under the strain of so many
new arrivals. It’s a hopeful image, that
the church of Jesus Christ is strong enough to withstand the strains that come
when new people and new groups seek to join – the net is not torn, but is
strong enough to contain and manage the strain of new relationships
And then a conversation between Jesus and Peter begins. Even though they were together again, there
was brokenness and strain in the relationship because of Peter’s denials of
Jesus. Peter still carried that guilt,
and Jesus had to bring Peter to know that he was forgiven, and to forgive
himself. So Jesus asks Peter, “Simon,
son of John, do you love me more than these?”
And Peter says, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus responds, “Feed my lambs.” A second and a third time the question comes,
and Peter feels pain when Jesus asks the third time – Jesus’ asking Peter three
times to affirm his love for Jesus reminds Peter of his three denials of Jesus
at the time of his arrest. There are
also some subtleties in the Greek that get lost in translation to English. The first two times when Jesus asks Peter if
he love him, he uses the word for agape
love, the self-giving love of God for humans and the kind of love God asks of
us. Peter responds in both cases by
saying, Yes, Lord, you know that I love you – using the word philia, meaning brotherly love – it’s
where our city’s name came from. The
third time Jesus moves to Peters level, uses Peter’s word – Do you love me – philia – do you love me like a
brother? And Peter says, “You know all
things, you know that I love you like a
brother.” In all three cases, Jesus
asked Peter to demonstrate his love through his actions – feed my lambs, tend
my sheep, feed my sheep. Just as the
disciples recognized Jesus not by his appearance but by his actions, Peter’s
love for Christ was to be shown not by words alone, but by actions. Jesus told Peter that his Peter’s love for
Jesus would be costly, that he would die a martyr’s death. And
then he said to Peter, as he had said to Peter when he first called the
disciples, “Follow me.”
This was a painful conversation for Peter, but Jesus knew it
was a necessary conversation. Peter
would have preferred that Jesus had been silent about his denial, but then
Peter would have continued to carry that guilt.
Jesus knew that Peter could not move forward in faith until he knew that
his failure had been forgiven. And
that’s how it is for us sometimes. We’re
wired instinctively either to use force to make pain stop, or to run from
pain. I tend toward the latter – I’ve
said more than once that I hate difficult confrontations with the passion of a
thousand burning suns. And yet,
sometimes, when relationship is broken, the only way to healing is through
difficult but necessary conversation, to acknowledge pain and failure and offer
and receive forgiveness. We can learn
from Jesus’ conversation with Peter in navigating the difficult relationships
in our own lives.
In our reading from Acts, Paul’s relationship with Jesus
starts from a very difficult place – Saul, as he was known before his vision of
Jesus, was trying to arrest the followers of Jesus, was trying to shut down the
church. We’re told that he “breathed
threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.” He had arrest warrants for any in Damascus
who followed in the Way of Jesus, and he wanted them killed, as he had earlier
watched the stoning of Stephen, the first martyr, with approval.
It may sound barbaric, this business of arresting and
murdering people because of their beliefs, a relic of its time, a relic some
two thousand years behind us. And yet
this impulse to do violence to people of differing beliefs is sadly very much
with us today. We can easily point to
the actions of the Islamic fundamentalist group ISIS in arresting and beheading
those they considered nonbelievers, and those in Saudi Arabia who do the same,
and we consider their actions barbaric – and they are! But we must also remember that the same
impulse that drove Saul and the members of ISIS and those in Saudi Arabia is
the same impulse that drove those who opened fire on Muslim worshippers in a
New Zealand mosque, the same impulse that led to the bombing of Christian
churches in Sri Lanka during Easter services, the same impulse that has led to
a number of shootings at synagogues in our country in recent years, such as the
Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh six months ago and the Chabad of Poway
synagogue in the suburbs of San Diego, when a nice, cleancut Presbyterian boy,
one John T Earnest, a nursing student, a member of the ultra-fundamentalist Escondido
Orthodox Presbyterian Church – several church splits and splinter groups
removed from the much larger and entirely mainstream Presbyterian Church USA of
which Bridesburg Presbyterian was a member congregation - opened fire on
worshippers as they were at Shabbat sabbath services on the last day of the
holy festival of Passover. John Earnest
wasn’t some stereotypical scruffy, drooling mentally-fried middle-aged meth-head,
missing teeth and brain cells - he was a clean-cut young man, age 19, just
entering adulthood, just starting out in life, going to school to be a healer. Had he shown up here for Easter services, I’d
have been only too happy to welcome him to worship and stay for coffee
afterward. And yet John T Earnest had
death in his heart. The impulse that drove
John Earnest is also the same impulse that has led to lynchings and attacks on
women and gay-bashings over the decades in our country. It’s the impulse – the evil impulse – that
says that my relationship with God empowers me to attack and kill those who
experience God in a different way, those of different faiths or those of no
articulated faith, those whose race or gender or sexual orientation is
different from mine. It’s the impulse
that says that one can express love and devotion to God through hate and
violence toward others created in God’s image, hate and violence toward others
of God’s children, the impulse that says, “God told me to hate you.” But God is love, and love is the “new
commandment” Christ gave his followers. The impulse to express religious devotion and
enforce religious orthodoxy through violence toward others is an impulse that
must be condemned at all times and in all places: our violence brings God no glory. The violence done by John T Earnest brought
no glory to the name of Jesus Christ, only shame, only questions about what
teachings he heard, about what gospel he heard, from the pulpit of his church.
Saul encountered a vision of the Risen Christ asking him,
“Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?”
Saul asked, “Who are you, Lord?” Saul was told, “I am Jesus, whom you
are persecuting, but get up and enter the city, and you’ll be told what to
do.” Saul had approached the city
prepared to do violence, now, blinded by his encounter with Jesus, he had to
submit meekly to being led by the hand. We’re
told that in Damascus was a believer named Ananias. He heard the Lord giving him directions to
find a man of Tarsus called Saul. And Ananias was appalled, recounting to God
how much evil Saul had done to the church.
But God told Ananias that Saul was God’s instrument, and would suffer
greatly for the name of Jesus. And
Ananias’ response is remarkable: he went
to the house where Saul was staying, called him brother, and laid his hands on
Saul and prayed that he might receive both his sight and the Holy Spirit. And Saul was baptized – it’s striking, no
long period of instruction, just a change of heart. And, of course, we know that the letters of
Saul, later called Paul, make up a large proportion of the New Testament. We can
only wonder how Saul would be different, how our world would be different, how
our lives here at Emanuel would be different, had Saul not experienced
forgiveness and welcome and hospitality and Christian love from Ananias. Saul began by breathing threats and murder,
and by his vision of Christ was rendered as meek as a lamb – and later empowered
to preached boldly but nonviolently the name of Jesus.
It’s important to remember that the encounters with Peter
and with Saul were initiated by Jesus.
Christ calls us – and calls us and calls us and calls us – before we can
respond. The call of Christ may begin as
a vivid one-time event, Peter being swamped with more fish than he knew what to
do with or Saul being blinded and knocked off his horse on the Damascus
road. We may have vivid events, turning points, in
our lives, moments where we can describe our surroundings and all that
happened, that we can point to as places where Christ met us and called
us. And if this service, or any worship
service or event here at Emanuel is a turning point for anyone, let me know,
and I can pray with you following worship for God’s guidance to turn to Christ
for salvation. Or for others, brought up in the church, we may not be able to
point to any moment, but only to Christ who is beside us at every moment on the
journey.
But even after that initial response, Jesus continues to
call us, as he called Peter to feed his lambs and tend his sheep, as he called
Saul to preach the Gospel to the known world, especially to the Gentiles, as he
called Ananias to open his heart to Saul, who had been a fierce enemy of the
church, but was now God’s chosen instrument.
At the time of his call, Peter or Saul or even Ananias didn’t know where
God would lead, only that It was God who led them, and that God who led them is
faithful. While we remember with
gratitude the turning points in our lives, God does not call us to get stuck in
that moment or to cling to it, but to follow where Jesus leads. Christ leads us from isolation into community
with others who we come to call our brothers and sisters, brothers and sisters
who will walk with us on our journey through life. And those around us will recognize Christ in
us through our actions, as the disciples recognized the Risen Christ through
his actions in their final encounter with him.
Jesus calls us o’er the tumult of our life’s wild, restless
sea. Softly and tenderly Jesus is
calling, calling to you and to me. Come
unto me ye weary, and Christ will give you rest. May we respond to Christ’s call, and where
Jesus leads, may we follow. Amen.
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