Sermon for the Lord’s Day

Sunday, April 18, 2010

Rev. Lorelei Hillman

John 21:1-19

“What’s for Breakfast?”

What did you have for breakfast this morning:

·         Eggs

·         Bacon

·         Toast or English muffin

·         Pancakes

·         Cereal (hot or cold)

·         Leftover spaghetti

·         Fish?!

The story in our Scripture text for today puts a whole new spin on breakfast as the most important meal of the day!

Our story begins some months after Jesus has been crucified and has risen – in the meantime, he has made two other appearances to the disciples.  The danger factor for his followers is still very high, so Jesus’ they’ve left Jerusalem and scattered; only seven appear in this story.  The disciples did what we do when life gets turned upside down, we go home.  Although the disciples had seen the risen Christ, he was clearly not with them now the way he had been; he was coming and going and even those who had seen him may well have doubted later what exactly they had experienced.

They did what we do when we are grieving – they get busy, go back to familiar work.  It’s a comfort.  Life must go on, and the only model they had without Jesus was what they were doing before he broke into their lives.  So they go for an early morning sail.  Anyone here like to fish?  What would it have been like, what sensations?  The smell of the water.  The sound of sea birds and the boat.  The sun coming up.  Good, honest work as they throw out the net and gather it in.  But the net keeps coming up empty.  It’s warm enough that they remove their outer garments.  They’re probably beginning to work up a sweat.  Still, there are no fish in the net when they pull it in.

They haven’t gone far from shore.  These are not happy fishermen.  They are discouraged and exhausted.  They haven’t been sleeping well.  It may be that they were catching flack from folks at home – after all, they’d gone gallivanting off after this Jesus character, and what had become of him but an ugly death on a Roman cross.  Sure, their families still loved them, and the whole thing would eventually blow over, but in the meantime, they caught the stares and snide comments.

Away from town they can relax, so they’re sailing and they’re fishing, but nothing much is happening.  Then, just on the shore, they see some guy.  He’s mocking them a bit, they can tell.  He calls them “children.”  He can obviously see they haven’t caught anything, does he have to rub it in?  Who knows why they listened to him and threw their nets on the other side of the boat – maybe out of sheer tiredness.  Maybe because, well, why not if it would get him off their case?

The net barely hits the water before they can feel the tug of it filling up.  They look around at each other, eyebrows lifting.  One or two glance back over their shoulders at the man on shore.  Thanks, friend!  They break into smiles and get to work.  Fish are heavy, it takes all seven of them to sort the net out and get it ready to pull back in.  Even as they lift and pull, they can feel this is an amazing catch!  Whooping and hollering to each other, they lean into the weight of the wet net, spilling fish into the boat around their feet.

The 'disciple Jesus loved' (probably John) looks toward shore again, and, recognizing Jesus says, "It's the Lord!"  Simon Peter's eyes fly open and he jerks straight up, dropping the net.  He whips around and squints toward shore – of course!  It’s Jesus who’s standing there!!  Of course!  Grabbing up his clothes, impetuous as always, Peter leaps out of the boat.  The other men, also recognizing Jesus, shout at Peter, shout at Jesus.  The day is suddenly full of heart and joy!

Jesus must be laughing!  How good to be back with his friends again!  How good to see them happy and busy, alive and well.  Come on in, he shouts, let’s have some breakfast.  I’ll get the fire started and put some food on.

Let me just say, I hate camping.  All the camping we did when I was a kid was in the desert.  We drove for hours and hours to get to campsites that looked just like our back yard, then slept on rocks and sand.  Sand got into everything, especially our food.  Biscuits, chili, eggs, vegetables, it was all full of grit.  Is it better by the lakeshore?  I don’t know…  But it was nothing this crew couldn’t handle – they’d been on the road for three years, and in those days travel mostly meant camping.

So they get to shore and Jesus has fish in the pan and bread to share.  The men drag their boat, heavy with their catch, up on the beach and begin to unload.  Jesus invites them to add to the meal with their fresh catch.

They must have had a great time, probably sharing ‘remember when’ stories around the fire, their stomachs filling with good food, their hearts filling with good friends.  Then it’s time to get back to work – there’s a whole boatload of fish to be prepared, to be taken back to town for families and the market.

Jesus takes Simon Peter aside.  It’s the first time since his arrest that the two men have had a real chance to talk.  While Peter’s heart had longed for this moment, he had to have been dreading it as well.  If you’ve ever had a “come to Jesus moment” when you had to face someone you love and admit hurting them, you may have some sympathy for Peter.  What would Jesus say to him?  Would he call him out for denying his Lord?  Would he drive Peter’s guilt down deeper?

Surely, Jesus first question went straight through Peter’s heart: “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”  We all know, don’t we, what it means when someone uses our full name – that’s right, it means you’re in trouble…  And what is Jesus asking?  Peter, do you love me more than you love the other disciples.  These are your friends, the men you left Jerusalem with, and you’ve stayed together after all you’ve been through.  Do you love me, Jesus asks, more than you love them?

Why this question?  Why not, What do you think, Peter; is my resurrection for real?  Or how about, Peter, tell me exactly how you think I am related to God?  Or at least, Peter, are you sorry you denied me?

Peter ducks his head and responds just that shade too quickly, “Sure, Jesus, sure, you know I love you.”  Let’s get this over with quick.

Jesus says gently, “Feed my lambs.”

Well, Peter might be thinking, I don’t know what that means, but okay, if it gets me off the guilt hook.

Jesus looks straight at his friend.  “Simon son of John,” he says, “do you love me?”

“You know I love you.”  Oh God, this is agony!  Please, can we move on?

“Tend my sheep.”

Silence.

“Simon son of John, do you love me?”

His guilt and grief finally in the bottom of his stomach, lying like lead with the fish he ate for breakfast, Peter is quiet.  Then he says, solemnly and from the heart, “Lord, you know everything.  You know how I love you and how I failed to love you.  You know how I feel about failing you.  You know I would do anything to go back and do it over, do it right.  I don’t know what else I can possibly say.  I do love you.”

“Peter.”  Gently, with warmth and tenderness that Peter cannot even begin to fathom, “Feed my lambs.”

“I do know you, Peter.  You’ve always been your own man, bold and straight-forward.  You’ve made your own decisions and gone your own way.  But from now on you will have a calling that you cannot deny.  This isn’t going to be easy.  You’re going to have to leave your friends and go out on your own.  It will fill you days and your nights.  You’ll do things you never imagined you would do.  And in the end, you will give your whole self to it, be willing to give up everything – including the independence which is so much a part of you – to do what I am calling you to do.”

“I’m asking you to feed my sheep.  Go out from the security of your hometown and your dear friends, and take care of people you haven’t even met yet.  I want you to tell them about me.  I know it’s an impossible story.  So many will listen and not believe.  I want you to show them, by your own faith, what loving me means.”

My kids have a phrase: Epic fail.  It means you’ve really botched something up, there’s no recovering.  Jesus could have said to Peter, “Dude, epic fail!  You’re not coming back from this one!”  Instead, he calls Peter to the most honored position possible – apostle, one sent out in Christ’s own name to be Christ to the world.

Today, I call each of you Peter.  We have all, in our own time and in our own way, ‘epic failed’ Jesus.  We’ve kept our mouths shut when people mocked or scorned him, or put him down.  We’ve kept our hands in our pockets while his people ached for someone to show them his love.  We’ve kept our wallets in our pockets while his lambs suffered and starved.

This week, Trina, Dan and I went to the Crossing Borders, Encountering God conference on immigration.  Trina was one of the organizers.  At that conference, we shared a breakfast at Christ’s table with his lambs – people who are affected on a daily basis by the immigration laws of this state, including the Senate bill 1070 passed this week.  And we were powerfully reminded that these are our full-blooded brothers and sisters in Christ.  For us, it was a ‘come to Jesus’ moment.  If we say we share the body and blood of Christ at the communion table, then we cannot deny we are bound by that blood to tend to these issues on Christ’s behalf.

Christ may be calling you to something different, to a different work.  He is asking, Do you love me more than home and family and friends?  Do you love me enough to leave behind your security and comfort?  To go where you do not necessarily want to go?  Will you serve my people in my name, feed them, tend them, share my love with them?  You are Peter, my denier.  Do you love me?

After this, he simply says, “Follow me.”