What little white lie did you tell this week? Just a simple slip of the tongue and it was out of your mouth . . . they come so easily don’t they? Thinking back, I recall not answering my phone, and saying later, “I was in the middle of a crisis situation.” Okay, maybe it was not exactly a lie, but it certainly was not full disclosure. Fishermen are good at these. The ones that got away. The story of the man with the bucket of pet fish and the game warden . . .
And so, in our Gospel today, the Seven disciples go back to work in their old jobs as fisherman. They are Peter, James and John the sons of Zebedee, Thomas the doubter, Nathanael and two un-named others.
Peter must have felt terrible; he had lied in public three times that he did not know Jesus, and so at breakfast on the lake shore Jesus makes him undo his lies, makes him confess three times that he loves Jesus. “Simon son of John do you love me more than these? Yes lord you know I love you. Three times Peter remakes his confession, and three times he must accept the task of pastor, “Feed my Lambs; Tend my sheep; Feed my sheep.”
There are several points here - Jesus feeds the Apostle first before he asks him to feed others; Jesus is heard first and then seen, like he appeared to Mary in the garden, showing that he is transformed and not merely resuscitated, and the third point is: there precisely 153 very large fish that should have sunk the boat or at least torn the nets.
But we can leave all that aside and go to the heart of what I believe to be today’s message. Peter was a liar and a traitor; he had denied his Lord; he had been ashamed of being a follower of Jesus. Nevertheless, on such a one Jesus founds his church, and for what reason? Well, the real answer lies deep in the heart of God, but as far as we can see, this situation makes it absolutely clear that the power of the church, the gift of eternal life, comes from Jesus alone and not from any virtue and fortitude in us.
If Peter the first Apostle is a liar and Jesus wants him to feed his lambs, then we can take heart; he must be totally forgiven. The rest of us are offered the same. But it will take complete disclosure. The good news is that we don’t need to be pillars of society here, or super sweet, well heeled ladies or real nice guys. After all, the first Christian Apostle was a lying coward.
The second Apostle, in rank, if not order, was a murderous zealot. Saul of Tarsus, was on his way to arrest Christians in Damascus when the risen Jesus confronted him in a blinding vision and asked, “Saul, Saul why are you persecuting me?” You know the rest of the story well; it is the paradigm of what came to be called the conversion experience.
“Faith bears witness to abrupt, transformative newness that it cannot explain,” says Walter Brueggemann. Jesus shows up where least expected, and everything is changed. The life-giving power of God has the capacity, always and again, to work newness where newness seems impossible.
Today’s Scripture readings provide a remarkable inventory concerning God’s transformative power: Saul to Paul, losers becoming Apostles. Darkness, deceit and lies leading us out into the light. These texts invite us to ponder God’s gifts of newness among us: new selves, new church, new world. God’s gifts are beyond our despairing. These are challenging times. The cynic in me might ask the question posed by Luke 18, where Jesus asks, “When the Son of Man comes will he find faith on the earth?” If we were to be even more pessimistic, we can ask “will the son of man find faith in the church?”
The answer is yes, if you can imagine yourself in Peter, Paul’s or John’s shoes, I mean sandals . . . we are a resurrection church and we are faithful to Christ’s mission and ministry. Our little church here is a faithful following of the same mission as the original disciples. How can each member, each Christian, each person sitting in the pew be a part of the Good News?
We are called to be first of all transformed by the resurrection. Open up, stop lying to ourselves and to God that we can handle it by ourselves. Jesus is waiting to rescue us, to give us life abundantly. Why are we settling for only the fish we can bring in by ourselves? Stop the lie, then answer the call to feed the sheep . . . or some variation on that theme. It’s not just food. It is education; it is good solid Christian values, it is advocating for peace and justice in the city, nation and world. Resurrection people are lending a hand to make the world a better place – no, wait, its more than that, its proclaiming that I am one of the fishermen of the greatest fisherman of all. Not just believer; but follower, doing the work.
Our contribution may be participating in the worship life of the congregation or the outreach, or the thrift store, or it could be a new thing. . . let’s look at one example . . . our witnessing to the ways that violence destroys God’s world and the marked change that has been made in our own souls because of the recognition of our being people of the resurrection. I knew a guy in college named David who became an undercover agent with the ATF. His assignment was to infiltrate this armed white supremacy group in Alabama and learn where the flow of illegal firearms was coming from. He and his partner wrote a book describing their ordeal called Not For Self But Others. Wow, talk about an amazing gift to our nation. The resurrection changes us. . . like it did Saul. Prior to his conversion, Saul exhibited marked aggression: dragging families out of their houses in the dark of the night, enacting the same violence he earlier saw up-close. “Breathing threats and murder,” it says in Acts, he is an assassin, feared by all, as infamous as a pandillero in one of Honduras’s notorious street gangs or a death squad commando in El Salvador.
“So what does God do with this violent young man, an enemy of the church?” Jesus knocks Saul off his horse with an overwhelming light. “God stops violent men,” we are reminded by Chris Hoke, who has worked with gangs as a chaplain in the Skagit County Jail and on the streets of northwest Washington state. “God stops violent men by touching their eyes, where the violence first entered them.”
Bear with me for a moment. Place your hands over your eyes so you see total darkness. Now invite Jesus to heal one of your troubled memories; imagine that you are there, at the scene, and you see the person of Jesus. . . and he is surrounded by a bright light.
Let God touch your eyes. Let God touch you where you have suffered injury or trauma. Imagine yourself recovering from seeing a violent act and try to understand your fear, your anger and your own aggression. And now step into the light and feel its warm embrace, because you are forgiven. Step into the light and feel the healing resurrection power; you are no longer numb to the violence, apathy, vicious behavior that we see around us. You are no longer afraid to heal.
As we remember the trauma we have seen, we unlock and release the interior violence and give it to God. And give it to the universe as one more experience that needs God’s attention. And that is the first step towards healing and wholeness. The next step is forgiving ourselves for forgetting, for falling victim, for being a part of such an ugly scene. Stop, look, there’s Jesus with his hands open to you; there’s Jesus with a warm piece of bread and fish; there’s Jesus again with some kind words. Stop blaming. Stop justifying your actions. Stop suffering in silence. Start healing, and keep forgiving.
God wants and expects complete disclosure. Jesus, the risen and victorious, can build his church through us, and can give the precious gift of grace to those who want it. Through the church; through us it can happen. We become the peace we want to see in the world. We are the change we want to see in the world.
Peter, Paul and the others finally understood that the resurrection was not a one time event. Jesus did it, the disciples did it. We do it. What a poignant moment as Jesus proclaims again that first invitation issued on this shore many months before: "Follow me."
Jesus shows up where least expected, offers us new life and new hope, and everything is changed. The life-giving power of God has the capacity, always and again, to work newness where newness seems impossible.
The moral of the story is clear. No pain is too deep; no fear is too great to overcome, no sin too powerful to be forgiven. Love, indeed, conquers all. And so we-like Peter, like Paul and John and every other follower who has needed and known the grace of God can join the psalmist in offering this prayer: "You have turned my mourning into dancing....O Lord, my God, I will give thanks to you forever!" Hear our wounded hearts and make us whole. Offer us as your living sacrifices that our wisdom and understanding might be used for a greater good in our world. You are our rock and our salvation, for you have redeemed us and made us whole. Amen.
