Back to Where They Began?

John 21:1-19

At least the disciples have managed to get themselves out from behind locked doors. For as you may recall, when last we met up with them in John's Gospel, that is exactly where they were when they last encountered Jesus. Paralyzing fear can do that to us, of course, and perhaps it is so that the appearance of Jesus not once, but twice, in that closed off room at least loosened the grip of that fear.  And so as we catch up with them today, at least Peter and the rest no longer seem to be held hostage by that sense of terror. In fact, it seems to me that today they have almost allowed themselves to go 'home.' Or at least to a place that felt a whole lot like home --- particularly to those in the group who had been called away from their places on fishing boats just a few years before.

And so it is today as we meet them on the beach by the Sea of Tiberias, I can't help but wonder this:

Why do you suppose it was that Peter announced to his companions that he was going fishing?

Do you suppose it was that he did not know what else to do with himself  in this in-between time as they waited for whatever it was that would come next? Do you suppose that is why Peter returned to what was most familiar before his world had been turned upside down?

Or rather, might we believe that part of Peter actually yearned to go back to when his world was simpler? You know, back before Jesus called him out of his ordinary life and led him on a journey he certainly could not have imagined for himself?

Or was it something else altogether?

In John's telling we are offered no motives, of course, so it is ours to fill in the blanks. And yet, I find it fitting, somehow and certainly in keeping with much of what I know of human nature and experience that this would be Peter's impulse at this time. In times of crisis or uncertainty there is often a tendency to return to what we know the best. Maybe it stems from force of habit. Maybe it is simply comfortable. Or perhaps it is the result of our hope to recapture something we thought was forever lost.

And yet, if this was their hope or intent, it appears this is also so: there really could be no actual going back for the disciples:

• Not once they had met Jesus in story and meal, in healing and in hope.
• Not having confronted the worst in themselves even as they witnessed the best God had to give in Christ's suffering and dying.
• Not once they had glimpsed God's Promise fulfilled on Easter Day.

Indeed, how could they ever really go back? Or at least if they did, how could they go back unchanged by all they had experienced in the last three years, not to mention those last couple of weeks?

Indeed, maybe that is why there would not be a single fish caught that night. Maybe for all of what may have been their inclination to leave those last three years behind them, maybe in the depth of that long night where their nets hung listless from the side of the boat, maybe their hearts really weren't in it at all. And maybe in the quiet murmurs they shared with one another they recognized a common yearning to be part of something more again.

Indeed, we can't know for sure whether the disciples were running from something or running towards something or if they were just passing the time on that fishing boat that night. What we do know is this. Jesus met them there. He came to where they were and he appeared to them in a place which was perhaps familiar --- which maybe felt something like 'home' but could never really be home again ---  and he served them breakfast.  And then singling Peter out, he spoke to them of all that they will be called to now. No longer would they be hauling nets full of fish on shore at dawn --- also meant to feed people --- but they would specifically be called upon to feed those who had also heard a call to something more. And just like the last time Jesus showed up and called them from their old lives to follow him, this call would also take them to places and people they surely could not yet imagine.

And yet, with all of this, this is what I find myself wondering today:

• Do you suppose the disciples, much like all of us, had to make a definite choice this side of the Resurrection? And do you suppose that long night on the boat helped set the stage for them to decide to continue to follow Jesus into whatever came next?

• Do you think that maybe they were able to hear the voice of Jesus best in a place they knew so well? I mean, how often do we need to retreat to a place that is safe and sure and free from other distractions so that we, too can hear the voice of God?

• Do you know what I mean when I say that they couldn't really go back --- at least not unchanged? If so, have you found this to be so in your life?  What new understanding, what experience, what hard earned wisdom has led you to live your life differently --- whether you actually changed physical location or not? And how has this been so in your seeking to follow Jesus?

Following Jesus Once More

John 21:1-19

I can't really imagine what it must have been for Peter and the other disciples as they gathered on the lake shore that night.  There is certainly nothing in my own experience that parallels what they have been through: to watch Jesus crucified, to have participated in it by their own denial and quickness to flee, hoping that would somehow ensure their own safety.  And then the shock of the resurrection, the wonder of having Jesus actually appear to them and now simply trying to get their own minds around this new, utterly unprecedented reality.  No, there is nothing in my own life experience which compares, but I do believe I can understand their reaction now.  I can understand their deep desire to return to the familiar --- Peter's yearning to simply do what he can do without thinking about it... pushing the boat out into the lake, lowering the nets and raising them again, hoping for a good catch.  In fact, I'm thinking Peter can do this with his eyes closed and he probably is doing just that as he continues to work out in his mind and in his heart the unbelievable events of these last days.

I understand that, for we do the same it seems to me.  In times of crisis, or loss, or fear, or uncertainty, we grasp for what we know for sure, returning to familiar routines until our mind and heart can catch up with one another.  Until we find ourselves ready to step out in faith and hope again.

So I understand that, and although it does not compare, I think I can also understand something of their state of mind then.  For I believe I found myself in such a place not that long ago.

This is how it was for me.  I had entered into a new and different kind of work, believing it would use my gifts well and that it would give me the opportunity to deepen those gifts and to develop some new ones.  I began it thinking I could be a part of making a difference.  It didn't work out that way.   Before long I found my most deeply held values at war with one another.   I discovered that many more days than not I was being required to do work which did not begin to use the gifts I had been developing my whole life long.  I was deeply unhappy and found myself covered with a shroud of uncertainty and fear.  I did not know what to do next.

I had been in this place only a couple of months by then and had begun to share some of my struggle with some trusted friends.  One of them told me then that another friend had told her to tell me, 'You tell Janet to start writing again.'  This was offered with the best of intentions, I know.  But even so, in my darkness, even that I was not able to receive well.  In fact, I can remember my reaction was one of deep grief, for by then I was literally not certain I had anything to say.

I am still shocked at how little time it took to erode my confidence and my hope.  At how quickly I seemed to lose my way.  At how hard it was to find my way out of it.  I truly didn't think I had anything left to say.  It was much worse for the disciples, of course, but think of how quickly, they too, lost their way.  How suddenly a world full of promise became one of despair and uncertainty...

And then on a morning commute a few days later in those dark mornings before Christmas I remembered a Christmas story I had told before.  I went home and wrote it down.  I called a friend with the idea for this blog and tentatively I began to write again.  I was wobbly at first, but soon I found my stride, and whatever else has been true in the last eighteen months, this has also been true.  In this sharing of the journey in this way, I am living more deeply into my own faith and discovering daily what it is to follow Jesus again.

So, yes,  I do have a little sense of the utter fear or uncertainty or hopelessness that may have enshrouded those disciples on the beach so long ago.  I know what it is to feel caught and to only know to return to what one knows the best.  It is what the disciples appear to have been doing and it is what continues to happen after Jesus makes himself known over a charcoal fire and a meal of fish and bread.  For pretty soon we hear Jesus pull Peter into a private conversation asking him over and over again the most basic of questions, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?"  What do you know for certain, Peter?  What have you staked your life and hope on before?  Only this conversation does not end with only a spoken affirmation of Peter's deepest held values. Rather, it offers concrete direction for Peter, and I would venture to day for all of us as well as Jesus puts the call into the simplest of terms:  Feed those whom I love.  Care for them. Give them what they need.  And then Jesus ends it where he began with Peter three years before, with the simple invitation to "Follow me." 

I have to say though that as far as my writing goes, I don't know if I was returning to what I know best or stepping out in faith trying to discern where Jesus was leading me next.  I expect it was and is a muddled up combination of the two.  Mostly though I know it's pretty basic and whether it is this or some other gift or avenue any one of us might be called to move deeper into, for people of faith it must always begin with the same question from Jesus, "Do you love me?"  And our answer does always find its most basic meaning in the call to care for those whom Jesus loves, wherever it is we live our lives.  And yes, I expect it does also mean stepping out in faith every single day, one step at a time sometimes, as we listen and watch for Jesus going before us, following him from darkness into light, from doubt to certainty, from despair to hope, from death to life... 

• Have you ever found yourself in the dark place of fear or uncertainty the disciples appear to be in at the start of today's story?  What was that like? How were you led out of it?  Or are you still there?  If that is the case, how might this story offer direction or hope to you now?
• The question and the command posed to Peter are meant for us as well.  What does it mean to you to say that you love Jesus?  How are you called upon to "feed Jesus' sheep" where you are today?