Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter

Readings
Acts 9:1-6, (7-20)
Psalm 30
Revelation 5:11-14
John 21:1-19

The late author M. Scott Peck opens his book The Road Less Traveled with the words, “Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths.” If you have lived any length of time with any modicum of awareness you can recognize the truth of his words. Life is difficult and we most definitely live in difficult times. And that’s true even when there are good things to point to. It doesn’t take an avalanche to move from joy to struggle.

The danger for all of us is to become overwhelmed by the difficulties we encounter. How many of us haven’t from time to time thought to ourselves “I just can’t take it anymore?” How many of us have retreated from our lives and/or from the world, looking for a respite from the pain or the tidal wave of emotions which threaten to overcome us?

It is into this reality that the story we just heard occurs. Some of Jesus’ closest followers find themselves, post resurrection, post appearances, overwhelmed and not knowing what to do. In a very short period of time, they have gone through the trauma of Jesus’ arrest, torture, and execution and then the empty tomb and his post resurrection appearances.  It is all just too much.

We can imagine just how overwhelmed they must have felt. Even with the Lord risen, he is not the same … he is transformed. And even if he weren’t in a transformed state the emotional impact would be the same. I don’t know about you, but I would not know how to process all of that. Even with some sense of joy there would still be a lot there to work through.

Peter’s answer is to return to what he knows, to return to something solid and familiar. He declares without explanation “I’m going fishing,” and those around him decide to go with him. They return to their familiar vocation. They return to the certainty and comfort of boats, and nets, and fish. They reach out for normalcy in the midst of all that has happened and is happening.

Unfortunately, they spend the night fishing and catch nothing. Have you ever looked for solace in something familiar only to find it didn’t turn out the way you thought it would? This is where the disciples find themselves, and as morning dawns a stranger calls to them from the beach.

He doesn’t ask if they’ve caught anything. Instead, posed as a question, he acknowledges the failure of their enterprise. He then instructs them to let down their nets on the right side of the boat and soon the nets are full to the breaking point.

This is a bit too familiar for the beloved disciple and he tells Peter “It is the Lord!” Peter, impetuous as always, throws on some clothes and jumps in the water rushing toward the man on the beach. When he and the others get there they find a breakfast of warm bread and broiled fish waiting for them.

Once again, Christ is in a transformed state and so on the surface they don’t recognize him, but they know, both from the beloved disciple’s testimony and the familiarity of the circumstances, that it is Jesus.

Jesus once again, comes and feeds them. Like the feeding of the multitudes and then the last supper, Jesus is again feeding them. This is a moment of communion. It is a moment of grace.

And what is it that creates that moment of grace? Well, it’s two-fold: first the recognition of who it is that is waiting for them on the shore, and then the willingness to come to him. It is expressed in the confession of Peter’s love and Christ’s call to feed his lambs, tend his sheep, and feed his sheep.

The deep truth of today’s Gospel is that the difficultly of life does not preclude the presence of Christ. The abiding hope of today’s passage is that we will find Christ wherever we are, if we are but willing to listen for his voice and respond to his call.

Yes, life is difficult, and we live in difficult times. But, Christ is also present. Present in the difficulty and present in those places to which we retreat when we find ourselves overwhelmed.

The question for us is will we embrace within us the faith of the beloved disciple. Will we spend tender time with our Lord, resting our mind and heart in his, so that we might recognize him when he appears in our daily lives and ordinary routines?

But not only that, will we, like Peter, respond to that recognition in active ways. Are we prepared to, even in the midst of our shame and brokenness, offer all our heart, soul, strength, and mind to Christ? Are we prepared to feed his lambs, to tend his sheep, to feed his sheep?

The promise of the Gospel is not, that by accepting Jesus, life will get easier. No, life is difficult. We each have our crosses to bear, and the world will be the world. But one of the promises of the resurrected Lord is that we will never be alone. Christ is with us, and in us, in all of life’s circumstances, regardless of our emotional state.

As he feeds us at his table with the food we find before us, and as he transforms our ordinary tasks into moments of extraordinary grace, may we express our love to him not only with our lips, but in our lives. May we be that love to a hurting and broken world.