John 21:1-19

"Going fishing!" For most of us that phrase means something like "time off," "vacation," "relax," … or "retirement!" That was not what it meant for Peter in the Gospel reading this morning. No - for Peter it was all he could think of now that Jesus was not with them in the same way they had known. Mark well, however, this is not Peter’s reaction to the darkness of the crucifixion. No… according to John, the resurrected Jesus had been among them. This is a post–Easter Peter saying he was "going fishing."

It was as if Peter did not see any other alternative besides going back to his old trade, his old way of living and being… a fisherman. He was reverting to type, falling back on the way his life had been before Jesus came and invited him into a new life of discipleship, of learning, of adventure, of commitment, danger and hardship. I find Peter’s reaction a continuing option for Christians… to revert to type, to fall back into old patterns, to avoid the new life of learning, adventure and discipleship. Peter didn’t seem to have a lot of imagination about what the resurrection meant for him. It happened. It was exciting initially. But now what? … "I am going fishing."

How is it that we "go fishing" in our Christian experience? How do we fall back on the old… avoid the new? Are we simply opposed to change? Are we like the old Scotsman who said, "We tried change once"? We did not like it." We have experienced a few changes in my time … and indeed many of them we did not like. The use of inclusive language in both hymns, scripture and sermon is a change that is still underway. It is not an easy change for many. The issue of inclusiveness with respect to those of different sexual orientation is a change that is resisted strongly in our denomination.

There is a false notion concerning change in the life of movements and organizations. It is the idea that there was a time of original purity, when the purpose and plan were clear and everyone was in agreement. It is the belief that there was a unity and devotion, a clarity and strength that characterized the beginning stages of church, community or order. This is seldom the case. But it is an article of faith, and so reform movements set out to restore the anemic, crumbling company to its former strength and glory. The aim of the Reformation was to restore the church to its New Testament vigor and clarity, to the days of the early Christian movement, and to strip away the barnacles of the centuries that now hampered and hindered the cause of Christ. A myth of former glory emerges which feeds the desire to "go back," to return to the way things used to be."

The resurrection is not a motif of restoration. This, of course, was the hope of Israel: the Messiah would restore the kingdom to Israel. God would intervene to return the chosen people to their previous glory and prestige that they had known in the time of Solomon. No, the resurrection is a call to newness, to recognize the new thing that God is doing. There are hard moments in that recognition. With the coming of the new, the old is just that: old. The old may be valuable, it may be good, but if it is not a foundation for the new… if it hinders the new thing that God is doing… then the old becomes a seed of disobedience.

God is inviting this congregation into the new, into resurrection. The Church of Jesus Christ is not tied to one basic form and shape. It is the living body of Christ, and it is elastic and pliable, like clay in the potter’s hands. But I would remind you that God is the potter. Therefore it is imperative that each of you be a part of responding to God, the potter. Those of us who have worked with clay remember well those times when the clay has a mind of its own, seemingly resistant to the will of the potter. Those attempts often end in failure. Using that metaphor, it your privilege to respond to the potter. May each of you be prayerful with a yearning and knowing how God would use you in a witness to the world, in ministries of compassion and justice. That suggests a listening for the prompting of the Spirit, a seeking to discern the will and way of the Lord. The function of leadership is to help and facilitate that listening, in order that all the body may discern the mind of Christ. That listening may not always be easy.

Former President Jimmy Carter tells the story about his own struggle to take time to listen.

"I distinctly remember after dinner one evening the words of our daughter. She wanted to tell me something important that had happened to her that day at school. She began hurriedly, ‘Daddy, I wanna tell you something, and I’ll tell you real fast.’

"Suddenly, realizing her frustration, I answered, ‘Honey, you can tell me — and you don’t have to tell me really fast. Say it slowly.’

I do not know what the newness of God means for you. Your ministry and witness will change in these next five years. That change needs to be the result not just of new leadership, but of your considered and prayerful listening. You need leadership, yes, but God has already blessed you with an abundance of talent, training, intelligence, and devotion. The leadership you seek will come to a team already here and to be a part of that team. Make no mistake; the Holy Spirit is among you.

The abundance of the catch, the breakfast they enjoyed serves to remind us that when we are called to enter into the new life of resurrection we shall find the nurture and sustenance that we need. We are called to trust the leading of the Spirit in daring to venture forth into new ways and new relationships. In that context the final piece of this story is a poignant reminder of human frailty and hope.

They had finished breakfast, and Jesus engages Peter in a painful dialogue. Peter, you remember, had denied Jesus three times when Jesus was being questioned the night of his arrest. A sorrowful Peter was embarrassed and stricken with guilt when he heard the cockcrow and recalled Jesus prediction of his denial. Peter may have been designated the leader among the disciples, but he was no work of perfection.

So Jesus gets to the heart of the matter, "Peter, do you love me." He didn’t ask Peter if he believed, if he held to certain theological convictions, if he had gotten the words just right. He simply asked, "Peter, do you love me?"

The Christian life is not so much one of doctrine and observance of proper ritual and liturgy. The Christian life is a matter of relationships, relationships that are founded on a loving integrity, genuine respect, and a real fondness. It is possible to be doctrinally correct, liturgically splendid and have a heart of stone. It is not possible to love Jesus, to know the compassion and forgiveness of that spiritual relationship and be hard of heart. I am convinced that forgiveness is one of the essential marks of the body of Christ, of those who are invited to live in the reality of the resurrection. Jesus’ conversation with Peter is an exploration of that dynamic. As you enter this new phase of your life together, may you grow in God’s grace, in your continuing to take time to care for each other, to listen to God and to each other, and to forgive one another when you fail in some way… as you surely will.

It was said that many years ago, when its rabbi was still alive, the celebration of the Sabbath in the town of Libush was like the Sabbath in Paradise: beautiful, joyous, peaceful beyond description.

A pilgrim, determined to find out the secret, journeyed to Libush. But no one in Libush knew the secret because they had not yet been born or were too old to remember the Sabbaths in the days of the great rabbi. The pilgrim finally found an old washerwoman who had worked in the kitchen when the rabbi lived. He asked her if she remembered the Sabbaths of those days and what the rabbi had done to make it so glorious.

"Oh, I was just a girl then," the old woman demurred. "I remember that in the kitchen just before the start of each Sabbath there was a lot of commotion. Important guests were arriving from far and wide. Everything had to be just so. We were all under a great deal of pressure. In the tumult, we would bump into one another, step on one another’s toes. Sometimes we would yell at one another."

"Yes," said the traveler, "but what was so special about your Sabbaths?"

"I only remember we would get very angry with one another. Oh, yes, and every week we would forget."

"Forget what?"

"The rabbi would walk in, and in the most kindly voice he would ask us if we remembered. But from one week to the next we always forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"We always forgot to forgive one another. And as soon as we remembered to forgive one another, it was the Sabbath. Just like that."

As you and I now come to live into our separate and different experiences of new life, of discerning the resurrection in our world, we have Jesus’ question to Peter to keep before us: "Do you love me." If we can both answer "Yes!"… if we can all discern the Christ spirit among us … if we can recognize Jesus in the "least of these," his brothers and sisters, if we can forgive one another, then we shall rejoice. Thanks be to God.