5 May 2019 – 3rd Sunday of Easter
Psalm
30; Acts 9:1-6; John 21:1-19
Peter is one of the most interesting of the New
Testament characters because many of us can relate to him. He is zealous for whatever he believes in at
any given moment; and what he says, he seems to mean. Yet this Scripture portion seems to open with
Peter at perhaps one of his lowest moments.
The other Gospel accounts portray the apostles as afraid, but John’s
account seems to show them all at a point of surrender in the midst of a
profound loss. It is almost as if Peter
says, “I’m going fishing”, to which the others respond, “Might as well”.
Jesus had appeared to them once, but that Visit may
have only further confused them. There is
nothing to indicate they were not still afraid of the fallout for having been
associated with Jesus, but they still had to work. So maybe with the idea of strength in
numbers, they all went out together to get back to their lives – as if nothing
had happened.
This happens for many of us. We have those exciting, fulfilling, spiritual
moments when we feel more alive than we ever have, when we come to know The
Lord has touched us in an unmistakable way; the problem often is we don’t
really know what to do with it. Without further
instruction, without some definitive sense of direction, without some measure
of accountability, we do what we know how to do: we revert. We go back to some sense of normal, and we get
on with our lives.
It is easy for us to say that if we had been there
when the Resurrected Jesus came into the room, there would be no way we could
ever go back to the way things once were.
What we may be witnessing, however, is the simple reality: it is far
easier to submit to impulse or habit than it is to break away from what was
once normal and live as though we really have had a brush with the Eternal.
Maybe there’s a bone in the back of our heads that
just “can’t get right”. Maybe we are such creatures of habit and routine
that we are incapable of thinking beyond what is normal. Maybe we are such tortured souls that we are,
more often than not, left twisting in the wind with no real sense of direction,
no real sense of community purpose (unless it suits us), and no idea of whether
those things even matter.
When Jesus first appeared to the women, there was not much
offered except to tell everyone to gather, but John’s Gospel does not offer
even that. When Jesus appeared to them
all later, they were given the Holy Spirit and were told, “If you forgive the sins of any,
they are forgiven; if you retain the sins of any, they are retained” (John 21:23). However, they are not told (at least by John’s
account) what to do with this new authority or what it meant for them.
There is still a sticking point in all this,
especially for Peter. Most of the
disciples abandoned Jesus when things got dangerous; but by all accounts, they
simply ran. Peter tried to stick around,
it seems, which put him in a position to either stand with Jesus as he said he
would - or revert to his normal self
and do whatever would be necessary to survive having been accused of being one
of “them”.
It is Luke’s Gospel which points out that after the
rooster had crowed and Jesus had turned to look squarely at Peter, “Peter
remembered the word of the Lord, how He had said to him, ‘Before
the cock crows today, you will have denied Me three times’ … after
which Peter “went out and wept bitterly” (Luke 22:61-62). This seems
odd, however, since it is Peter named in John’s Gospel who had drawn a sword to
defend Jesus from being arrested (John
18:10).
What went wrong?
How is it that Peter was willing to risk fighting armed soldiers for
Jesus’ sake but was unwilling to simply be counted among Jesus’ followers when so
accused? I think that was Peter’s
natural state. I think Peter believed he
was doing the right thing by being willing to defend Jesus, violently if
necessary.
When he was called down by Jesus for having done so,
he became confused. In the end, being so
uncertain about what it was he needed to do, there was nothing left but to deny
that better part of himself which knew Jesus, had loved Jesus, and had
professed Jesus.
It’s never that easy, though. We “can’t
get right” because we pay more attention to our impulses, our desires, our
habits, our own agendas than we do to The Word.
And it will always be so as long as religion, faith, and being fully
connected are less important to us than are the things we would rather do, the
things we are more comfortable doing, the things we have always been taught to
do.
We need to hear from Jesus. We need The Word to heal us, to exonerate us,
to forgive us for being human. We need
The Word to teach us how to rise above all that so we can be who we really
are. Apart from The Word, we can’t
get right. We can’t be who we
really are; we can only be what our impulses, our habits, our routines, even
our culture allows us to be.
It is more than simply being absolved, however. Notice the cost of loving Jesus as Peter had professed: “Feed My lambs”; “Tend My sheep”;
“Feed My sheep”. It cannot be a
simple “I forgive you” – not when so much is at stake. It is never true to The Word that we are simply
forgiven so we can feel less guilty about our failures. It is never true to The Word that we are
simply forgiven but not transformed. And
it is not true to The Word that forgiveness stands in perpetuity only in that
single moment.
As long as we allow that single moment to speak for us
but not to inform us, we can’t get right. As long as Jesus is our “co-pilot” and not
our Shepherd, we can’t get right. As long as Jesus is an after-thought and not
our forethought, we can’t get right.
Yet we gather regularly to pray, to study, to worship,
and to be fed so we can be Made Right. We
are invited to His Table to be Made Right.
We are called to confess so we can be Made Right. So we must make this decision not once but
constantly; because, like Peter, we can so easily be drawn back into our former
selves and lose all sense of the One Thing that is always Right: our Lord, our
Shepherd, our Savior, our very Life.
He can only be Ours if we are always His. For now, and forever. Amen.
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