We Know What To Bring
John 21:1-19
Every time we encounter something in this world, it’s hard to go back to the way things were before. Experiences change us. One of you (who shall remain nameless) first gave my daughter ice cream at a church gathering and I can still see the reaction on her face the first time she tasted it. Her life would never be the same again after having tasted ice cream. Once you’ve driven a car as a teenager, riding a bicycle doesn’t seem so cool anymore. A few summers ago we used Clorox on our mission trip to clean our dishes and now every time I add some Clorox in the washer to clean white clothes, I’m taken back to that summer…and that residual taste on those dishes.
Blacksburg, Virginia, will never be the same again after April 16, 2007. The families who lost loved ones will grieve on this day for the rest of their lives. Those who survived will be haunted every time this day in April rolls around. Nobody, who was affected by what happened in Blacksburg this past week, will be able to go back to the way things were before. People may try to resume normalcy, but most will not be successful. Why? Because what was normal, won’t be normal in the same way. Landmark moments in life change us. If someone wins a gold medal in the Olympics, their life will be different from then on. If someone tragically loses a loved one, his or her world has been forcibly re-shaped.
This is now the 3rd Sunday of Easter. The past three weeks, we have been looking at resurrection appearances from the Gospels. John’s Gospel, more than the other Gospel accounts, seems more attentive to what happens after the resurrection. Perhaps John realized a great challenge faced the followers of Jesus after something like the resurrection happened to them. But I think John also recognizes that the resurrection wasn’t just about Jesus. It’s about all of us. Resurrection changes things. No matter what your life experience entails, resurrection changes things.
At the beginning of our text today, some of the disciples were together by the Sea of Tiberias. And Peter says, “I am going fishing.” It seems a quite innocent statement, yet I’ve wondered if this may be Peter’s own attempt to resume a normal life after a landmark event.[1] Peter’s still probably trying to come to grips with the fact that Jesus has been showing up every once in a while,[2] even though they all expected him to stay dead. He’s still probably wondering if Jesus would ever forgive him for his betrayal.[3] Peter’s probably wondering, “What do I do now?” Whatever Peter is thinking, he seems to be trying to return to what he knows best and what Peter knows best is fishing.
When’s the last time you had one of those, “What do I do now?” moments? Did you try and go back to what was normal or what you know best? What’s that normal, perhaps ordinary, thing that you do well that brings a certain measure of comfort?
When each of us has a landmark event in life, it’s not a bad thing to want to return to routine and familiarity. Those consistent life rhythms can help us adjust to the changes that our landmark event has introduced into our lives. When you have a new baby, family comes in and helps out for a while, but they don’t stay forever. Eventually you need to do it on your own. When you start a new job, you might drive the same car to work, but the roads are probably different to get you there. When a loved one dies, it’s good to have support and encouragement, but eventually you go back to work, or you sleep alone in the same house, or you eat at the same table you once shared with someone else. We try and return to what was normal but what was normal is not normal anymore. There is a new reality.
On this third Sunday of Easter, this country is once again trying to make sense of a new record that we wished we didn’t have – a record number of people being killed at one of our schools in a single incident. Eventually we will each try and return to what’s normal, or at least what we thought was normal. But that reality is now changed.
I believe in addition to reminding us that Peter tried to return to what was normal after the resurrection, that the text also presents us with Peter’s realization of his profound new world – a world with resurrection at the center. Even though Jesus would soon leave the disciples, he would still be with them in spirit. Even though the disciples would still hunger for answers to their questions, Jesus would still feed them though not always in ways they understood. Even though Peter had horribly failed in following Jesus by betraying him, he’d still get another chance…and another…and another to be faithful. Even though Jesus told Peter to lead the church, and feed and tend the people, he still was called to follow.
As I was listening to radio coverage of the tragedy in Blacksburg this past Tuesday morning, NPR interviewed Judy Muller, who also covered the Columbine shootings in Colorado. She said that as she watched what was happening in Blacksburg, she was continually reminded of a statement made by a mourner from Colorado. This woman said after Columbine, “What’s really sad, is that we know what to bring. We bring our grief, our outrage, and our questions.”[4] We know what to bring. That’s probably true in Blacksburg today as well. People who have been affected by this great tragedy know what to bring – their sadness, their grief, and their questions.
I hope, as people of faith, that we also claim this statement today: We know what to bring. Because of the resurrection, we know of a new normal – where tragic events don’t get the last word. That’s what we can bring. Violence, betrayal, and disappointment have to yield to faith and the promises of God. That’s what we can bring. Our new reality is dominated by the hope of the resurrection life – that’s what we can bring. You and I have a new normal through faith.
Last week as I was studying this passage, Diane sent to me a poem by Wendell Berry that seemed so fitting for the day. Let these words be our benediction this morning.
The Peace of Wild Things[5]
When
despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
—
Wendell
Berry
Amen.
[1] William H. Willmon raises this point in his commentary on this text. See “The World Upset by Easter,” Pulpit Resource, April 22, 2007.
[2] John 21:14 says that this is the 3rd time Jesus appears to the disciples yet it seems to be the fourth. See 20.11-18 where Jesus appears to Mary Magdalene; 20.19-23 where Jesus appears to the disciples in a house in Jerusalem; 20.24-29 where Jesus appears to Thomas and the disciples; and now this account.
[3] Note Mark’s way of shaping one of the resurrection appearances by having the young man dressed in a white robe say to women who come to the tomb, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter…” (Mark 16:7).
[4] Morning Edition, April 17, 2007. You can listen to this audio clip by going to this website: http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=9615639