GONE FISHIN'

A Sermon preached by the Rev. Michael Anderson Bullock

[Acts 9:1-20; Revelation 5:11-14; John 21:1-19]

“Gone fishin’.”  That’s the implicit sign that at least seven of Jesus’ disciples emotionally hung on their collective office door.  “Gone fishin’.”  With all the dramatic detail that last week’s story of Thomas contained, this week’s Easter installment from St. John’s gospel ricochets from the solemnity of that Upper Room to land (ker-plunk) on a sandy beach along the Sea of Galilee.  On this third Easter Sunday, this is where a significant remnant of Jesus’ inner circle of “Twelve” inexplicably were holed up.  “Gone fishin’.”  What’s up with that?

From the stunning depiction of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearance in the locked Upper Room, where the risen One made himself known to his cowering and distressed followers, the Christ of God then (in one fell-swoop) commissioned these same men with the Holy Spirit to be bearers and sharers of resurrection life.  And now, John’s gospel names Simon Peter, Thomas of “doubting” fame, Nathanael, the Zebedee boys (James and John), and “two others of his disciples” (I want to believe that our Philip is one of the “others” in this story) – all of them evidently take the express train to their old Galilean stomping grounds and unceremoniously go “fishin’.  What’s up with that?!  And what might their behavior say to us about being “Easter people in a Good Friday world”?1

In my own experience, encountering the reality of resurrection-life is certainly not a “one-and-done” sort of thing.  Rather, I have learned – learned much too slowly and without the beneficial clarity of a “Damascus Road” experience -- that it takes a few “go rounds” with the risen Jesus before the real and life-changing  impact of resurrection can start to sink in.  In this vein, the reason that the Christian worshipping tradition reserves fifty days to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection should be painfully apparent.  Slow and resistant learners, just about all of us!

Yet, before I jump into the example of our Easter-fishing brothers in Christ, allow me to pause for a moment and clarify what we are dealing with in this post-resurrection context.  After all, we are approaching the halfway point in the Season of Easter.  So, there are a few pieces of evidence that we need to observe before we move ahead in this Eastertide excursion.

The first bit of evidence has to do with what the word “resurrection” itself means – and also what it does not mean.  For example, “resurrection” does not mean that there is “life after death”.  “Resurrection does not mean that we “go to heaven when we die”.  “Resurrection does not indicate (much less prove) that Jesus is divine.  All these common misnomers – these inaccuracies -- can blind us to something much more majestic, something much more imminent, something much more fruitful, when we remember that the word “resurrection” means “to awaken to” – as in “awaken to” what life with God is like; as in “awaken to” the fact that with God fear and death no longer define who and what we are; as in “awaken to” the reality that the Easter-life is among us now, not in full blossom but greening among us in moments and occasions that are much more likely to be surprising than planned.  Resurrection: “Awaken to.”

A second important piece of evidence to the mystery of resurrection that all the Easter accounts convey pertains to the reality of Jesus’ risen body.  This is to say that the resurrected Jesus is – still – embodied.  Therefore, the resurrected Jesus is not a ghost, not a specter, not an illusion.  He is what he always was: the enfleshed Word of God.  In fact, even though his resurrected body is not confined by the limits of time and space (that is, for instance, he stunningly moves fluidly through a locked door), it is imperative to recognize that his imperishable body (as St. Paul comes to refer to it) still holds the wounds of this mortal life.  In fact, as you recall, he invites Thomas to touch his body and the wounds it carries.  This is not a matter of any sort of “beam me up, Scotty” stuff!  Ghosts or the minds of the mushroomed do not do this sort of thing.  The point is that Jesus’ risen body needs our serious attention.  For again as St. Paul teaches, we shall all be “like him” when the dust settles.

A third piece of evidence about the risen Jesus also has to do with the reality of his “Easter body”; and we see this evidence in play in every post-resurrection account.  In terms of seriously encountering the risen Lord, there is a telling pattern – a pattern of continuity/discontinuity.  This is to say that when Lord’s followers encounter the resurrected Jesus, at first they don’t recognize him largely because they don’t expect someone who has been killed to appear again in their midst.  Then (as Jesus speaks, for instance) they realize that he is their Lord, one and the same but also different.  The risen Jesus is the same yet tellingly different; and this pattern of continuity/discontinuity with respect to the reality of the Easter life not only defines the experience of Jesus’ followers at the time; this pattern also touches and affects us in our serious apprehension of being Easter people.

Ok: Given this evidence, what about this “Gone fishin’” issue?  Moreover, what might this move back home to the Galilee to fish say about our own response to facing the new life of the risen Christ?

Very simply, what I see and resonate with in the disciples’ returning to fishing on the Sea of Galilee is that in the face of such new and stunningly unexpected life, all of us are tempted to return to what we know, to what we are familiar with, what we find safe and controllable – even though the familiar and the safe just might be killing us.

When I was a first-time rector of a parish church, the bishop of the Diocese lived in that town, and I got to know him a bit more personally as a result.  I clearly remember something he said as he turned 65 years of age.  He looked at me in my bright and shiny mid-thirties, and with a bit of a sigh said: “In turning 65, I know where I have been – for better or for worse.  Yet, I don’t know where the next years will take me.  What I do know is that I have less years than I used to have.”

At the time, hearing the bishop – my bishop! – saying this upsets me.  Yet, what I heard from him in my thirties strikes me much differently now that I am nearly 75.  The point being that there is a great magnetism to stay with what is familiar and to keep what is routine, not venturing out into the newness.  Personally, I continue to recognize that I am much less entrepreneurial in my outlook than I used to be.  Some of this stems from a modicum of discerning wisdom; but much of it also reflects the reality of mortality and its unavoidable limitations.

I firmly believe that the seven disciples mentioned in today’s gospel went fishing because it was what they knew.  It was what was familiar to them and safe.  In the face of resurrection’s challenge and confusion, fishing was what they were good at; and there was stabilizing comfort in that.  The truth was that at that point in time, they were not very good at living in the resurrection, and so they went back home and went fishing.  That they caught nothing in their return was both sobering to them and to any of us who dare to pay attention to Easter’s reality.  Perhaps this is an illustration of the observation, “You can’t go home again.”2

The seven disciples fished all night and didn’t catch a thing.  It was daybreak (just as it was as the women approached the empty tomb that first morning).  Someone was strolling on the beach in the dawn’s light, but the fishing disciples did not recognize that solitary figure nor pay much attention to whomever it was.  Not until that figure yelled out to them: “Good morning!  Did you catch anything for breakfast?”

What?!  Oh, I can hear my own unpublishable response to this circumstantial question, but John’s editing simply conveys that they simply answered “No.”3  Then the stranger made what had to have felt like an intrusively mean suggestion.  “[Hey], [t]hrow your net off the right side of the boat and see what happens.  “Was this some sort of malicious joke, an attempt to put salt into their already wounded souls?  Who is this guy?

Nonetheless (perhaps in their desperation) the men did what the unknown beachcomber suggested.  The text tells us that they netted such a catch of fish that it was a severe challenge to haul their catch onto the beach.  Finally, the unrecognized stranger was made by the “Beloved Disciple” – the gospel’s author, John.  He whispered his insight to Peter.  The telltale signs of abundant life that had always surrounded their Master caused them to announce that the guy on the beach was Jesus!

As they scurried to the shoreline, Jesus announced that it was breakfast time.  Once again, he served them an unexpected and much needed meal, breaking bread and providing fish.  It is at this point that John’s gospel concludes this episode with the report that this beach scene was the third time that the Risen One had appeared to the disciples since being raised from the dead – just in case the reader has lost count.

Continuity/discontinuity.  Familiar but more than.  This is the pattern of resurrected life in God’s Christ, who is Jesus.  It is also our pattern as we continue to take resurrection seriously in our own lives, as we continue to be “Easter people in a Good Friday world”.  And this is the theme of today’s “Spring Parish Quarterly Meeting”.  You and I will have the opportunity to face our own version of Easter’s pattern of “continuity/discontinuity”.  Specifically, we will discuss our opportunity to begin to choose whether we go fishing in the familiar waters of our parish history or recognize the Risen One’s call to new life.

The leadership and I believe that this is the crossroads where St. Philip’s is at this moment.  After the past three years in which we as a church have had three consecutive parish budget surpluses – something that no one can remember ever happening here before.  Moreover, in the same three years (as we have pivoted and rebounded from the challenges of the Covid pandemic), we have also expanded and strengthened our ministries with renewed integrity and faithfulness.  All of which means that, like those post-resurrection disciples we just read about, we are now confronted with the opportunity to move from St. Philip’s historical focus on “survival” to the new life of “thriving”.

As with any serious encounter with Easter’s reality, there are things that continue.  We will continue to worship.  We will continue to care for one another.  We will continue to be present to those beyond our walls; but we also have the chance to be and do more than what we are familiar with.  We can take hold of the signs of resurrection life that are blossoming among us now, and learn how to thrive (not merely survive) in the new, unshakable victory of Jesus’ rising.  And because this is new life, God’s life, just like the disciples we have read about, you and I will need to learn how to recognize this Easter life and to receive it for ourselves and share it with those God calls us to meet.

Continuity/Discontinuity.  Surviving/Thriving.  It is the pattern before us.  Christ is risen!  Thanks be to God.  Amen.

---

1. The Rt. Rev. Barbara Harris. Hallelujah Anyhow

2.  Thomas Wolfe. Look Homeward Angel

3.  The Message. John 21:5