Third Easter

              April 22, 2007

     One day while driving home from his fishing trip in the pouring rain, a man got a flat tire outside a monastery.  The man discovered that his spare tire was also flat.  A monk came out and invited him inside to have dinner and spend the night.  The fisherman accepted.  That night he had a wonderful dinner of fish and chips.  The visitor decided the courteous thing to do was to compliment the chef.  Entering the kitchen, he asked the cook, “Are you the fish friar?” 

     “No,” the man said, “I’m the chip monk.”  (Groan). 

     Then there is the bit of advice that has floated around for years that says, “Give a man a fish and feed him for a day; teach a man to fish and he will sit in a boat and drink beer all day.” 

     Of course, there is a world of difference in recreational fishing and commercial fishing.  Fishing for fun is very often the focus of jokes and tall tales; not many jokes are told about fishing when life itself depends on it.  That’s a bit of what’s going on in the Gospel for this Third Sunday of Easter.  Peter, James, John, Thomas, Nathanael, and a couple of the other disciples had made their way from the shadows of the Upper Room back to the seashore.  Life that had been turned upside down seemed a little more steady at the seashore.  Getting back to something they knew how to do seemed good and proper.  Maybe some sense could come out of all that had happened as they fished and meditated.  Peter who often spoke for the group said, “I am going fishing.”  The others agreed that was a great idea and joined him.

     So, in the late evening when fishing was best, they boarded their fishing boats and set out to sea.  It was a good feeling to be doing something that was familiar again.  To set the back and arms to the oars, to hoist the sails in the gentle breeze, the inspect the nets for potential weaknesses and broken threads, and to feel the mist of the lake blowing into their faces as the winds blew over the water made them fall back into a comfort level they hadn’t felt in a long time.  After three years of walking, to be in a boat again felt good. 

     No doubt there was some soft laughter and gentle kidding among the group as the handled the sails, tied knots, and got their feet tangled in the nets.  It took a while for muscle memory to return, but return it did.  This was fun again after feeling that the whole world had come to an end in Jerusalem. 

     They had fished all night long.   They had done so many times in the past.  It was not until dawn approached that a feeling of gloom began to set in.  They had not caught a single fish.  Maybe they had lost their touch.  The patience that had been there before wasn’t there now.  Perhaps they couldn’t earn a living as fishermen anymore?

     Slowly they rowed back toward shore, still dragging their nets, hoping to snare enough fish to have a bite to eat.  In the shadowy darkness, just before dawn, the weary band of fishermen drew up the nets one more time.  Their arms and backs ached, their spirits sagged, and the nets were empty…again.

     They had come within a hundred yards of land when a voice from shore surprised them.  It was strong, yet kind.  “Children, you have no fish, have you?”  In unison, faint and heartless, the response is “No.”  Now it is important to remember that many fishermen used shore guides when they went out to fish.  From the elevation of the shore fish could be spotted that could not be seen from the boat.  Using a series of hand signals and whistles, the guide would position the boat over schools of fish.  Thinking this to be someone simply interested in helping some weary fishermen, the men did what was suggested by the stranger when he said, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”  They had tried everything else during the long night, so one more time the nets were hauled in and thrown out over the port side.

     Much to their pleasant surprise, the stranger had been right.  The nets settled over a large school of fish and they could hardly get the nets on board the boat.  Before sorting the fish the men looked toward shore to thank the guide for his help.  It was young John, through squinted eyes, who first made out the familiar form on the shoreline; something about the way he walked and held himself.  John turned toward Peter and in a coarse whisper said, “It is the Lord!”

     Peter squinted, also recognized the rabbi, and hurriedly put on his tunic.  “Bring the boat to shore,” Peter instructed and jumped into the sea.  Swimming, thrashing, falling, and sputtering Peter went up on shore.  He had jumped into the lake before at the invitation of his teacher and friend.  This time it didn’t matter that he sank.  Peter wiped the water from his eyes, saw a small fire kindled, and grabbed Jesus in a big bear hug.

     The others struggled and brought the boat to shore, dragging the full net of fish.  Then they, too, saw the small charcoal fire, some bread, and some fish cooking.  The fishermen looked at each other and whispered questioningly about how he had caught fish standing on the shore.  The Lord welcomed each one of them and then turned to Peter and said, “Bring some of the fish you have just caught.”  Peter grabbed the net, pulled out a few fish, and handed them to Jesus.  “Come and have breakfast.  I know you have been hard at work and you must be hungry from the long hours.”

     Jesus then took some of the bread, broke it into pieces, and gave it to the men sitting in the sand beside the warming fire.  Then he gave them some cooked fish.

     Tired faces broke into smiles as they watched him break the bread and feed them as he had done so many times before.  They didn’t have to ask who this was, they knew! 

     This was the third time Jesus had revealed himself to his disciples.  Somehow Peter and the others knew that their fishing for fish days were over.  From now on they would be seeking to catch a different kind of fish.

     The Lord has revealed himself countless millions of times since that day beside the lake.  Peter and the other original fishermen were faithful to their calling to catch other kinds of fish and many after them have also been faithful.  The Lord of this life and the life that is to come has hosted many meals since that morning long ago.  And, every time he says the same thing, “Children, come have something to eat.”

     Hoping that we, too, will be faithful to our calling, that same Lord says again this day, “Children, come have something to eat.”  Amen.