After All is Said & Done – Let’s Eat

After all the words have been said about the resurrection, what should we do?  Let’s eat and give thanks!

Simona Frenkel & Choir sing: “He watches”

You’d think that life on the other side of Easter would be great.  After all what could be better than knowing that Jesus had risen.  Nothing to fear anymore, not even death.  But that’s not what it was like for the disciples on the other side of Easter.  By all accounts the resurrection was met with fear, trembling, great sadness and doubt.

Pastors will tell you that they can’t wait for Easter to end.  Who can sustain that level of energy?  Musicians get a chance to rest from all of the special music that must be rehearsed and performed at a near perfect pitch.  About the only people who are sad that Easter has ended are the florists.

Life after Easter returns to normal at least it did for the disciples.  What did Peter, James and John and the others do after the resurrection? They went home to the place where it all began.  It was a natural thing to do – going back home.  There were seven of them, John says, which means that they were already disbanding.

These seven decide to go back to the fishing business, makes sense because that’s what they did best, the others who knows where they went.  But these seven return to the occupation they know best.

And it isn’t the relaxed kind of fishing that you might image when you think of fishing. They don’t fish with lines and hooks; they fish with big heavy nets that smell of seaweed and dried fish scales, and they haul these nets out of the water and into the boat, over and over, with hands that are calloused from years and years of casting and knotting, and straining against these big rope nets.

Jesus is gone, after all.  They haven’t seen him in three weeks, not since they left Jerusalem, and while that was a time that none of them will ever forget, it’s time to get on with life.  Memory is one thing, but the future is another.  His life on earth may have ended, but not theirs, and they have to be about getting food on their daily tables.

So they go fishing each of them sunk in his own thought as he climbs into the old familiar boat again, one of them reaching out to steady the bow while the others step inside and take their familiar places, swamped with déjà vu. Back to where it had all begun. But now? – like some distant dream.

So it’s business as usual, back to the grind, only this time it doesn’t work.  They fish all night long without catching a single thing.  Time after frustrating time their nets come up empty, a perfect match for their hearts.

And just as dawn is breaking they hear this distant voice ask:  “Children, have you any fish?”  It’s a question that the stranger already knows the answer to.  And so, with a tone mixed, with frustration, sadness, anger and even a bit of resignation, they reply, “No.”

But what a great question, “Children do you have any fish?”  At first glance it seems the question is merely rhetorical, but if we were to translate into our everyday vernacular the question would be more like this:

“How are you doing?  Are you doing well?  How’s it going?  Are you satisfied in your work?  Are you successful in your labors?  “Children do you have anything to show for the time you spent doing whatever it is that you do?”

Notice that he doesn’t ask about their discipleship, he doesn’t ask if they are finding spiritual comfort and moral perfection.  He asks them a realistic question.

Are you getting satisfaction out of what you are doing?  What do you have to show for all your efforts, all your investments on this side of Easter?”

And the answer is simple: nothing.  We have worked all night and have absolutely nothing to show for our labor, nothing to show for what we depend upon to eat and live?  Nothing.

Some stranger says:  “Cast your net on the right side of the boat and you’ll find some.”  Try the other side.  Cast your net is some other area, in some other place.  Try something else, something new, something different.

The world is filled with folks who are good people but they are trapped into making a living rather than making a life. Good people leading lives of quiet desperation.  Good people asking themselves:  “Is this all there is?”  What happened to my joy?  What happened to my imagination?  What happened to my dreams?  I guess they headed off without me.

And that’s when the stranger comes to them and says:  “Try the other side.”  So they do and the water begins to boil, with so many fish that they fear that their nets will break.  And its déjà vuall over again:  the boats, the nets, and the stranger calling out to them.

The beloved disciple cries, “It’s the Lord!”  And all pandemonium breaks out.  Peter as usual throws himself into the water, something he’s becoming known for and once again he leaves the heavy rowing and lifting to the others.

“Come” he says, and have breakfast.” If you’ve ever had breakfast on a beach then your imagination is already working overtime:  Cooper colored coals, glowing in the sand, heat rising in the cold morning air, wood smoke curling through your hair, fish sizzling over flames, the sound of the sea lapping up against the shore.

“It’s déjà vu all over again!”  But this time Jesus isn’t serving supper.  That was the last meal of their old life together.  This is the first meal of their new life together – resurrection breakfast, prepared by the only one who knows how good life on the other side can be.

I don’t know why so many of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearance have something to do with food, maybe they were all Presbyterians and just didn’t know it yet, or maybe it’s because eating is so necessary to life, and so is he.  In any case it’s one of the clues to his presence.  There’s always the chance, when we’re eating together, that we’ll discover God in our midst.

This story is full of clues for those times when we’re marooned on the sea in the middle of the night, afraid that we have come to the end of something without any idea how to begin again. It’s probably a good idea to pay attention to strangers, especially those who seem to know things about you that they really have no way of knowing.

Whether they are giving you unsolicited advice about where to cast your nets or walking with you and opening hope back up to you.  It’s probably a good idea to pay attention to them since Jesus has a tendency to keep appearing in a new disguise.

There’s another clue that he might just be somewhere near to you.  It’s a sudden change of fortune – not rags to riches, but a sudden change in the way your life looks to you.  One moment it looks hopeless and the next you see possibilities you never saw before. One moment the net is empty and the next it’s not.

“It’s the Lord!” That’s what the beloved disciple said.  How did he know?  How does anyone know?  By staying on the lookout, I suppose.  By living in great expectation and refusing to believe that our nets will stay empty or our nights will last forever.

For those with ears to hear, there’s a voice that can turn all of our dead ends into new beginnings.  “Come on,” the voice says, “a new day’s dawning. Let’s eat!  What more is there to say!  Maybe – it’s Thanks!  I’ll lift a glass in celebration of that!  Amen