This is a story about Peter.
And as it turns out, our story actually starts several weeks before we find Peter fishing – standing outside the courtyard of a high priest on the night Jesus has been arrested. Peter stands, warming himself at a charcoal fire among the guards and slaves of the high priest. Three times that night, he is asked whether he is a disciple of Jesus. And – we know the story – three times he denies his role as a disciple – his place in the community.
From there, things unfold so quickly we sort of lose sight of Peter. Jesus is arrested, crucified, dies, and is buried. Another familiar story. We don’t hear from Peter again until the third day, when he races to the tomb and discovers it empty. From there, the risen Christ appears to the disciples twice.
We’re not really sure how much time has passed between that last appearance and our story this morning. But here we pick back up with Peter – who’s fishing.
By all accounts, this should be a joyous fishing trip. A celebration of the risen Christ and promises fulfilled. A reminder that we are, after all, an Easter people in a post-Easter world. But this morning, fishing hits a little different. It doesn’t feel celebratory. It feels escapist. There’s a darkness around this story that seems to go beyond the early morning hour.
A few things about Peter.
When we met Peter he was a fisherman. He fit cleanly into society, knew his place and he could live with that. Fishermen didn’t make waves, they didn’t rock the boat. They could blend in,
enjoy a fairly easy and comfortable existence in the chaos and political turmoil that was challenging the world around them.
He’s also what I call a try hard. Peter strives to be perfect. To go above and beyond. To be the BEST disciple Jesus has ever seen. Instead of having his feet washed, Peter asks for his whole body to be cleansed. He literally races another disciple to the tomb on Easter morning. And this morning, while the other disciples logically row to shore to meet Jesus, Peter jumps in and swims the distance. He’s the definition of extra. If discipleship is a contest, Peter is in it to win it. Throughout John all Peter wanted was to be the BEST disciple, and yet, in the moment of truth, he denies his belonging.
So, when we think about it, it’s not all that surprising that Peter has gone back to this simpler way of life in the aftermath of the crucifixion and the resurrection. I think that Peter went fishing this morning because it’s all he could do.
This is a story about Peter, but it’s also a story about shame.
If we put ourselves in Peter’s shoes (which we actually can’t, because it turns out he’s naked), we’d likely be feeling a bit overwhelmed. The rollercoaster of the past few weeks would be
staggering. He’s seen the greatest miracle, but he’s also witnessed (and been party to) the greatest tragedy.
I think the shame he feels must be overwhelming.
And so his response is familiar. When pain and shame and confusion infiltrate our days, and there’s no sense of relief or respite in sight, it’s easy to regress. To go back to a time or an identity that just made more sense. That didn’t rock the boat or dream of walking on water. That didn’t require tenacity and bravery and steadfastness to just exist.
As people of faith – regardless of what that faith is – life feels like a constant test and an impossible task. Our charge is to see beyond the pain and despair: Seek the holy. Recognize the good. Have faith – war in Ukraine, political turmoil, hunger, accelerating climate change, rising cases of COVID, diminished access to healthcare, addiction, billionaires that could solve these problems and CHOOSE not to.
Believe in what you cannot see. Love your enemy. Keep calm and pray. Preach the good news. These aren’t easy asks. Yet they are our charges. And when we fail to meet them – which we
do, because we’re human – maybe we, too, feel the shame Peter feels. Maybe we share the sense that a true disciple, a true Christian or Jew or Muslim or Taoist, wouldn’t stumble. And so we retreat, convinced we’re not worthy of belonging.
This morning, I think Peter just wants his easy, uncomplicated life back. And we can allow it, because we get it. We’re right there with him. We feel the call of our past lives, the ease with which we can move through life if we slip out of that baptismal covenant, those promises of faith.
If we, like Peter, deny our place in community, we can more easily judge people. Forgetting we’re all children of God, we can make assumptions about the religion of others, we can make sweeping generalizations about our brothers and sisters who don’t look or act or talk or worship like we do. And, more than that, if we deny who we are – we can’t be judged or hindered by our fear we might not meet others’ expectations of who we ought to be or what a person of true faith looks like. In our denial, our backwards movement, we take away the risk of rejection and our fear we might not be enough.
I think life as a disciple of Jesus, at this time, must have been a most impossible ask. I think it must have been intimidating as hell and I think, for Peter, who always tried to be perfect, it must have felt terrifying.
This is a story about Peter and shame, but it’s also a story about belonging.
If you’ve done much reading on belonging – or shame – you’ve likely come across Brené Brown. A shame researcher, she said something about belonging that felt particularly relevant to Peter in this moment. She said:
Belonging is the innate human desire to be part of something larger than us. Because this yearning is so primal, we often try to acquire it by fitting in and by seeking approval, which are not only hollow substitutes for belonging, but often barriers to it. Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world, our sense of belonging can never be greater than our level of self-acceptance.
What Peter was a part of – the community he belonged to – was next level. The world he lived in was not unlike our own: one in deep need of revolution. And he was in the inner circle. He was part of the answer people were desperately seeking.
And I sympathize with Peter. I have found myself belonging to communities of impossibly smart and passionate people who, despite being lovely and good and nonjudgemental people, leave me feeling unworthy, just by their qualifications alone. I know the urge to overreach, the fear that what I bring isn’t enough and the need to prove myself in the midst of such expertise.
I want to remind Peter that Jesus called him, sought him out, and invited him in. Peter wasn’t in some interview process where his fate hung in the balance. While Peter was trying so hard to prove himself, that he could belong, Jesus had already chosen him. Already welcomed him into community and belonging.
This is a story about Peter, and shame, and belonging. But it’s also a story about Jesus.
It takes Jesus 4 verses to show up. And, not to pile on here, but they haven’t been having very much luck fishing – while we can understand the pull of their old ways, we can’t deny that they don’t seem very well suited to it. They have no fish when Jesus appears. And the disciples don’t recognize him right away – which…is becoming an ongoing theme – their inability to recognize Christ among them.
Karoline Lewis, a professor of Biblical Teaching at Luther Seminary connects when the disciples realize it’s Jesus standing on the shore – “the moment of recognition of Jesus in this story?
When lack is transformed to abundance. When despair is moved to hope. When abandonment is replaced with the restoration of relationship.”
After feeding the disciples, Jesus pulls Peter aside. In a conversation reminiscent of Peter’s denial just a few weeks prior, even down to the charcoal fire. Jesus asks him three times if Peter loves him. With each of Peter’s affirmations, Jesus gives him a charge: feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep. In this moment, Jesus reminds Peter of his identity, his calling as a disciple of Christ, and gives him a clear way to get involved again. And in fact, Jesus has modeled it all for Peter, right there on the shore. He extends an invitation for Peter to return to the community he once denied.
Last thing. Now, this isn’t a story of Jesus forgiving Peter. And that’s really important. This is a story of Jesus, inviting Peter to forgive himself. To reconcile his true self with his discipleship
and his place in community. Jesus isn’t concerned about Peter’s denial (he knew it was coming,
after all), or the mistakes he made in the past. He’s concerned that Peter hasn’t forgiven himself. Hasn’t found his way back to right relationship with who he is. And it’s important enough, that Jesus came back.
Another word from Brené on belonging:
True belonging is the spiritual practice of believing in and belonging to yourself so deeply that you can share your most authentic self with the world and find sacredness in both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness. True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are.
This is the good news. This is what Jesus came back to tell Peter: There is a place for you here
– and you needn’t be anyone else. You were chosen and you belong – just as you are. Thanks be to God.
— Presider to give Interfaith Prayer —
Let us turn to God in prayer.
For our world, hurting and wanting, in the throes of war and an ongoing pandemic and the day to day challenges of life that just feel too hard, we pray: Risen savior, hear our prayer.
For the community of believers, that we may better recognize all the ways the holy moves in and amongst us we pray: Risen savior, hear our prayer.
For those battling shame and struggling to find a place of true belonging, that we may realize and accept our true, authentic self and discover the sacredness of both being a part of something and standing alone in the wilderness we pray: Risen savior, hear our prayer.
For our community here at Holy Wisdom, that this space may continue to be a respite and a welcoming stop along the way for all who seek to learn and celebrate and grow through our shared stories and diverse beliefs, we pray: Risen savior, hear our prayer.
ALL TOGETHER, WE NOW MENTION ALOUD THE PEOPLE AND CONCERNS WE WISH TO PRAY FOR.
FOR THESE PRAYERS, FOR THE PRAYERS LISTED IN OUR BOOK OF INTENTIONS, AND THOSE WE HOLD SILENTLY IN OUR HEARTS, WE PRAY: Risen savior, hear our prayer.
O GOD,
WE BRING YOU THESE PRAYERS
AND THE NEEDS THAT ARE IN THE HEARTS OF EACH ONE OF US. CONTINUE TO SHOW YOUR SAVING GRACE IN OUR LIVES THROUGH JESUS THE CHRIST. AMEN.
REMAINING AT YOUR PLACE, GREET ONE ANOTHER WITH A BOW OR OTHER GESTURE AS A SIGN OF GOD’S PEACE.