Second Sunday after Easter-May 1, 2022
It was an odd feeling. Standing there by Old Vic, the Pratt Library in front of me, the grey stone walls of Emmanuel College off to my right. Undergraduate students, laden down with books, hurrying by. Nine years before that had been mr. So much had happened since – I had joined the Foreign Service of the then, Department of Employment and Immigration. I had lived in Buenos Aires, Ottawa, Tel Aviv and Manila. I had interviewed thousands of people, each with their own unique story. These experiences had changed me. I was not the same as the 21 year old who had nervously knelt at the University Chancellor’s feet to receive her degree. And yet, here I was – back living with my parents, and lining up to register – albeit for Emmanuel rather than Victoria College – I almost felt as if those nine years had never been or were just some sort of dream. I was once more a student attending classes, reading weighty tomes and writing papers. My life had come full circle.
I wonder if Peter, James and John feel like that as they stand on the shore of the Sea of Galilee? They are back where they were three years before when Jesus walked into their lives, saying: “follow me and I will make you fishers of human beings.” No more throwing and hauling in nets; no more mending of torn mesh. They would be travellers – journeying from place to place with Jesus. They would be observers – watching Jesus’ heal and interact with both welcoming crowds and disapproving critics. They would be students – listening to his teaching and asking questions. They would be interns or apprentices – heading off two by two to spread the good news of God’s love and restore broken lives to wholeness – just like Jesus. It seemed as if their lives would be forever changed. But now, as evening falls, Peter announces: “I am going fishing”, and the others chime in: “we will go with you.” They have come full circle: once more they will be out on the water all night long; they will be fishing, but not for people.
In your life, have you ever felt you were going in circles? Can you relate with Bill Murray, the central character in the movie “Ground Hog Day”? A weatherman, he had only very reluctantly accepted the assignment to report on whether or not the ground hog saw its shadow on February 2nd. But then he is stuck repeating that same day over and over again. Perhaps, we’ve all felt a bit like that during this pandemic, as cut off from our normal activities, one day seemed to blend in with another. In the beginning, I assumed that covid-19 would follow a similar path to the SARS outbreak of 2003-04. Our medical people would deal with it and we would be back to normal. But here it is 2022, and we are in our sixth wave. How many times have restrictions been eased, have gyms and restaurants re-opened only to be closed once more and lockdowns re-imposed. How often have we thought we were seeing the light at the end of the tunnel only to discover it was the headlight of a fast approaching new, even more contagious variant? Lining up a week ago, masked and socially distanced for my fourth covid vaccination, I had the feeling of: here we go again.
Sometimes, it can feel as if we are going in circles. Just ask parents who thought their adult children were well and truly launched only to have them circle back to the nest because of job loss or high housing costs or the breakdown of a relationship or illness or in my case, a decision to return to school. Just ask individuals dealing with addictions. They are doing well – steering clear of drugs; staying sober; avoiding gambling. They are beginning to think: this is it; I am on a new path. When for reasons neither they nor anyone else may fully understand, they fall off the wagon, and are back at square one. Just think about your own behaviours or attitudes or reactions – the ones you have tried to amend over the years. How often have you thought: “I am making real progress with my impatience, anger management, propensity to judge or complain” – whatever it is – only to see yourself slipping right back?
Peter, James and John have come full circle. They are back to the occupation they knew first, the occupation in which they have years and years of experience. What could go wrong? But they fish all night and catch nothing. This sounds exactly like the first time we met these fishers in the gospel of Luke. Are they caught in their own version of ground hog day? Will this leave them feeling stressed, anxious or depressed like a rising number of people during this pandemic? If this continues, will they be robbed of all hope as Bill Murray’s character was for a time, and give way to despair?
As the sun rises, they spot a figure on the beach. There’s a charcoal fire and in the air, the aroma of grilling fish and warm bread. This person takes an interest in them and their activity. When he learns of their lack of success, he even has a helpful suggestion: “cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” They follow his advice. Their nets are filled to bursting. In that moment, Peter recognizes that this figure is none other than the risen Christ. In that moment, they no longer seem as stuck.
What a difference it can make when someone notices what is happening with us, and takes an interest. Whether that be a sponsor in a Twelve Step programme who is ready to respond to a call when temptation looms and a slip is imminent or other parents who nod sympathetically and gently share the wisdom they have gleaned as their own children circled back home or a friend who listens patiently. For over twenty years, I have had the privilege of meeting regularly with Alexandra Caverly Lowery, an Anglican laywoman, a retired dancer, a spiritual companion and therapist. She is familiar with my issues. She hears me when I say: “I thought I had dealt with this years ago, and yet, here I go again. I am tired of this!” She is sympathetic. At the same time, as a good spiritual companion, she poses the classic “I wonder” questions: “I wonder if Spirit is at work here. I wonder if there is more for you to learn; more growing for you to do.” Just when I am ready to petulantly declare: “I have had enough of all this learning and growing”, she adds: “it may feel as if you are caught going round and round in circles. However, the spiritual path is actually a spiral. Each time, we find ourselves facing the same issue, challenge, problem, situation, we are in a different position, even if only slightly. The Spirit is at work in us. We are spiralling forward.”
With food filling their empty bellies, and with Christ’s presence nourishing their weary souls, the disciples are no longer stuck. They are ready to set out once more on their mission as apostles – as sent ones – spreading the good news – life is stronger than death, goodness than evil, love than hate – and offering healing to restore human beings to fullness of life. But the encounter with the risen Christ isn’t over yet. At least for Peter.
Last time we met Peter standing beside a charcoal fire, it was in the courtyard of the high priest, and Jesus was on trial for his life. It was while warming himself beside this fire that Peter, who had insisted: “I will lay down my life for you”, three times denied even knowing his leader, his teacher, his friend, just as Jesus had predicted. There has been no opportunity for Peter to tell Jesus how very sorry he is. There has been no chance for Peter to receive Jesus’ forgiveness. As a result, he is probably still carrying a load of regret and guilt. When we are burdened like that, there is a tendency to keep looking back, reliving the past – how could we have said that? how could we have done that? why did we stay silent? why didn’t we take action? If only we had… If only we hadn’t… When regret is consuming us, when guilt is making us question our self-worth and ask whether anyone could ever love us, we are blocked from moving forward on our spiral path of faith.
There by that charcoal fire, Jesus, gazing at Peter, asks: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” It’s a question Peter finds hard to hear. He left everything and everyone to journey with Jesus. He opened himself up to new ways of being and acting. He broke with tradition by becoming part of an unconventional, diverse community of women and men. Didn’t all of this prove, in no uncertain terms, that he loved Jesus? And yet, Jesus goes on to ask that same question two more times: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Is this deliberate? On that Thursday night, Peter denied having anything to do with Jesus three times. Now, he has the opportunity to affirm his love three times.
Jesus, the good Shepherd, responds by entrusting Peter with responsibility for the care – feeding and tending – of his flock. Peter may not have stood by Jesus as he promised, but far from rejecting him as a disciple, Jesus is turning Peter into an apostle who will carry on his work and ministry. Jesus’ words and actions enable Peter to lay down his burden of regret and guilt, shut the door on the past and become open once more to the future.
At times in our lives we may feel stuck, doomed to going round and round in circles. But thanks be to the Spirit who works in us through just such moments. Thanks be to Christ who sets us free from any regret and guilt that would hold us back. Thanks be to the Creator who keeps encouraging us to travel forward on the spiral path of faith.