Immediately after the worship service on May 5, 2019, we had a special congregational meeting regarding (expensive!) repairs to the church steeple, so this sermon on John 21:1-19 alludes to that. I found great inspiration in Lisa Jenkins’ lectionary commentary in the April 24 issue of The Christian Century. Here’s my sermon:
I am not a fisherman, and there are a few reasons why. First, until just a couple years ago, I really hated eating fish, so trying to catch them seemed like a waste of time.
Second, as a kid my grandparents’ had a cottage on a lake, and standing on the dock with my little Snoopy fishing pole was fun, until Grandpa told me to stick the hook through the worm.
And the third reason I’ve never been a fisherman is if I’m just going to sit still waiting for something to happen, I’d much rather read a book than stare at a lake. It’s frustrating when you’re not catching anything, which is what’s happening for the disciples in this story.
It’s a few days after Easter, and the disciples are still processing what’s happened. They’re not really sure what to do next, so they’ve gone back to what they know, which is fishing, but they’re not having any luck.
All night, the disciples have been trying the same thing, and it’s not working. They’re putting tons of effort in, throwing the nets in the water and pulling them out again over and over. Even in the cool of the night on the lake, they’re working hard enough that Peter’s taken off his clothes.
Remember, at least some of the disciples in this group are professional fishermen. They know what they’re doing. But as hard as they try, it’s just not working.
Have you ever had that experience of doing your best, trying your hardest, and meeting with no success? These guys are putting in the overtime, working the night shift, and nothing.
They’re ready to give up. Maybe you’ve been there.
Then what has to be the most annoying thing happens. It’s about dawn and nothing’s worked, and they’re tired, and frustrated, and this guy standing on the beach says, “Hey kids, you didn’t catch anything, did you?”
If they’re anything like most of us, I can just see them gritting their teeth, thinking of snarky comments to yell back to this guy. “We know what we’re doing; we don’t need any unsolicited advice.” Or maybe, “What, you think you could do any better?”
Even when things aren’t going well, we humans have a tendency to keep trying the same things. They worked before, so if we can just do them well enough, if we can just try harder, if everyone else would just do their part, then it’ll work.
There are so many things they’d like to say to this guy, but they settle on the polite but blunt, “No.”
No elaboration. Just no. If it were me, my face would get tense, I’d take a deep breath, and it’d be a pretty sharp “Nope” with what I think is a pretty clear implication no further comments from the peanut gallery are needed.
But this guy keeps talking. “Cast the net to the other side of the boat, and you will find some.”
All John tells us is, “So they cast it.” I’m not sure it was quite that simple. Thomas is there, and we know how practical and skeptical he can be. You know he’s thinking, “If the fish are down there, it doesn’t matter what side of the boat the net is on. They’re fish. They swim back and forth. How dumb is this guy?” Someone chimes in, maybe Nathanael, “Let’s just try it and get it over with.” So, they try it.
And of course, when they try it, when they change their routine, everything changes. They put the net on the other side and suddenly they’re overwhelmed with fish, but the fish are not really the point.
After all, and I missed this the first few times I read the story, Jesus already has fish cooking on the fire. The fish aren’t that important. The point is that when the disciples try something different, they’re able to recognize Jesus.
Only when they’re open to something new do they realize Jesus is standing there, calling to them. I wonder where Jesus is calling us to try something different. In those times in your life when you’re frustrated, trying your hardest and nothing’s working, maybe it’s worth stopping and listening for Jesus calling.
What in your life might Jesus be calling you to stop doing, stop spending time and energy so you can do something different, something more effective?
The disciples weren’t wrong in what they were doing. Jesus doesn’t tell them to stop fishing. But he tells them to think outside the box, or more specifically, to think on the other side of the boat.
One of the things I appreciate in this story is that the disciples have what they need to accomplish their goals. They have a boat; they have nets. They even have the knowledge and experience of how fishing should work. Jesus doesn’t tell them they need to start over, or get a new boat, or go back to school in order to catch fish. He simply tells them to use what they have in a different way.
Maybe I’m trying too hard, but I think there’s a parallel for us as a church. We’re voting this weekend on repairs to the steeple.
We have a great building, and lots of people who do a great job taking care of it. This building has served us well for longer than any of us here have been alive, and God willing, it will be here long after all of us are gone.
At the same time, this building looks a lot different than it did a few decades ago. The way this tool is used changes over time, yet the purpose is the same: To help us recognize Jesus. My hope and prayer for this meeting today is both that we understand the value of this building and continue to take good care of it, and that we look for new ways to use it for God’s work.
The church is not the building; the church is the people, you and I, God’s children claimed in the waters of baptism and nourished at the Lord’s table. God has blessed us richly with many gifts, with everything we need to fulfill the mission to which we are called.
I don’t know if they were happy about it or not, but the disciples do take a chance and cast their nets on the other side, and of course, it works, which is no surprise to us. It wouldn’t be much of a story if it didn’t work, would it? But for them, it’s a miracle, and they know someone who does miracles.
Peter is not the first one to figure out what’s going on, but once he gets it, he’s all in—literally. He throws on some clothes and jumps into the water, leaving the others to drag in the net full of fish. They’re probably used to it by now.
Once they get to shore, Jesus gives some instructions: “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.”
This is not an entirely new mission. All of them have heard Jesus say the words, “Follow me” before. They were all there that night when he washed their feet and told them he was giving them a new commandment, to love one another. They’ve even heard him talk about being the good shepherd before.
But this is still a new experience for them. Now they know where following Jesus’ instructions can lead them. They’ve seen that this work can lead to death, and they’ve seen the proof that death is not the end. Do you love me? Feed my sheep.
As we think about how Jesus wants us to use our resources and gifts as a congregation, this command is a good place to start. We are in the business of feeding sheep.
Sometimes that’s physical, and we have lots of opportunities to share food and shelter and disaster relief and quilts and other physical, tangible gifts with our neighbors. Other times, tending sheep is spiritual, praying for our neighbors, sharing the good news of Jesus, helping others to recognize who it is who’s standing on the shore calling to them. Sometimes, we’re the ones doing the work. Other times, we’re sending people on our behalf, whether it’s as representatives on the food bank board, or a group to serve in Houston.
Most importantly, we are here to obey the last part of Jesus’ instructions to Simon Peter. It’s the last sentence of the Gospel reading: “After this he said to him, ‘Follow me.’”
I invite you to join me in prayer:
Lord Jesus, we give you thanks for all the gifts you give us, for the promise of new life, and for a sense of purpose and calling in life. Help each of us to follow you. Shake us up. Stir us from our routines.
Push us beyond where we are comfortable, so that we may obey your command to feed your sheep and tend your lambs. By your Holy Spirit, guide us so that your will may be done through us. In Jesus’ name, we pray.
Amen.