Well, we know that some people only come to worship once or twice a year, at Easter, and at Christmas. None of you, of course; you’re all here, today, one week after Easter.
No, I’m talking about those other people, who just come maybe once a year, hoping to find, once again, the faith that has somehow slipped away from them during the year.
Unfortunately, faith cannot be found at Easter. It can’t. People who come looking for faith on Easter Sunday will leave disappointed.
…Because the search for faith might begin on Easter Sunday, but it does not end on Easter Sunday. A person searching for faith only on Easter Sunday will not find what he is looking for.
Throughout the gospels, Peter is featured more than any of the other disciples: Peter’s call to be a disciple; Peter being given a new name by Jesus; Peter’s skepticism and then surprise at the huge catch of fish; Peter walking on the water; Peter’s confession of faith; Peter’s denial of Jesus; Peter running to the empty tomb.
And although Peter had seen the empty tomb, he did not fully understand its significance. One could say that he had lost his faith the moment the rooster crowed; the moment he realized what a terrible thing he had done, how three times he had denied ever knowing Jesus at the moment Jesus most needed someone to stand by him.
When he heard that the tomb was empty, he ran there. He couldn’t run as fast as the other disciple, but hey, not everyone is a track star … but the other disciple, when he reached the tomb, didn’t go in. He waited for Peter, and Peter, when he got there, went into the tomb.
Peter looked around. What was he looking for? He saw the linen wrappings lying there…. He saw the burial cloth that had been wrapped around Jesus’s head…. But what he was looking for, I think, was faith: the faith he had lost when the rooster crowed.
He did not find it. The scripture says he did not understand, and he returned home.
Some time later, Peter and some of the disciples were sitting around, still trying to make sense of everything: the trial, the crucifixion, the last supper, and everything Jesus had ever told them. What did it all mean? And what are they to do now?
No one had an answer.
Finally, Peter stood up and said, “Well, I can’t stand around here any longer, or I’ll go crazy. We’re getting nowhere with these questions. The only thing that makes sense to me right now is to go fishing. Fishing, I understand.”
That sounded like a good idea to the rest of them, so they all crowded into the boat, and headed out.
For many of them, it was while they were fishing that they first encountered Jesus. No surprise there, as many of them were fishermen. It was while they were sitting in their boat, or mending their nets, that they first heard Jesus’ call to discipleship, and decided to follow him.
It all seemed so much simpler then. Perhaps if they returned to fishing, went back to what they knew, things would become clear; perhaps, out there on the water, they would find some of the answers they were looking for. If they could just reclaim that moment from the past, maybe they could find their faith once again.
But it didn’t happen quite that way.
It ended up being a disappointing, disheartening, dispiriting night. All night they were out there, and they caught nothing. Not one fish. Emotionally, they were just as discouraged and confused as ever; spiritually, they were just as lost; and now, to top it all off, they were physically tired and hungry.
At sunrise, they saw a man standing on the shore. He called out to them, a little too cheerily, “Hey! Kids! You don’t have any fish, do you?”
“No. No, we do not.”
The man on the shore said, “Well, cast your nets on the right side of the boat, and you’ll find some.”
You know, sometimes – especially when you’re tired – it’s just easier to amuse someone than it is to argue with them. So the disciples did as the man suggested.
Immediately, their nets were overflowing with fish!
Peter was still confused, and didn’t know what to make of all this. One of the other disciples saw the confused look on Peter’s face, and playfully punched him in the arm and said, “Peter! It’s the Lord!”
Excited, Peter jumped into the water and swam to shore, while the others came in the boat, dragging the nets because the nets were too full and too heavy to haul in.
Jesus cooked them breakfast: fresh fish and warm bread.
Jesus took the bread, blessed it, broke it, and gave it to them… and he did the same with the fish.
Then Jesus spoke directly to Peter. Using Peter’s original, given name (instead of the nickname he had given him), Jesus said, “Simon son of John … do you love me?”
Oh, why do you have to ask me that, Jesus? In that question, I hear the pain. I hear echoes of my failure. I hear reminders of the faith I once had, the faith I lost… but, yes Lord. You know that I love you.
Then Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs…. Simon son of John … do you love me?”
What, are you asking me again? You’re killing me! Yes, Lord! You know that I love you!
Jesus said, “Then tend my sheep… Simon son of John…”
Yyyeeeesssss, Lord?
“Do you love me?”
A third time. Three times Peter had denied Jesus, denied his love for him, denied that he ever knew him.
Three times, Jesus asked: “Do you love me.”
Now Peter was hurt. His failure, and the wound it left, was now fully exposed. All the pain and sorrow of that moment was now front and center.
It would have been so much easier if Jesus had asked Peter’s opinion regarding some issue of doctrine….
“Peter, is my resurrected body is physical or spiritual? Peter, am I literally here, or metaphorically present? Peter, what is the relationship between my divine nature and my human nature?
“What’s your take on social issues and cultural controversies? Are you a republican or a democrat? Did you go to the synagogue on the holy day of obligation? What does it mean to be born again – or, born anew? When I told you that the bread is my body, is that transubstantiation, or consubstantiation? Are you pre-millenial or post-millenial, new light or old light, conservative or progressive, evangelical or emergent?”
Any of these questions would have been easier to answer than answering – for the third time –
“Do you love me?”
But none of those questions would help Peter find the faith that he had lost.
“Simon son of John: Do you love me?”
“Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”
“Then feed my sheep. Don’t abandon me, but do the work to which I’ve called you. Don’t say you love me today, and deny me tomorrow. Don’t glance in the empty tomb today, and forget about me tomorrow. You won’t find your faith that way…
“Only by showing your love for me 365 days a year – or, 366, as the case may be – will you find your faith. And the way to show your love for me is to feed – and care for – my sheep, serving especially those who are the least of all: serving the poor, the outcast, the hungry and the oppressed;
welcoming strangers;
showing hospitality;
granting safe refuge to foreigners and immigrants;
caring for the sick;
speaking out for justice;
living simply, serving God rather than money;
bringing healing, wholeness, and new life to those who live in a fragmented world.
“Show me that you love me, not just one day of the year, not just one day of the week, but every day, every hour, every minute.”
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