“There’s More to the Story” (John 21:1-25)

For the last couple of Sundays we’ve been reading from John 20—the beloved disciple’s dramatic account of Jesus’ resurrection. We’ve stood with Mary Magdalene weeping outside the empty tomb as she mistook the risen Jesus for the gardener. And we’ve been with the disciples in the upper room as they listened to Thomas declare, “Unless I see the nail marks in his hands and put my fingers where the nails were…, I will not believe.”

Of course these are not the only incidents that the gospels recount of the miraculous events of that first Easter. My personal favourite has to be the one that Luke tells us, of the two disciples making their way to Emmaus, when they were joined by a shadowy stranger along the road. It was only as he broke bread with them in their home that they recognized that they had been with Jesus.

No doubt there were numerous other encounters between the risen Christ and his followers that have been lost to us. And John says as much in the final verses of chapter 20:

Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples, which are not written in this book; but these are written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

It would almost seem at this point as though John had reached his conclusion. He puts down his pen. But then he pauses. “Wait a minute!” he says to himself. “There’s one more story that I must tell. And here is how it happened…”

The comfort of the familiar

The scene this time is by the Sea of Galilee. It is early in the morning and the mist is slowly rising from the tranquil surface of the lake. Seven of them had decided to go fishing. And so they had pushed out the night before and let down their nets.

I remember years ago when Karen and I were cottaging with our children in St Margaret’s Bay. I thought I should give them an experience of fishing. I had memories of going out in a rowboat to fish with my dad and brothers and rarely catching anything. And so, if nothing else, I thought to myself, it might teach our kids some patience.

Well, we were barely minutes out on the bay when the water around us was teeming with fish. I’m talking hundreds of them. And it seemed as though they were begging to be caught, practically jumping into our boat. What we didn’t realize was that we had rowed right into the middle of a school of mackerel—and it didn’t take us long to haul in enough to feed our family of five. So much for a lesson on patience!

Sadly, that was not the experience of Peter and his companions. They had fished all night and hadn’t anything to show for it. But I’m not altogether sure that it mattered. My suspicion is that they had not gone back to Galilee and to their fishing boats to earn some cash. No, they had gone back because it was familiar. It was somewhere that they could be quiet, somewhere that perhaps they might at least begin to process the whirlwind of events that they had become embroiled in over the previous few weeks.

Try to imagine for a moment what their lives had been like. They had marched into Jerusalem to the cheers of triumphant crowds shouting “Hosanna!” and waving their fronds of palm. Days later they had looked on powerlessly as the one they had come to revere as the Messiah was arrested, savagely beaten and nailed up to breathe out his last on a cross. Then only days after that they were confronted with the news that he was alive—and soon they were seeing him for themselves in front of their very own eyes.

To say that they had been on an emotional roller coaster would be an understatement. So should it be any wonder that they would want to go back to the lake, back to where things were quiet, back to where life was predictable? And besides, hadn’t Jesus himself instructed the women to tell them that they would see him in Galilee? (Matthew 28:10)

Peter, Thomas and the others just needed a break. So it was only human that they should retreat to the comfort of the familiar. And the wonderful thing was that Jesus met them there. “Buddies, you don’t have any fish, do you?” came a voice through the mist from a figure on the shore. “No,” they replied. “Then try casting your net on the right-hand side of your boat.”

I can imagine them thinking to themselves, “What does this guy know? Oh well, I suppose it can’t do any harm.” So with aching backs and arms from working all night, they let down their net. It seemed that no sooner had it sunk under the water than it was loaded with fish. And then it began to sink in—the strange familiarity about what was happening. It had been three years before, at one of their first encounters with Jesus that an almost identical scenario had unfolded (Luke 5:1-11).

Now there was no question in their minds as to who the figure was that was calling out to them. And hardly a split second was lost before Peter was splashing through the water on his way to meet him.

Some years ago a friend of mine wrote a book which she entitled, God Meets Us Where We Are. And it seems to me that that is the point of this incident. Jesus comes to us at our points of loneliness and sorrow, our times of fatigue and doubt. He doesn’t wait for us to come to him. He is the good shepherd, who seeks out his lost sheep until he finds them and brings them home. He is the one who graciously invites you and me, “Come to me, all who labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28)

Right now we’re heading into what for many is the busiest time of the year. Three weeks ago I was already hearing “Jingle Bells” in one of the stores—and it wasn’t even Hallowe’en yet! If you can do it, may I suggest that somehow, amid all the rush and bother of this season, you try to find the time to go to your own personal Sea of Galilee and let Jesus meet you there and nourish you as he did those first disciples. Even if it isn’t for any more than a few minutes, I have no doubt that Jesus will not disappoint you.

The call to serve

Of course the story does not end there. After the last of the fish and the bread have been eaten, Jesus turns to Peter and asks him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” Peter replies, “you know that I love you.” To which Jesus replies, “Feed my lambs.” Then a second time Jesus says to Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Again Peter answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And Jesus says, “Tend my sheep.” Hardly have the words left Peter’s mouth before Jesus asks a third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

John tells us that Peter was grieved when Jesus asked him the same question the third time around. In fact, I don’t think it would be going too far to say that those words pierced into the depths of into Peter’s soul. Why do you think that was so? Because not that many days before, at Jesus’ moment of greatest need, Peter had denied even knowing him three times.

Peter could not have missed Jesus’ intent. And I can only imagine that it was with lips quivering and tears welling up in his eyes that Peter managed to blubber out the words for the third time: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” To which Jesus tells him once again, “Feed my sheep.”

What encouragement I find in that dialogue! I am embarrassed and ashamed when I think of the number of times I have failed Jesus since I first began to follow him. And perhaps you might say the same of yourself.

Indeed, when it comes down to it, none of us is equal to the task of serving God. Yet that is a pattern that we see from beginning to end in Scripture. Think of it: Jacob was a deceiver, Moses was a stutterer, Ruth was a penniless widow, David was an adulterer, Jonah was a coward, and on and on the list goes… Yet God empowered and equipped each of them to serve him in remarkable ways. And in his grace Jesus still calls and trusts the likes of you and me to serve him.

Your name may never be in the headlines, but there will be people whose lives were made better because of having known you. You may never be aware of it. You may not remember what you said or did and they may never tell you. But in the end you will hear your Master say to you, “Well done, good and faithful servant.” (Matthew 25:23)

The cost of discipleship

Discipleship is an immeasurable privilege. But our passage this morning warns us that it often comes with a cost. And in these closing verses of John’s gospel Jesus warned that for Peter that cost would be his life.

Tradition tells us that Peter’s journey of discipleship led him to Rome. In the year 64 that city was struck by a disastrous fire. The blaze raged unchecked for nearly ten days, destroying over 70% of the city. And the ruins were still smouldering when rumours began to spread that the Emperor Nero himself was somehow behind it. Anxious for a scapegoat, Nero in turn pointed an accusing finger at the Christians, who had been a small but increasing presence in Rome for a generation.

In a savage display of cruelty, believers were sentenced to be torn apart by wild animals; they were covered in pitch and burned alive as human torches to light the imperial gardens; and some were crucified. Among this last group was the apostle Peter. And there is a further tradition (although it cannot be proven historically) that claims that, as he did not consider himself worthy of being put to death in the same manner as his Lord, Peter chose to be crucified upside down.

We can be grateful here in Canada that we live in a society where we are free to worship as we choose and to live out our beliefs on a daily basis. But did you know that one in eight Christians in the world today live in countries where they may be persecuted for their faith? That is over 300 million believers!

In the twelve months between October 2019 and September 2020, it is estimated that over 4,700 Christians were killed for their faith; nearly 4,300 were unjustly arrested, detained or imprisoned; and more than 1,700 were abducted for faith-related reasons.[1]

Those are sobering statistics. But let them be an encouragement to you and to me to follow the counsel that Peter himself has left us: to honour Christ as Lord in our hearts and always to be prepared to give a reason to anyone who asks us for the hope that is in us (1 Peter 3:15).

As John concludes his gospel, he looks back over his times with Jesus and the years that have passed by since. And every bit as much as on that first resurrection morning, he remains wide-eyed with amazement. You can hear it when you listen to his concluding words: “Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.”

And isn’t it equally amazing that nearly two thousand years after the events, people are still talking about Jesus and books are still being written about him! As we close our Bibles (at least for now) may we never lose that sense of wonder and awe in the presence of Jesus, the Word become flesh, who dwelt among us—and continues to dwell among us by his Spirit today—full of grace and truth!

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[1]     Ewelina O. Ochab, “One in Eight Christians…”, Forbes Magazine, 13 January 2021

“Faithful” (Hebrews 3:1-6)

For six weeks we have been looking at the Letter to the Hebrews. If you hadn’t noticed before, you are probably aware by now that it is far from the easiest book of the New Testament to understand, with its frequent quotations from what often seem obscure passages from the Old Testament, and with its talk of angels and references to mysterious characters like Melchizedek.

On the other hand, I hope that at the same time you have begun to appreciate what an amazing piece of writing Hebrews is—and that you will realize this more and more as the weeks go on.

My own experience of Hebrews goes back some of my earliest days as a Christian, when I was an undergraduate student at university. A friend and I thought we’d like to get together to study the Bible. For some reason we landed in the Letter to the Hebrews. As the weeks went on, we invited others to join us and they in turn invited others, so that by the end of the term there were more than thirty participants in the group!

While we found it challenging and at some points even mystifying, we also found that we were being profoundly enriched, with its repeated calls to focus on Jesus, the incomparable Christ. Indeed, a year later that became the theme of a campus-wide mission: “Focus on Jesus Christ”.

The Letter to the Hebrews is unique among the books of the New Testament on a number of accounts. For one thing, nowhere does it tell us who its author was. Added to that, many scholars aren’t sure that it was intended as a letter at all, but think that it may have begun its life as a sermon. Whatever the case, it is clear that its author was a highly gifted teacher, a deeply caring pastor and a brilliant interpreter of the Old Testament. Most importantly, whoever he or she was, this writer was passionate about Jesus.

Unfortunately, that seems to have been less and less the case with some of the men and women to whom this letter was addressed. We cannot know for sure, but evidence suggests that Hebrews was written somewhere in the early 60s. And the likelihood is that the recipients were in the main Jewish converts to Christ living in Rome.

At that time Rome had a population of about a million people, of whom around fifty thousand were Jews. It is not unlikely that the good news about Jesus had first come to Rome with some of those who had been visiting Jerusalem on the feast of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came upon Jesus’ disciples in the upper room. They were among those who had been cut to the heart by Peter’s proclamation of Jesus as Lord and Messiah. They had heard the challenge to repent. They had responded by being among the three thousand who were baptized. And they had brought the good news of God’s love in Jesus back with them to Rome.

However, the years between Pentecost and Hebrews had not been easy ones for the Christians in Rome. In AD 49 the emperor Claudius had expelled all Jews from Rome—and that undoubtedly would have included a number of those who had turned to Christ. Over the years that followed, many of them were able to return. But hostility towards Christians from both Gentiles and Jews was only growing. It would reach a climax under the emperor Nero in the year 64, following the great fire of Rome.

With all this in mind, it isn’t difficult to understand how many of the believers in Rome were suffering from discouragement. Some, I suspect, had reached a state of exhaustion. Others were tempted to go back to their Jewish roots. And a few were at the point of abandoning the faith altogether, if they hadn’t done so already.

This, then, is the audience to whom the Letter to the Hebrews was directed. And I’m wondering, does any of it sound familiar to you? Two years of covid have kept many believers isolated from the fellowship of the church. And even when we are able to come together, what we are permitted to do is for the most part a pale shadow of the worship and community life that we formerly enjoyed.

Besides that, we live in a milieu that is increasingly hostile to many of the truths we hold dear. Christian faith has become marginalized, if not demonized, in many of the mass media. Added to that, “cancel culture” makes it dangerous to say or write anything that conflicts with today’s social norms—norms that are becoming more and more inimical to Christian values.

The result is that we end up with Christian believers who suffer from what we might call faith fatigue—rather are like someone who is adrift in a rowboat in the middle of a storm. Row as hard as they will, the rain continues to lash down, the wind continues to whip around them, and the waves threaten to overturn their little craft at any moment. Does that match up with anyone you know? Perhaps it even describes where you’re at right now.

Our Privilege: Brothers and sisters in a heavenly calling

If that’s the case, take heart. Because that was exactly the kind of people the author of the Letter to the Hebrews was writing to. And what does he say to them?

He begins by reminding them who they are. Look at how he addresses them in the opening verse of our passage this morning: “holy brothers and sisters”, “you who share in a heavenly calling”.

First of all, he calls them “holy”. Now that isn’t a word that many of us are accustomed to using of ourselves. We may think of “holy” people as those we consider model Christians, women or men who demonstrate all those beautiful fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience and all the rest. But that’s not what the New Testament writers mean when they use the word “holy”. We are holy not because of anything we have done, but because our heavenly Father has claimed us for himself, because Jesus Christ has died for us on the cross, because the Holy Spirit dwells within us. You don’t have to think about it for more than a moment to realize what an immense privilege that is.

Secondly, he calls them “brothers and sisters”. If the word “holy” speaks to us of our vertical relationship with God, then “brothers and sisters” speaks of the horizontal relationship that we have with all who belong to Christ. That is, we have the remarkable privilege of being knit together with people of every language, race, status, nationality and whatever other category you care to mention—all those factors that are too often used to divide people and set them apart from one another.

I’m not a huge traveller, but I have worshipped with other believers in Australia, France, Libya, India and Haiti (not to mention most of the provinces of Canada). In every case I have found myself welcomed by people who recognized and claimed me as a brother in Christ. One of the qualities that draw me to First Congregational is the wide diversity of backgrounds and nationalities that this church embraces.

We are brothers and sisters. And if that weren’t enough, the author goes on to tell us that we share in a heavenly calling. We look forward to the day when, with all of God’s people from every language, tribe, century and nation we will be gathered around the throne of the Lamb.

What a privilege this is! It is one that sets all the worries and contradictions, all the tensions and disappointments, all the pains and setbacks that life in this world puts across our path, into a totally different context. Surely these are words of encouragement if you are one of those who find yourself lonely or discouraged in your Christian walk.

Our Pattern: Take a good look at Jesus

If that is our privilege, the author of Hebrews next calls us to look at the pattern that God gives us on which to model our lives—and I don’t have to tell you that that pattern is Jesus! “Consider Jesus…,” he tells us. The word that he uses for “consider” means to ponder, to study, to observe thoroughly, to take careful notice, to contemplate, to fix your eyes on, to rivet your attention on something. The Message Bible translates it, “Take a good hard look at Jesus.”

What do we see when we do that? We see one who was faithful. And here the author does what he often does. He compares Jesus with a figure from the Old Testament. This time it is with Moses.

Everyone would have known about the faithfulness of Moses. In the face of threats from Pharaoh, in the face of the Red Sea, in the face of the Egyptian charioteers, and in the face of the rebelliousness of his own people, Moses remained faithful to God. For forty long years he faithfully led the people of Israel across the wilderness towards the land that God had promised them.

Moses was faithful as a servant, the author tells us. But Jesus was faithful as a son. Moses’ faithfulness led him to give up his privilege as a member of Pharaoh’s household. Jesus’ faithfulness led him to surrender all his heavenly glory to become as one of us. Moses’ faithfulness caused him to plead to God on behalf of his wayward people. Jesus’ faithfulness took him to the cross, to suffer and to die for the sins of the whole world—for your sins and mine. Moses’ faithfulness brought him to the edge of the Promised Land. Jesus’ faithfulness exalted him to the Father’s right hand, there to reign eternally in all his heavenly splendour. So it is that we fix our eyes firmly on Jesus.

Many of you will be familiar with the account in Matthew’s gospel of when the disciples were caught in a storm on the Sea of Galilee. They were far from shore and the wind was driving them farther, while the waves splashed over the gunwales. As things were getting completely out of control, they looked and there was Jesus! “Lord, if it really is you,” Peter shouted, “command me to come to you on the water.” “Come,” Jesus said. And at that Peter stepped out of the boat and began to walk towards Jesus. But when he looked at the wind whirling about him, he started to sink. “Lord, save me,” he gasped. At which Jesus reached out his hand and took hold of him (Matthew 14:28-33).

Peter’s experience is a useful model for us when we find ourselves overwhelmed by the circumstances that life sometimes throws at us: to look to Jesus, whose very last words to his disciples were these: “I am with you always, to the end of the age” (Matthew 28:20).

Our Priority: Hold fast

We share in the incalculable privilege of being sisters and brothers in a heavenly calling. We have a pattern in Jesus, who faithfully went to the cross for us and promises to be with us to the end of time. And that leads us to a priority, which we find in the final verse of this morning’s passage: to hold fast.

A couple of years ago Karen and I were in Australia at an extended family gathering on a lake. One of the people there had brought a high-powered speed boat, from which he towed a large inflatable raft. Of course, this was a source of great fun for the many children and teenagers who had come. But that wasn’t enough for some of them, who began to dare me to go out for a spin.

I can’t say I was keen on the idea, but eventually their cajoling got to me and I agreed to go out for a spin. We hadn’t been out for more than a few moments, when I could see a devilish expression cross the face of our driver as he glanced back at us. Suddenly he revved the engine to full speed and took us back and forth, bouncing recklessly across the wake of the boat. A couple of the young people who weren’t holding on very tightly were tossed into the water. But I held on for dear life as we were buffeted by wave after wave, and managed to survive until we reached the shore. I even went out for a second run!

Well, I can’t say it’s going to be fun. Indeed, it very often isn’t, and the stakes can be high. For some of those early Christians their faithfulness cost them their lives. And it hasn’t stopped. Are you aware that there were more Christians martyred in the twentieth century than in all previous centuries combined? That every day thirteen Christians die for their faith and another dozen are unjustly arrested or imprisoned?[1]

We can be grateful to God that, while keeping the faith can be a challenge, while it can even lead to losing friends or losing a job, we do not have to suffer as many of our fellow believers have. But with them, the Letter to the Hebrews calls upon us to hold fast, to keep a firm grip, not to allow anything to cause us to let go.

As we move on through Hebrews, the author will give us some practical guidance as to how we are to do that. But I don’t want to steal from future sermons in the weeks ahead! So, I will leave it there, with the encouragement to keep your eyes trained on Jesus, to hold fast and not to let go, even if sometimes we feel we are just barely hanging on by our fingernails. And with the reminder that we have a God who promises, “I will never leave you nor forsake you” (Hebrews 13:5).

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[1]     https://www.christianitytoday.com/news/2021/january/christian-persecution-2021-countries-open-doors-watch-list.html