In the Boat Part 1

 

Afterward, Jesus appeared again to his disciples by the Sea of Galilee. It happened this way: ² Simon Peter, Thomas, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together.  “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them, and they said, “We’ll go with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.  John 21:1-3

 

The above scene takes place at some undisclosed, undefined time after Jesus pulled a Casper the Friendly Ghost by bursting and breaking into the room where the disciples had gathered after Easter.  Even though the door was locked, Jesus was able to enter.  Wait, push pause on that detail.  Where is the door of your heart, soul, and/or life locked right now?  Maybe locked out of fear or frustration?  Maybe locked as a safety precaution, but somehow the monsters of anxiety and anger still find a way to get in?  Part of the mystery of Easter is that scars don’t define us, but the sacredness of Christ, who can find a way in, too.  Both scars and sacredness mix and mingle together.  Where and when have you felt Christ’s presence in the month since Easter?  Where and when has Christ burst and broken into your ordinary day without an appointment?  Where and when have you felt the sacred Easter-ing promise of God even in these days?

 

When Jesus enters, he isn’t disappointed or wagging his finger with blame or shame.  No.  Instead, Jesus breathes the breath of life, shows them his wounds (because Christ holds the brokenness of this world alongside the blessedness), and Jesus says, “Peace” or shalom or wholeness or alignment of your mind, heart, soul, life, actions, and way of being.  So much of my life can feel out of kilter and off the rails right now.  So much of life can feel like it is racing toward a cliff and like Wiley E. Coyote will zoom off into thin air only to hold up a “Yikes!” sign before crashing and crumbling to the canyon.  So much of life doesn’t go according to my plotting and planning; has God not seen the brilliant ideas I have?  Or maybe God has seen my idea and is rubbing God’s forehead thinking, “See what I put up with?!?” 

 

Even with all the exterior evidence of Jesus’ death and resurrection, the disciples still were not sure.  When we have questions, doubts, and are not one hundred percent certain/confident, we are in good company.  This is part of being a disciple!  I wonder if part of the reason the disciples decided to go fishing wasn’t that they were trying to escape, but to process all this mystery that made their minds, hearts, and souls feel like hamsters on a spinning wheel.  I wonder if the Sea of Galilee was a sacred place?  One of the ways we process grief is to go to ‘thin places’ where we previously spent time with our loved ones.  One of the ways we process grief is by sitting in the Memorial Garden, knowing that, in some way, God and our loved one are there.  Fishing might have been a prayer discipline, not a distraction for the disciples. 

 

Is there a ‘thin place’ where you commune with the holy?  Is there a sacred space where you feel God hovering and humming?  Can you find time in this season of Easter to go there and listen to God?  If you go, let me offer you an invitation to ponder: what does it mean to you to pay attention to God paying attention to you?  I know that is a bit of a riddle but sit with the holy wisdom.  God pays attention to you.  God’s gaze is directed at you.  God’s presence is wherever you are.  Let this sit with you as you guide your sailboat on the waters of life this week. Amen.