(Preached on Sunday, April 18, 2010)
Then the disciple Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Master!” When Simon Peter realized that it was the Master, he threw on some clothes, for he was stripped for work, and dove into the sea. - John 21:7
Easter was great. Were you here for Easter worship this year? We had a crowd. And the music was wonderful. The church looked bright and beautiful, filled with lilies in bloom and excited people. It wasn’t quite the worship described in Revelation 5, but for us, it was close. But now we are post-Easter. It is not easy to feel Easter three weeks afterwards. It is a real struggle, with all the demands of the world pressing upon us, to maintain that excitement and energy we experienced on Easter Sunday on Monday morning and then on the Sunday’s to follow.
Wouldn’t it be great if every Sunday was like Easter Sunday and like the worship described in John’s vision in Revelation 5? Wouldn’t that be fantastic to hear “myriads and myriads and thousands and thousands” of angelic voices all shouting out praise to God? (We are lucky to have 100 on a good Sunday.) Add to that EVERY creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea joining in the praise and the elders falling down in worship! (When was the last time you saw somebody fall down in our worship time?)
We may not want to repeat everything in that scene in our worship, but there is no getting around the power and the dynamic spirit that is represented in that scene. That power and that dynamic spirit is what we would want to experience. That power and that dynamic spirit is what we wish would energize our worship every Sunday. But where does it come from?
It comes from taking a risk, from laying it all on the line. That power and dynamic spirit is found as we trust that the impossible is possible, stepping out in faith, and finding it possible, because God makes it possible.
Look at our gospel story this morning. It takes place sometime after the crucifixion of Jesus. The disciples have returned to their homes in Galilee, at least seven of them. They are sitting around wondering what to do now. Finally, as if he cannot stand the idleness any longer, Peter jumps up and declares that he is going fishing. He wants to return to what he knows best. He wants to get back on the water, feel the touch of the coarsely woven nets again, sense the rocking of the boat, taste the spray of fresh water on his lips and feel it washing off his legs still covered with the dust of inland journeys with the now crucified Jesus.
Maybe his following of Jesus had been just a waking dream? Possible it had been folly to think of himself as anything but a fisherman. And what was wrong with that? Where was the failure in that? Fishing was both an honorable and necessary profession. But after a long night of back-breaking work, as familiar and secure as that may have felt, they had come up empty. The old-ways really no longer worked for them. As the weary fishermen haul in the last empty net to return to shore, a stranger calls out in the early-morning fog: “Throw the net out to starboard and you’ll catch something.” Upon following his advice they realize a huge haul of fish. Immediately one of the disciples realizes it can only mean one thing: the stranger is Jesus! He tells Peter, “It is the Master!” And Peter, filled with joy and exhilaration, dives into the water to race to shore.
What is that dive if not an act of worship? That passage ends in worship. It ends in dynamic, impetuous action, with Peter and the others filled with joy and awe, sharing communion with the risen Christ. What brought it on? They did not begin the story in worship. Far from it, at the beginning they are filled with lethargy, aimlessness, and questions. They were returning to their old lifestyles. Where was the change?
The change takes place in the story when they hear a stranger command them to action and they respond by taking the risk in listening to him. “Throw the net off the right side of the boat and see what happens.” They didn’t recognize him as Jesus. It is very strange they listen to him. After all, they are fishermen. They are the professionals. Who is this guy? What does he know? Yet, they take the risk. They follow the command. And in their obedience, they experience far greater results than they could have imagined possible. That is when they recognize the one who gave them the command. They recognize the power of God at work and realize it must be the risen Jesus. Then they respond in worship, immediate, dramatic, powerful, dynamic worship. They don’t have to think about it and plan it. It spontaneously arises from within their beings.
Does that mean we ought to all go out fishing to find that dynamic spirit of worship? No, fishing is just the vehicle for telling this story. But it is more than just a convenience. Over and over again in the Bible fishing is used as an image, a metaphor, for mission. Especially in the gospels when Jesus first calls his primary disciples he calls them from their nets and boats to come follow him and he will make them “fishers of people.” This story is an illustration that the risen Jesus still calls his disciples to follow him in mission. To respond to that call is a risk. We may not fully recognize the one who is giving us the command. It may come as through a fog. It may come in the midst of our ordinary daily work. But if we respond positively, if we take that risk, if we respond to the call to mission and follow the call as we hear it, then God will give the results. And they will be far greater and more amazing than we could ever imagine. THEN, our worship will become vital and dynamic and powerful, for we will be responding to the awesome and amazing power of God at work and present in our lives.
Shortly before his tragic death in an auto accident, Episcopal bishop Jim Kelsey commented on the change facing the church today with these words: “This is something I have found to be true without exception: that when we, any of us, focus on things in our lives that are passing away, we get scared, we get anxious, we get depressed, we lose hope; and when we focus on things that are being birthed and are coming newly into creation, we get excited, we get imaginative, we get optimistic, we feel drawn closer to one another, we feel as if we have meaning and purpose in this life, and we have joy. …we are given change as an ingredient in life. We can be frightened and anxious and resistant to it or we can embrace it as a tool to transform us.”
That certainly describes the disciples that day on Lake Galilee. Their lives had been uprooted by Jesus and he had become their entire focus. But then he was taken from them and they did not know what to do with the change. All they could do was remember how it had been with Jesus. But that left them directionless. But then Jesus came to them in a new way and gave them a new direction, a new mission, a new life. They became filled with power.
For the first 150 years of the life of the Church in America it was a missionary enterprise as this nation was being built in this new land. Then for the next 100 years the church became a vital, central, and important institution in the nation along with the government and the schools. For those years there was an expectation that people found direction and meaning in the church. All that has changed in the last 50 years and people no longer automatically look to the church for direction and meaning as they once did. The story in yesterday’s Miami Herald about Boomers spiritual searching highlights that truth. The article ended with this statement: “As boomers separate spirituality from institutions, mainline religions face challenges winning them back. The Pew report found that many left traditional faiths because they thought religious people were too judgmental or hypocritical, religious leaders too focused on power and money and their institutions too hung up on rules. ‘Organized religions are going to have to reevaluate if they want to remain relevant for this generation and future generations,’ author and attorney Greer says. ‘People are no longer willing to be told to do something and to just take it on faith. Boomers in particular are askers of questions.’”
That is the challenge and the risk facing us as followers of Jesus today. It is a call to return to life as a “missionary outpost” instead of a “settled institution.” That is a call to focus on others rather than ourselves, to direct our energies and resources outward rather than inward; to share what we have received, beginning with the compassion and love of God, but then move beyond that to include all our resources, our talents and gifts and skills and finances, rather than hoard it all to our benefit and to enhancing our lives. This approach provides meaning and sustenance to the soul, returning many times the investment made, resulting in benefits and hauls of fish, far beyond what we could even imagine, as God blesses our faithfulness, obedience and efforts as only God can. What we are talking about is a spiritual orientation rather than an institutional orientation. Maintenance is important, but more important is a passion for making disciples and transforming people’s lives for Christ rather than the mechanics of maintaining an institution. This is the mission we are called to risk. It may feel like a dive into an open sea. But it is a plunge which refreshes and which will lead to the power of God being released into our lives once again.