May 1, 2022: The Rod and the Crook

John 21:1-19

Rev. Rhonda Blevins

After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. But the other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.

When they had gone ashore, they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them; and though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish. This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

We’re acquainted with boats here in Clearwater. We see so many boats every day, it’s not a novelty like it might be for people in other places. I know some of you have boats. I enjoy checking out what people name their boats:

·         Cool names like: “Salty Dog” or “Heart of the Dragon”;

·         Funny names like “Kids’ Inheritance” or the dilapidated old boat we saw on the Weeki Watchee one day named: “Cirrhosis of the River.”

·         Clever names like “Liquid Asset” or “Seaduction.

If I ever get a boat, I’ll probably name it “Visitation” so that when someone calls the church office looking for me, the office manager can say, “The pastor isn’t here; she’s out on ‘Visitation.’”

A couple of days ago I pulled up to a stoplight next to a boat called “Goin’ Catchin’.” It made me think about how telling people you’re going fishing is aspirational. “I’m going fishing; I don’t know if I’ll catch anything, but we’ll see!” But these folks with the “Goin’ Catchin’” boat—I can’t decide if it’s hubris or confidence. You see, I don’t know a lot about fishing, but from what I understand sometimes fishin’ doesn’t always lead to catchin’.

And that’s the situation the disciples were in where our scripture lesson picks up today. They were doing a lot of fishin’; they were not doing a lot of catchin’.

Now let’s set this story in context. We’re in the last chapter of the Gospel of John. Jesus was crucified, buried, and resurrected on the third day. By the time we get to the last chapter of the Gospel of John, the risen Christ has already appeared to Mary in the garden, as well as twice to the disciples as they gathered behind locked doors. These three resurrection appearances all happened in or around Jerusalem.

Sometime later (John doesn’t tell us how much later), the disciples are back up north in Galilee. Galilee was where they had first been called as disciples and where they had spent most of their time with Jesus during his ministry. After all that happened in Jerusalem—Jesus’ death, burial, and resurrection—the disciples just went home. Not only did they go home, but they appear to have returned to their previous vocation. We know, for instance, that Peter and James and John (the sons of Zebedee) were fishermen—in fact they were fishing when Jesus called them as disciples.

So after everything that happened in Jerusalem—witnessing first hand Jesus’ death, burial and resurrection—you might think that these guys are out preaching the gospel and telling the world what they had seen and heard, right? Think again.

They went home. When we find them in this closing chapter in the Gospel of John, it’s like they made a pact with one another: “What happened in Jerusalem stays in Jerusalem.” Back to life. Back to reality. “Let’s leave Jerusalem (and maybe even Jesus) in the rear-view mirror.”

And with that, Peter looked at his friends and said (I imagine with a resigned tone): “I’m going fishin’.” The others decided to join him.

If I were to give these guys a boat name, it would be “Rudderless.” It’s like they had no purpose, no direction, no clear sense of call.

I think that describes a lot of Christians today: little purpose, little direction, without a clear sense of call. Without a clear sense of call, many people end up merely chasing entertainment or money as their raison d’être.

For Peter, James and John (and perhaps others of the disciples) fishing wasn’t just a hobby—it had been their livelihood. Peter told the other guys “I’m going fishin.’” We might read into the text: “Since I don’t know what to do without Jesus here, I’m might as well try to make a buck or two.” Nothing wrong with that! Everybody has to eat.

But there is more to life than chasing money.

When Jesus first called Peter and the other fishermen as disciples, he told them: “Come, follow me,” Jesus said, “and I will send you out to fish for people.” (Matthew 4:19 & Mark 1:17) My interpretation: “I will give you meaning and purpose beyond the rat race (or in this case ‘fish race’.”

The term “rat race” comes from scientific experiments pitting two rats against each other in a maze in a race to get to a piece of cheese. The rats often exert more energy than the cheese is worth. It’s a futile pursuit—an endless, maddening competition. The rat race.

When we focus our energies on chasing money we willingly place ourselves in the maze—we choose to be in the endless, futile, maddening competition. Here’s why:

No one feels wealthy enough. There’s always someone richer. That’s why you might have noticed that even Elon Musk, the richest person in the world, apparently wants more. Money isn’t enough. He wants to control the public square via Twitter for the low, low price of (checks notes) $44 billion dollars. Everyone wants more. No one feels wealthy enough.

There’s more to this life than chasing money.

But Peter’s got nothing better to do (or so he seems to think). Jesus isn’t around anymore. Might as well go fishin’. Nothing wrong with that. Kill some time. Make a few bucks. Enjoy some fish-n-chips for dinner.

So Peter et al go fishing. All night long they were doing a whole lot of fishin’ but absolutely zero catchin’. Nothing all night. Just after daybreak a fellow on the shore told them to cast their nets on the other side of the boat. They did as the stranger suggested and voila! 153 fish! That’s a lot of grouper cheeks! Only after they pulled this greatest catch aboard did they recognize the man on the shore as the Lord. Peter put on some clothes (I guess naked fishing was a thing?) Peter jumped into the water to get to the risen Lord.

Standing around the charcoal fire (reminiscent of the fire Peter warmed himself over when he denied Jesus three times), Jesus asked Peter three times, “Do you love me?” Three times Peter answered, “Yes, Lord, I love you.” Three times, following Peter’s confession of love, Jesus gave him job to do: “feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep.”

While there was nothing inherently wrong with Peter fishing (in fact the risen Christ blessed the endeavor 153-fold!) fishing was not Peter’s highest calling. Christ had something more important for Peter to do than his job as a fisherman.

Hear me say this: it’s not either/or. Jesus never told Peter to put down his fishing rod. But Jesus did tell him to take up a shepherd’s crook.

This calling that Christ gave to Peter, this is our calling as well.

It seems to me that in our young adult years, we work hard to find our place in the world. Most of us must find a job or a career—we have to “catch some fish” if you will, so that we can eat. So we become business people, homemakers, lawyers, engineers, teachers, doctors, nurses, soldiers, managers, or social workers. We take jobs. We build careers. Maybe we find meaning in our work, maybe we don’t. But the focus during this phase of life is often our paycheck or our resume.

I recently met a doctor who had been quite successful in his work. And if there’s any job that seems like a great combination of money and meaning, the medical profession is it (in my mind). But this new friend had grown increasingly frustrated with the profession. Driven by profit, he explained, he was being forced to spend less and less time with his patients. More patients=more money. This trend persisted, at least where he was working, so much that he felt like a rat in a maze. Less and less time with patients. More and more profit for the CEO. Eventually he was so demoralized that he quit. Left the medical field. He’s currently trying to figure out what’s next for him now that he’s no longer a contestant in the “rat race.” With a stethoscope in one hand, I wonder if it’s time for him to take up a shepherd’s crook with his other hand.

For the young adults in the room, you may be trying to figure out what to carry in your first hand: a fishing rod perhaps, or a stethoscope. For me it was a Bible as I chose the ministry as my profession. My husband chose the American Flag; he went into the Air Force after high school.

For those of you roughly thirty and older, I invite you to consider what might symbolize your job or career—a cook might choose a frying pan, a construction worker might choose a hardhat, an accountant might choose a calculator. You get the idea. Choose your symbol, and imagine holding it in your dominant hand. That symbol represents a job or career. It means you’ve got a skillset now. You can pay the bills. You can make a living.

Now the invitation is to make a life.

The ancient Greek philosopher Archimedes once said: “Give me a lever and a place to stand and I will move the earth.”

Your early career is your “place to stand” in this world. The second half of life is taking up the “lever.” Let me offer an example.

I mentioned that my husband enlisted in the Air Force after high school. It was a job for him. He liked his time in the Air Force, but not enough to make a career out of it. And when he got out of the Air Force he took different jobs, from truck driving to mortgage broker to sales of various kinds. Jobs. All of them.

Roughly two years ago he took a job helping homeless veterans. One of the job requirements was to be a veteran. So he picked that American Flag back up with one hand, and for the first time in his vocational journey, he took up a shepherd’s crook in the other. He’s tending God’s sheep by housing homeless veterans. I couldn’t be prouder!

“Tend my sheep” said Christ to Peter. You don’t have to put down your rod but it is time to take up the crook alongside it. Tend God’s sheep. Feed God’s lambs.

Christ says the same thing to each of us. You don’t have to put down your stethoscope or your frying pan or your hardhat or your calculator or your flag—but take up the shepherd’s crook with your other hand. “Tend my sheep. Feed my lambs.” Care for God’s people in ways both large and small. In your family. In your church. In your neighborhood. In your community. This is how we make a life. This is our calling.

Stop chasing money, and chase meaning instead. Your lever will be your legacy. With a lever and a place to stand, you will move the earth.