Vicar Michael Reid Trice
April 10, 2016
John 21: 1-19
The Sea of Tiberius
This past week my older sister, my twin sister, and my niece visited me, my wife Jennifer and our daughter, Brigid. They flew from Albuquerque, New Mexico. There is something special about family gatherings. Sometimes these can be difficult too, or at least complex, similar to the scenes in our gospel text today – Simon Peter, Thomas the Twin (also a twin), Nathanael, those sons of Zebedee, and “two other guys,” disciples who remain anonymous to us . . . these friends have spent years following Jesus throughout the Holy Land.
They have become a family to one another. And now, we discover them embarking upon an all-night fishing trip. They will cast and draw in nets throughout the night, talking and floating atop dark mystery.
What is that like, to cast your eye over the Sea of Tiberius, in the waning twilight hours, and then to fish all night until dawn breaks and exhaustion sets in.
These disciples had recently experienced tremendous loss. They were together because, weeks after the execution of Jesus, Jesus has been seen twice. Not from a distance, but right up close, right in full view. You can hear them from the boat out on the dark water, talking this over with one another as they waited for the nets to fill. And then, as the morning approaches and the sky relinquishes its shroud of darkness, the dawn brings with it, for the third time in as many weeks, the figure of Jesus standing on the beach. Families meet to feed and fuss over meals, and this is no different. Except this family has arrived empty-handed. Not a single fish caught.
And so, seeing they’ve brought nothing to eat, Jesus encourages these disciples to dig deep into the silky water once more. The fires are looming in the distance, on the beaches, upon which they will bake their catch, their perch that have yet to jump into the net. And, Simon Peter is so overwhelmed in seeing Jesus that he jumps in the water and starts to swim to shore. In the text today, this is meant to be somewhat comical, because the boat is already very close to the land. Peter swims all the same. The family we choose to follow into the water are the people we love.
After everyone had gone to sleep late into Friday night, my older sister, Elizabeth, asked me as we sat talking on the couch, about the topic of this homily to all of you on Sunday morning. I said: “I think it will be about the experience of being disciples on the cusp of the sea of Tiberius. It will be an allegory for the mystery of God in our lives, the mystery of family and the challenges of being disciples.” Shortly thereafter, Elizabeth went downstairs to sleep. I joined my wife Jennifer in our room upstairs. In fact everyone was downstairs, including our daughter Brigid.
I thought of the Sea when I fell asleep, and thought I heard the sound of running water far off. What does it mean to follow Jesus into that sea?
At 5:30 AM yesterday, Saturday, morning, just as the disciples were eating with Jesus on the shore of Tiberius in the early dawn, my sister Elizabeth awoke me from the hallway. “Michael, you have to come downstairs now.” I was hearing water the night before, rushing to the shore. And when I raced downstairs, there were three inches of standing water . . . everywhere, covering every inch of our basement.
My daughter, Brigid, was standing on her bed, panicked, and about to place her foot into that water, and I would be unable to stop her. She had never awoken surrounded by water. This is our expression when we feel we’re in too deep, too much water, too little family, too little refuge in the immediate moment.
All of those electrical cables, extension cords, were underneath the water. Before she could step into the water to run to me, I caught her, finding myself now sloshing through mystery myself. I quickly carried her to the stairs, happy to have my feet out of the Sea for a moment. Each of us has a Sea of Tiberius, a mystery that can feel dangerous. But we have each other, even if we don’t have any food. We long to be near to one another, to the ones we love. And you’ll find yourself in deep water sometimes all for the sake of love.
It is in the moments of uncertainty, like this, that Jesus asks Peter not once, but three times, if he loves him. Jesus is asking Peter – will you go into the deep water with me? Will you dedicate your life to it? It is perhaps a bitter irony that Peter seems annoyed by the continued questions from Jesus, given that on the day of the execution of Jesus, Peter denied he was an acquaintance of Jesus at all!. And here he is, after the resurrection, annoyed that the risen Christ won’t relent.
Why does Jesus ask Peter, like us, on so many occasions, if we love him? Because if we love then we will feed the lambs and tend the sheep, as the gospel says. Our love precedes our activity in the world. Like lambs or sheep, those we love are the ones we feed and tend in this world. Just so, Jesus also convinces the disciples, and us, to caste nets into deep waters and draws our nourishment for our lives.
I splashed into the water because I love my daughter, not because I’m a good disciple, not really. In fact, when I discovered that this water damage was caused by the careless use of not turning off a faucet, I became only not a model disciple == I wasn’t a model brother, uncle, father or husband. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but that wouldn’t be true.
I was really angry that so much danger was so near, and that so little thought – in the form of carelessness – could wreak so much damage to the people I love. I want to tell you honestly that I try to be a good father, husband, brother, uncle, and disciple. At the end of the day, no matter how much I try I’m never really . . . . in my own mind . . . quite there. It’s okay. It’s okay to not be fully there. Jesus knows that about us. It’s why he has forgiven Peter. Jesus tells his disciples to follow him. “Follow me.” He says, on the beach that early morning. I’ll keep trying to follow. I will. And here’s something else to remember. The next time, just as you are drifting off to sleep, and you think you can hear the Sea of Tiberius in the distance? Go check for running water.