Easter Is Not Over
Easter 3C
Acts 9:1-20; John 21:1-19
4/18/10
Lorraine Ljunggren

        Join me in a glimpse into a past of possibility. The sun has yet to break the horizon, so the air still holds the coolness of the night. The water is relatively calm given the east wind which had blown the evening before. The water is quickly losing the shimmer cast by the light of a waning moon and the sky is so clear the stars seem within easy reach. The faint glow which heralds the approaching dawn rims the eastern sky. There is an unusual quietness by the Sea of Tiberias on this particular morning.

        The young woman breathes in great draughts of the cool breeze as she walks along the shore from her village. Her stride is graceful and purposeful. From time-to-time she stops and looks straight up at the heavens thinking how futile to try to count the stars! She is so distracted by gazing up that she is startled when she suddenly comes upon a man building a fire on the shore. She had not noticed him until she is within three or four strides of
where he kneels, arranging charcoal in the sand.

        She stops and stands speechless. The man straightens up and looks at her with a smile. The smile is somewhat disarming, but invites trust. He says, “I hope I didn't frighten you too much.”

        She answers, “Well, no….actually you did startle me. You see, I was looking at the stars and…just didn't notice you in the changing light. I'm sorry if I startled you,” she stammers and smiles in return in spite of the fact it is not the custom of her time for young women to speak with strange men.

        He looks down at the pile of charcoal at his feet. “I didn't expect anyone to be out this early, or I would have moved about or made some noise so you would have noticed me. Some friends of mine are out on the lake fishing. Though I must admit they don't know yet that I'm here on the shore. But they will discover that
soon enough.”

        She squints in the changing light and notices the boat some way offshore and just nods in the affirmative.

        The man kneels again to tend the new fire. The young woman tilts her head and studies his face. It is a strong masculine face yet with an unmistakable gentleness which seems to reflect something almost feminine. His hands are clearly those of a man who worked throughout his life, but he moves with a quiet grace. He arranges the coals as a mother would arrange the blankets around a baby. His shoulders are broad and lean, yet there is no roughness in the way he carries himself. When he speaks, there is authority in his voice, but there is a tenderness which would calm the most frightened child. This man seems serene and unhurried.

        He stands up. The fire is glowing red now, matching the streaks of sunlight spreading across the clear morning sky. In the changing light she can now see there are some fish in a pile on a rock nearby and some loaves of bread.

        There are many questions she would like to ask the strange young man, but the sun is breaking full on the horizon and she knows she must be going. At the same time the man and the young woman look to see the fishing boat approaching nearer the shore. Several men in the boat are talking and the sounds of their voices carry across the water in the morning stillness.

        The young woman looks at the man's profile. A change in his face tells her he indeed recognizes his friends – a smile hovers at the corners of his mouth as he gazes towards the boat. She looks again at the approaching boat, then turns and silently begins to retrace her steps along the shoreline.

        She only looks back once when she hears a commotion which follows the man on the shore shouting something to his friends and their excitement at trying to manage a net heavy with fish followed by a shout of recognition by someone in the boat.

        The young woman in the story appears on the surface to be a fictional character. But she is meant to represent each of us. Some of us here have at sometime and in some way met or encountered Jesus the Christ. We may not be able to describe how he moves his hands or how his voice sounds, but we have our own concept of this risen Christ – or we wonder what it would be like to be able to meet the Christ of God face-to-face, to have a real live conversation, to ask the gazillion questions which arise in anyone's journey of faith.

        The young woman in the story meets the resurrected Jesus. Though she never asks his name, we can tell she senses there is about him something special. There is something very special in John's Gospel account of the meeting by the Sea of Tiberias. It is a many-faceted narrative. It is a story of incarnation, of resurrection, and of the continued new life that comes on Easter Day. It is an account of Jesus' reassurance to the disciples that they have not been abandoned and that their original calls to ministry await their recommitment. To the disciples who have been fishing all night Jesus is as real as the fish which fill their net.

        This narrative reminds the early Johannine community and reminds us that Easter is not confined to a single day. The resurrected Christ has not left us never to be encountered again. The fishing expedition and seaside meal is but one way to show the disciples that Jesus is with them wherever they might be. This story is one way to show us that Jesus is with us wherever we might be.

        In a world seemingly gone mad with hate-filled rhetoric and menacing violence, especially here in our own country right now, we are in need of a true Savior to give us courage and to uphold our hope. We are in need of One Who Shows Us that the danger of militarism and of political name-calling threatens the stability of true freedom. We need One Who Calls us to non-violence as the way of faith – as the true way of God. We need One Who Reminds Us to care about the true cost to one and all of poverty and hunger, of disease and environmental degradation. We need One Who Shows Us that each human being – of whatever color or ethnic origin, of whatever biological sex or sexual orientation, of whatever age or religious custom – that each human being is created in God's image and worthy of respect – a respect we need to hold so deeply that violence against any sister or brother human being becomes impossible and to have anyone be in want is unacceptable.

        John's Gospel is filled with parallels meant to help us believe that the Word made flesh comes among us for a reason. The Gospel tells us we are all intended from the beginning to be children of God but that as we grow in years we lose our way, so need to be reminded that when we trust the Holy One as children do we will find life. Like the disciples, we often do not recognize the Risen Christ at work within or among us whether by worldly distractions or an unwillingness to open our eyes. We forget that the abundance of creation, like a few loaves and fish, can truly be so managed that all are fed and satisfied. Even if we, like Peter, deny we know Jesus, Jesus never denies knowing and loving us. Even if we think we are not up to or worthy of being a disciple, we are, in fact, called to be just that – we are to feed God's people in body, mind, and spirit. Discipleship is about love of God, love for our selves, and love for our neighbors.

        We in the church claim that every Sunday is a celebration of Easter. But we know what often happens to us Monday through Saturday. We encounter the same fear, the same doubt, and the same insecurity which overwhelmed us on Good Friday. The church believes that we meet Christ in Baptism and whenever we share Eucharist. But we also meet Christ in our daily lives through encounters with others. We meet Christ when we visit the sick or those who are dying. We meet Christ when we struggle and wrestle with our own questions or when we minister with others whose questions are unanswered. We meet Christ whenever we stand up for justice and human rights amid those who stir up hatred and bigotry – may God forgive them. We meet Christ when we sit in solitude. We meet Christ even when our own prayers seem barren and dried-up. The Spirit of the Risen Christ is with us at all times and in all places.

        The Jesus of the Gospel stories is still alive – alive to meet us, to call us over and over again to a discipleship of love and service! Every day is a day in which the Easter event, in all its inexplicable mystery, can sustain us if we are open to the possibility. Coming to believe that or wanting to believe that is a way to find security the world cannot give us. My friends, Easter is not confined to a single day. Easter will never be over. Amen.

©2010 Lorraine Ljunggren