Imitation of Christ John 21:1-19

The streets of Old Jerusalem are narrow and most are lined with shops of all kinds
There are vendors of jewelry right next to bakeries,
purveyors of T-shirts alongside sellers of exotic spices.
I prided myself on being immune to the shop keeper’s pitch
UNTIL I passed a shop with big stacks of leather sandals
and a sign that said, "Jesus Sandals."
Since there were some nice ones right out in front that looked big enough
to float down the Mississippi,
I imagined they might even have a pair in back that would fit me.
I thought it might be a good investment for children’s moments or Vacation Bible School.
I could see myself walking into a Sunday school class, bathrobe cinched,
staff in hand, and all the six-year-olds marveling
at the authenticity of my Jesus sandals.
But, in the end, I passed.

Part of the allure, of course, of being able to tour Israel
is the opportunity to walk where Jesus walked,
to see the hills that he saw,
to float on the same Sea of Galilee on which he floated.
In fact, the boat we rode across the Sea of Galilee was billed as a "Jesus Boat"
and purported to be a replica of the kind of ship Jesus might have sailed
on one of his several trips across the water.
At each stop along the way, especially around the Sea of Galilee,
I would usually follow a little ritual - I would find a place to sit, squint my eyes
and imagine the scenery around me as it might have looked to Jesus.

This was especially true at a place on the North East shore
where there’s a little chapel called "The Church of the Primacy of St. Peter."
This chapel is built in the location identified by ancient tradition
as the spot where the Risen Lord met Peter and the others for breakfast.
Actually, it’s built across a rock outcropping that serves as an altar inside the church
and, outside the church, has been worn smooth by countless pilgrims
who have touched and rubbed it.

I found that if I crouched, keeping the church just out of the field of vision on my left side
and then looked out across the water toward the distant shore
I could imagine the whole scenario without interference.
I could imagine the seven disciples including Peter
casting out and dragging in their nets all night long catching nothing.

I could imagine that at daybreak anyone standing on shore would be backlit
by the glowing Eastern sky
rendering it impossible to make out anything but a silhouette of that person.
The figure on shore calls out the standard greeting, "Catch anything?"
which the frustrated disciples answer, "No...not a thing."
So the dark figure suggests, "Why don’t you try the other side?"

Now, before I saw the Sea of Galilee I had always taken at face value
that Jesus’ suggestion to fish on the right side followed by a huge haul of fish
was nothing less than another of Jesus divine miracles.
Commentators, in fact, often refer to it as the "miraculous catch of fish."
And it’s because of this miracle, they say,
that Peter recognizes the stranger as Jesus.
But after seeing the Sea of Galilee, I understand this scene differently.
We were told by the skipper of the Jesus Boat
that the Sea of Galilee has some of the finest fishing
of anywhere in the world. It’s loaded with fish.
It’s not unusual to see a flock of gulls hovering just above a spot in the water
feeding on a large school of fish swimming by.

I wonder if the large catch of one hundred fifty-three fish
wasn’t so much a miracle as it was the result of a change in approach.
The disciples had been fishing all night, we’re told.
casting out, and drawing in, casting out, and drawing in.
Had they only been fishing from the left side of the boat all night?
It’s possible. I’ve done it. You’ve done it.
You set out to accomplish a task - catch some fish, fix the computer,
get your husband to change an annoying habit.
You tackle the problem the best you know how and at first you have no success.
So, what do you do? Do you change your approach? Come at it a different way?
No, you try again using the same tactics, only this time you try a little harder.
When it still doesn’t work do you blame your solution?
No, of course not! You blame the problem!
The reason you don’t get the results you want is not because your methods have failed, It’s because the fish or the computer or your husband isn’t cooperating!

Alcoholics Anonymous has a saying that the definition of insanity
is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.
I wonder if maybe the disciples weren’t acting a little insane during their night of fishing.
After all, they had a right.
Think of the whirlwind of emotions they’d been through in the previous month -
the triumphal entry into Jerusalem,
Jesus’ arrest, conviction, crucifixion, entombment.
Then, on Easter morning an empty tomb,
and then, even more amazing, the Risen Jesus standing there among them.

They’d gone to Galilee because that’s where Jesus said he’d meet them,
but I’m guessing they went fishing to clear their heads,
to find some comfort amid all the craziness in something familiar and routine,
maybe earn a little money, after all, a man’s gotta eat!
So set out in the evening when the fishing should be best
and, choosing to begin on the left, they cast out and draw in - but there’s no fish.
Again, they cast out, draw In - but no fish.
AGAIN, CAST OUT, DRAW IN - NO FISH!
AGAIN, CAST OUT, DRAW IN - NO FISH!!
AGAIN, CAST OUT, DRAW IN - NO FISH!!!
On and on, through the night - aching, tired, dripping with sweat
until interrupted in their insanity by a lone figure on the beach.
"Hey, Catch anything?"
"Who is that? Can you see who that is?" "No, not a thing."
"Why don’t you cast to the RIGHT side of the boat. There’s a school right there.
Don’t you see the gulls?"

No, they didn’t see the gulls. All of their attention was focused on the LEFT side.
They do as he says, they change to the right side,
and, whaddyaknow, they catch some fish.
It’s Peter who finally puts it together - the familiar voice, the recognizable posture,
the intimate knowledge of local fishing..."It is the Lord!"

What follows is a very poignant scene of gentle confrontation
as Jesus recommissions Peter as a disciple.
Most everyone who reflects on this encounter sees the awkward
three-fold repetition of Jesus’ question "Do you love me"
as an opportunity for redemption;
one chance for Peter to declare his love for each time he denied Jesus.

And Jesus makes it clear that while the hostile environment still persists
it will continue to be dangerous for Peter to be his disciple,
that, in fact, Peter will likely face his own form of crucifixion because of it.
But, in the end it comes down to Jesus offering Peter the same simple invitation
he had offered three years before, "Follow me."

There is no question in my mind that as we read this story,
our Risen Lord is offering us the same invitation to follow.
But it occurs to me that growing up as a Christian in the South
has predisposed me to a type of insanity when it comes to my attempts
to follow Jesus.
I don’t mean to suggest here that Southerners are any more warped than anyone else, we just have our own particular form of insanity.

When I was seventeen I was spending the summer after my senior year in high school
as a Boy Scout camp counselor.
I was a waterfront instructor and it was my job before camp opened
to clean up a twenty foot sailboat the camp owned.
In the tiny cabin of that boat I found a waterlogged copy of a spiritual classic,
The Imitation of Christ by Thomas a’ Kempis, a German monk of the 15th century.
It really was too waterlogged to read, but still I took it as a sign
that what I really needed was to get serious about being a disciple.

Like the title said, I needed to imitate Jesus,
and, as a Southern boy growing up in the Bible belt I knew what that meant -
It meant that I needed to read my Bible more
and I should try to think about girls less.
It meant I should quit telling dirty jokes
and I should try to get others around me to do the same.
For three weeks or so, I’m sure I was insufferable
until my resolve wavered and I relaxed back into my sinful self.
I felt guilty, but I’m sure my fellow counselors were grateful.

Even though I went to seminary
and my ability to think theologically has become more sophisticated
I still, on some level, practice a type of insanity when it comes trying to follow Jesus.
I still have in my head that being a disciple means trying harder to be better,
that it means adopting a certain vocabulary or style,
that, in essence, it means putting on Jesus' Sandals and cinching up my bathrobe.
It’s insanity because for nearly fifty years now I’ve tried to do that and I’ve failed.
I keep fishing on the left side of the boat thinking THIS time it’ll take,
THIS time I’ll be able to settle into a way of thinking and being
that will fit what I’ve grown up with as a child of the Bible belt.

I keep imagining that I’ll be able to travel comfortably in religious circles
and not feel like an imposter,
that certain words or phrases will come easily to my lips
and certain dark thoughts will magically evaporate.
But there’s someone on the shore who keeps calling to me, "Try the OTHER side!"
And there’s Jesus talking to Peter saying - what? -
Read the Bible more? Watch your language?
No, he’s saying "Feed my lambs, tend my sheep."

I think what Jesus is saying here is "Be my apprentice. Learn from me."
And what is it that Jesus is good at? What does he have to teach?
He’s good at one thing - living in God’s kingdom
and doing what he can to help others live in God’s kingdom.
What does that mean?
Just this.
As we read the gospel accounts and see how Jesus lived his life,
we find that
1. in the kingdom of God all creation is God’s gift
and worthy of respect and protection.
2. All people are God’s children and worthy of being viewed first and foremost
in that light, no matter what secondary characteristics may define them.
3. In the kingdom of God no one is an isolated individual, but part of God’s family, and
4. In God’s kingdom the weaker members of the family are due more attention and help.

When he calls us to follow, Jesus isn’t asking us to become the moral police,
He’s not asking us to wish each other a "Blessed day."
He’s asking us to be his student, to learn from our mistakes,
to grow in grace as one sinner among others.
He’s asking us to take up the challenge to be signs of hope to those who have lost hope,
to take a risk for love’s sake.
STOP THE INSANITY!
Try something different.
There’s no need to buy new sandals. The shoes you have are just fine.