When Jesus called, the disciples left their nets and followed him.
If we look for pat answers in scripture we are not seeking God in both the divine and human. If we hope for a “black and white” world we are not growing. If we believe that God loves some to the exclusion of others . . . we have not yet begun our journey.
God says: There in only one commandment: Love one another as I have loved you. All the finagling and deception you believe shows me your power is like a child who struggles against the loving arms of a parent. All that I ask is that you follow; I will protect you. All that I ask is that you do my Word; Jesus will show the Way. All that I ask is that you abide in love; the Spirit abides in you . . . and I ask that you abide in me.
We spent many hours seeking answers to questions we need not ask when all we need is God alone. All of the earthly plots and schemes are useless in God’s eternity. The only tool we need is God’s Language of Love. And this we learn as we follow Jesus. This we put into action as we yield to the Spirit.
When Jesus calls, let us leave behind our nets that have been so important to us . . . and let us follow . . .
For more thoughts on discipleship, enter the word follow in the blog search bar and explore.
We have taken apart the story of the disciples and the transformation of their lives on the shore of the sea they fished so well and so long. We have witnessed their first, uncertain steps as they learn to become fishers of God’s children rather than fishers of God’s creatures in the sea. Just as these early followers return to what felt familiar and found it lacking, so too might we find our old habits and old haunts when we look for peace. The disciples teach us a valuable lesson across the millennia that Jesus is always present to us. Even when we do not recognize him. Even when we choose to ignore him. When we look for what we thought is lost, the apostles tell us, we need not look far. We need only call on God.
With this story from John, we see the gentle way in which Jesus brings his followers back to the work of kingdom-building. When we place ourselves in their place and time, we also witness the risen Christ for he is always with us quietly to materialize just when we are most in need. He allows us to make our own decisions; yet he willingly suggests where we might best cast our nets. He sustains us when we are hungry and frightened, he carries us when we are beaten and spent, he loves us willingly, always and without restraint.
Like these humble apostles who find their hopes dashed and their faith shaken, we too might return to our former, familiar ways only to find them less comfortable and less successful than we remembered.
Like these weary apostles who are frightened and disoriented by their incomprehensible Easter experience, we too might be slow to recognize Jesus when he steps quietly into our lives.
Like these flawed but loving apostles who are tossed by the social, political and religious pressures that surround them, we too will see Christ in the most casual of places and find him at the most dire of times.
Jesus calls, Jesus suggests, Jesus invites, Jesus feeds, Jesus shares. Jesus asks us to follow, always leaving the choice open to us. Jesus asks us to listen, always leaving us the option to turn away. Jesus asks us to share, always leaving us the opportunity to accept or reject his offer.
And so we pray.
Good and constant Lord, we have witnessed the Easter story and still we have our doubts. Pull us back to you and hold us closely.
Good and patient Lord, we have seen the empty tomb and still we worry. Hold us in your arms to keep us from falling away.
Good and loving Lord, we have eaten with you in an old, familiar place in a new, transforming way. Keep us ever with you and never let us forget our encounter with you by the Sea of Tiberias.
“Peace be with you,” Jesus said to them. “As the Father has sent me, so I send you.
When life presents us with circumstances that confuse our senses, how do we bring reality into focus? What fears do we bow to? How do we unravel ourselves from our emotions?
When family or friends hurt or disappoint us, how do we recover? How do we avoid seeking revenge? What do we do to manage our desire to control others?
When we suffer a loss that is too great to handle, how do we move forward? What do we hide? What do we reveal?
Fearful and confused, the disciples have gathered in the upper room where they shared that last meal with Jesus. We can only imagine their bewilderment when Jesus appears among them. They quiz one another about who did or did not lock the door. They quiz Jesus about how he comes to be with them. Their mourning has turned into rejoicing.
They are startled by the Teacher’s actions and words. Here he is – somehow whole and back with them yet bearing the crucifixion wounds – and he is behaving as if this were their normal Passover journey to Jerusalem. And now he tells them that he expects them to go out into the world – the world that has just put him to death – and teach others as he has taught them. Even more surprisingly, he tells them that whose sins they forgive are forgiven and whose sins they retain are retained. They are beyond confused. They are stunned.
There is no other experience in their varied lives that has prepared them for what stands before them. How, they ask themselves, could they have been so blind to Jesus’ real mission? How had the Teacher been so patient with them? Why does he value them so much? Can it be that he truly loves them this deeply and this well?
We are often blind-sided by circumstances. What have we learned from these experiences? Have we really noticed that it is Jesus who breathes life into our wounded lives with his own, powerful breath? Have we taken his gentle urging seriously that we go into the world to do as he has done? Do we fully and enthusiastically believe that Christ’s peace will be with us as we unlock the door behind which we have buried ourselves to go out into a world that will be both loving and hostile?
Today we reach the half-way point in the Easter Octave and if we still stand frightened and locked away rather than thankful, open, amazed and engaged in the world we have missed entirely the Easter story. We have missed the announcement of the end of fear. We have missed the liberation of our bodies, minds and souls. But – and this is the truly amazing point of the Easter story – despite the fact that we have hidden ourselves away, Jesus comes through all locked doors to retrieve us. Jesus breathes life back into our exhausted lives. Jesus will go to hell and back in order to set us free from our fears and anxieties. It is in this way that we know the breadth and depth of God’s love. Jesus sends us, just as he was sent. And Jesus goes with us always so that we have nothing to fear.
Nikolai Bodarevsky: Paul’s Trial before King AgrippaOne of the things we notice about Paul is that he is so intelligent he customizes his words for his particular audience. We see him in Greek cities where there are few Jews but where the people are open to new thoughts and new ideas. He appeals to their affinity to mythology by relating to their willingness to have a shrine to an unknown God. He tells these people that there is such a god, and his name is Jesus. He captures many in his apostolic net. When he travels to towns populated by people accustomed to reading scripture (towns more heavily populated with Jews) he bases his oratory on Hebrew Scripture. Both Paul and the Holy Spirit work mightily to bring all into the church, into Christ’s mystical body.
Last year when we read about the reaction to Paul’s speech we reflected and concluded the following: Having people believe that we are crazy is often the cost of discipleship.
We read his words today and see that he has given them a layman’s version of the Creed, this is what Paul believes, it is what we believe. And like Paul, when we speak truth and light to power, corruption and darkness . . . we can rest in the understanding that people will think we are crazy!
There are so many places in our lives when this happens. My parents would always say that you know you are doing God’s work when the establishment gets a bit uncomfortable . . . when the status quo resists change . . . not just any change . . . change that comes from the Spirit. They would emphasis, as we hear so many times in scripture, if God speaks to you . . . and you do not speak, you do not move, you will have to answer for your omission of action and voice.
This labeling of disciples as crazy numbers us among the brokenhearted, so let us pray the morning intercessions from MAGNIFICAT.
You sent your Son to bring glad tidings to the lowly: may the lowly in our midst read the Gospel in your peoples’ acts of love.
Make your Church a living sign of your love.
You sent your Son to heal the brokenhearted: may the brokenhearted of our world find relief in your peoples’ compassion.
Make your Church a living sign of your love.
You sent your Son to proclaim liberty to captives: may those imprisoned in addiction, loneliness, and despair find hope in your peoples’ active concern.
Make your Church a living sign of your love.
We are Church. We are Jesus’ Mystical Body. We are adopted sisters and brothers of the Christ. We are disciples. Let us read the words which Paul spoke to power. Let us take them in. Let us be The Word that moves into the world. Let us remember and hold close . . . the knowledge that we are the brokenhearted, but we are not alone. Amen.
A re-post from May 4, 2012.
Tomorrow we will see how Paul gives a succinct accounting of his work as a disciple to Agrippa.
![boat[1]](https://thenoontimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/07/boat1.jpg?w=300&h=196)
![sea-of-galilee-2[1]](https://thenoontimes.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/sea-of-galilee-21.jpg?w=266&h=200)
The Noontimes 