EASTER 3C - Acts 9:1-19a; Psalm 33:1-11; Revelation 5:6-14; John 21:1-14 - 22 April 2007 - A sermon preached by The Rev. Peter A. Munson for St. Ambrose Episcopal Church, Boulder, Colorado

 

The Known and the Unknown

 

GETTING AWAY

 

Sometimes we just need to get away for a while.

 

Peter and the other disciples had seen the risen Lord a couple of times by now. But in these resurrection appearances, Jesus didn’t have a habit of sticking around very long. It wasn’t like it used to be. Perhaps he was preparing them for the fact that he would not be with them much longer. Peter was a little confused. He needed some time to think about things. He needed some time to get centered, maybe even pray a little.

 

What would you do?

 

Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” As a person who has often used fishing as a way to get away by myself, I’m tempted to think that Peter simply wanted to be alone. But that doesn’t fit here. When Peter went fishing, it involved launching a boat onto a rather large lake in Galilee and using nets, not a rod and reel. And you needed more than one person to run the boat and work the nets. So his words were an invitation. Something like: “Hey guys, I don’t know what else to do right now. It’s almost time to go to bed, but I can’t sleep. Anyone want to go out on the lake with me?” And they said, “Yeah, we’ll go.” They went out a ways onto the lake, and let out the nets.

 

If you’ve ever done any fishing, you know that the anticipation is more than half the fun. What will happen this time? Will I catch anything? Will I even see any signs of a fish? Could it be that lucky day, when all of a sudden, the nets are so full that we can hardly bring them in? Or, for you recreational fisherman... Will I feel that old familiar excitement that comes when you suddenly know you’ve got one on the other end of the line? Will this perhaps be that special day, when almost every time I cast out the lure or the fly, there will be some action? Or will this be one of those lazy days where I just admire the scenery around me, and say, “Oh, well. There’s nothing really happening today. I’ll just relax.”

 

Yes, fishing is maybe 80% anticipation - of what could happen... of what might happen.

 

And at least in the case of Peter and Andrew and James and John, it was what they knew. It was their familiar territory. They knew that lake inside and out. They knew the weather patterns, how to handle the boat in bad weather. They knew their work, and how to work as a team. And they knew the routine. Casting the nets, bringing them in, casting them again. Bringing in the fish, selling them when they got to shore. Cleaning the nets. This was their world. But there were two things about it that stood out. 1) You never knew what was going to happen. And 2) The first time they had met Jesus had been when they were fishing.

 

THE THING YOU KNOW AND LOVE

There is that thing for you. Probably it’s not fishing. But it’s that thing you know and love, that familiar thing, the thing you’re good at, the thing you do where you can lose all awareness of time. The thing you do to get away, to relax, to regain your center. The thing that feeds your soul. Part of the reason it feeds your soul is because you have encountered God there. Not just once, but a number of times. And if you are especially blessed, perhaps you even have two or three of these things - these familiar things you do that feed your soul.

 

On Friday, I had the privilege and the blessing of being able to participate in two of those things that feed my soul. The first was a non-rushed, open-ended conversation with my wife. We discussed a book that we are reading together, we talked about what’s good in our relationship, where we get stuck, what are the growing edges and personal challenges for each of us, what we are learning. We talked about dreams - in particular, our dreams for our relationship. God often shows up in these conversations. Whether the conversation is hard because we don’t feel very connected in that particular moment, or the conversation is more flowing and joyful because we are feeling better about where we are, and our deeper level of connection, God has a way of being present. Sometimes I feel like God is guiding our conversation. Sometimes it’s more like God is just listening in. And when we sit down to talk, there is a certain anticipation. Because we know this has fed our souls before. We know what could happen, because it’s happened before. But we don’t know exactly what will happen.

 

The other thing I did yesterday was go hiking. I went up Green Mountain, right here above Boulder. If I’ve been up Green Mountain, the memory is fuzzy. If so, it was probably twenty years ago. When I go hiking nearby, my car has a habit of heading to Rocky Mountain National Park. But yesterday I drove to NCAR (National Center for Atmospheric Research) and parked, maybe because I started later than usual. Truth be told, I didn’t really have a destination in mind. You know me - up! Go uphill - that’s as much as I knew. I looked at the little map at the trail head, memorized a few trail names, and started walking.

 

Hiking for me is like fishing was for Peter and those other three disciples. It is my familiar ground; it is my comfort zone. If you want to know something about what I am like when I am most relaxed and most joyful... in Boulder someone might say “in your bliss”... then you would have to go on a hike with me. It’s hard to put into words, but I’ll try.

 

There is something about the familiar smells and sounds and sights. A dark-eyed junco darting from this bush to that bush, with its white tail feathers flashing. A little red-breasted nuthatch pecking way at a dead tree, making its new home. The familiar sound of a chickadee. The wondering gurgling sound of a little creek, as it tumbles down through rocks and trees and bushes, with that crystal clear water and now and then, a mini-waterfall to admire. And then, when you find yourself at the top, an absolutely wonderful view of the higher mountains on the Continental Divide, newly covered with fresh snow.

 

And there was the man I met on the trail yesterday - Raul Lopez. There were probably ten or twelve people that I encountered on the trail yesterday. Raul was by far the friendliest. We had an interesting conversation. What made it interesting was that we were both jumping back and forth between English and Spanish, usually within the same sentence - my Spanish not so good, and his English not so good. What made it interesting was that there was a connection there, despite the fact that we had just met. We were both hiking alone. I came upon Raul when he was taking a break, sitting on a nice rock, enjoying the sun and the views. We were alone and enjoying the beautiful day, but we both knew that we weren’t alone. It was delightful encounter. When we stopped talking, and I decided to continue on up the trail, I was smiling. My heart was singing.

 

In the birds - these birds that were so well-loved by my father... in the crossing of Bear Creek, over and over again... in the familiar smell of the pine trees... in the sound of my breath, and my heart beating faster on the uphill sections... in the panoramic views... even in the brief encounter with Raul - I was carried back in time to an old familiar place. My dad used to carry me up the trails when I was too little to walk, but once I started walking, well... I’ve pretty much been doing this hiking thing since I was old enough to power myself uphill. I felt the presence of my parents with me yesterday. I felt God with me. I didn’t know I was going to meet Raul. But that wasn’t a total surprise, either.

 

When I go hiking, there is this interesting combination of familiar ground and anticipation. This is my world. I know, even if I start out hiking in not-so-good weather, I’m probably headed for a good time. There are enough unknowns and enough questions to always keep it interesting. Will we get stormed off the mountain? Will we find the trail to the top? Who will we meet today? What will we see? What kind of shape am I really in? How will God, the risen Lord, show up?

 

WHAT FEEDS YOUR SOUL?

 

You’ve listened to me ramble about a conversation with my wife and about hiking for a while now. That thing that feeds your soul may be similar for you, or it might be quite different. What is it for you? Or, what are those two or three things that really do it for you? (ask them)

 

Is it going for a walk? Having coffee or lunch with a friend? Listening to music, or singing, or playing an instrument? Gardening? Dancing? Reading a good book? Writing? Playing a certain sport? Going to the beach? Traveling to new places?

 

Peter didn’t know what else to do, so he did that familiar thing, that thing that had fed his soul over the years, that thing that also had a certain amount of unpredictability. There was the known and the unknown, and that was a big part of its appeal. So he went fishing, and he and his friends fished all through the night on this particular occasion. And they caught nothing. They watched the sunrise from their boat. Well, there was that, at least. That was always amazing.

 

And then, as they neared the shore, in that time of day when the sound travels so well, they heard what sounded like a familiar voice. “Children, you have no fish, have you?” Whose voice was that? And how did he know? “No.” Then they heard him say something else. “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” Who was this guy? Did he know this lake better than they did? Had he been up all night fishing, with no luck? Oh, what the heck. What have we got to lose? One more cast.

 

Have you ever been fishing for an hour or two, and caught nothing, and your family or friends are telling you it’s time to leave, and you say to them, “One last cast.” There’s always that anticipation. There’s always the possibility... The known and the unknown.

 

So Peter and his friends cast the net one more time. And thus began one of the most memorable mornings they ever had with Jesus.

 

CONCLUSION

 

Those things that you know feed your soul... those familiar things that are still filled with anticipation, because you never quite know how it will unfold this particular time... DO THOSE THINGS! Don’t get so caught up in the details and the busy-ness of your life that you put those things off. Do those things. Those things are the way that you pray. They are the way that you connect with God. On the one hand, they are tried and true. On the other hand, they are fresh and new every time. You know what those things are for you. As I heard a member of this church say recently, “There is no such thing as someday.” Do one of those things that feeds your soul - today.

 

The risen Lord is waiting to meet you. How exactly, we don’t know. But he’s waiting to meet you, in the midst of that thing that you love to do.