For some preacher types this is known as “Low Sunday.” It means that the attendance is way less that is was on Easter! I have also heard it referred to as “Canon Ball Sunday.” It suggests that you can shoot a canon through the congregation and not hit anybody.

I learned something about the Easter crowds a long time ago. There are many people who come to church two or three times a month, but they always make it on Easter. It is not just a church filled with people who come only for Christmas and Easter. For those who come less than every week, they are always here on that day.

In the cycle of the Christian year, the Sunday after Easter is anything but a “low” Sunday. It represents a time of increasing awareness and excitement about the Easter event. As the days passed for the followers of Jesus, awareness and awe grew. They experienced a radical shift in their understanding and attitude. They realized that they now lived in a world where death held no threat. Courage flourished where fear once dominated. They could face darkness unafraid. They realized that at every moment they were in the presence of the living Christ. That is why Paul says in one of his letters, “We are more than conquerors.”

One of the post-Easter stories comes in the 21^st chapter of John. Seven of the disciples are gathered along the Sea of Galilee. They are wondering what to do. What is next on the agenda? They had heard the Easter story but it was hard to assimilate. The stories brought amazement, perplexity, doubt and some terror. Not that they disbelieved. It was simply not an event that was on their radar screens.

In my church in the 1970’s I had a youth folk choir that sang a lot with guitars and banjos. Their favorite song had an often repeated refrain, “Shout out your joy.” The disciples could not quite yet do that. Joy was stuck in their throats.

Peter says to the others, “I am going fishing.” The others said, “Me too.” To add insult to injury they fished all night and caught nothing. Can you imagine their feelings after that? How low could their feelings go? Not only had Jesus died, but they now couldn’t fish anymore.

Just after daybreak, Jesus appears on the beach. It is still murky and foggy. They think it is stranger. But he speaks to them as a fishing guide. He says to them, “Let down your nets.” They say, “But, but, but… we fished all night and got nothing.” The stranger repeats his words, “Let down your nets.” They did as he commanded and they harvested a huge haul of fish.

They quickly rode the boat to shore and joined the stranger for a fish breakfast with their catch. Gradually they became aware of who this fishing expert was. Jesus was once more real and present to them and for them.

The most interesting part of this post-Easter story is Jesus’ conversation with Peter. Three times Jesus says to Peter, “Peter, do you love me?” Peter affirms that he does and then Jesus says, “Take care of my lambs” or “feed my sheep.”  Many interpretations exist for this post-Easter moment. One interpretation says the three questions of Jesus parallels the three denials that Peter made the night Jesus was betrayed and put on trial. Others suggest that the questions asked three times by Jesus means that repetition and reinforcement are very important.

Let me give you my take on this exchange between Peter and Jesus. I think that there are two pieces to it. 

MOMENT OF GRACE

First, there is the moment of grace. Peter is reclaimed as a friend of Jesus. He is reclaimed as a child of grace after denying that he even knew Jesus. After bolting and running when things got hot (with all of the others), after essentially giving up on Jesus and going back to his fishing, Peter rediscovers his great worth to his Master.

Bishop William Willimon tells of talking about the United Methodist Church at a conference in Salt Lake City a few years ago. He spoke about changes that needed to be made in the United Methodist Church. He talked about the failures of our denomination. When he was finished a man stood up to make a comment. He said something like this:

I spent 30 years in a church of another denomination… Then I became a Methodist. Until I got mixed up with the Methodists, no one had ever told me about the devastatingly wonderful grace of God. In 30 years no one had even suggested that God’s grace was for me, even me. Sometimes folks forget the fun of being heirs of John and Charles Wesley.[I]

Peter discovered Grace early in that early morning fish breakfast. Jesus intentionally salvaged Peter’s besmirched record of failure.

He does the same for you and me. That is what John is telling you and me in this story. Whatever your failure, whatever your less than faithful living, whatever the broken places in your life, Jesus comes and shows up at a meal and says, “You are my child. I still love you. Here. Take and eat.”

But Jesus makes an important addition to this as well. He says, “Feed my sheep. Take care of my lambs. Take care of my sheep.”

WITH GRACE COMES RESPONSIBILITY

Jesus says that with grace now comes responsibility. Peter is now to serve God in a new venue, a new moment in history. He is to fearlessly live out a deep care and justice for all God’s children. This is a fish breakfast commissioning. “Ah yes, Peter. You are a child of grace, but there is more.”

Peter is not forgiven simply so he can feel good again. Rather, he is forgiven so he can serve with energy, imagination and love. The awareness of grace makes work for Peter. But it is the work that makes life worth living.

The point of repetition and reinforcement is to better tend the sheep is not simply tend to yourself.

Garrison Keillor writes about Larry, a resident of fictional town of Lake Wobegon, Minnesota. This is what he says:

Larry was saved 12 times at the Lutheran church, an all-time record for a church that never gave altar calls. There wasn’t even an organ playing “Just As I Am Without One Plea” in the background. Regardless of that, Larry Sorenson came forward 12 times, weeping buckets and crumpled up at the communion rail, to the shock of the minister, who had delivered a dry sermon on stewardship. But now the minister needed to put his arm around Larry and pray with him and be certain he had a way to get home.

Keillor writes, “Even we fundamentalists got tired of Larry. God didn’t mean for you to feel guilty all your life. There comes a time when you should dry your tears and join the building committee and grapple with the problems of the church furnace and the church roof. But Larry just kept repenting and repenting.”

There are no conditions to God’s grace. But there is a commission. There is work to do. You do not earn the forgiveness and acceptance of God. But the work is a way of expressing gratitude for the gift of grace. It is a way of living the new, resurrected life you have received.

I remember a title of a book on Wesleyan theology entitled Grace and Responsibility.

We who are blessed and grace bestowed do the same. We are to feed and care for the children of God. We are to be protecting and caring for all whom Christ loves. It may be here in the South Hills through SHIM. It may be on the North Side through the New Hope church community. Soon it may be through a new community of faith in the Homestead area. It may be on the Gulf coasts of Mississippi and Louisiana. And it may be at a mission hospital in Nyadire, Zimbabwe half way around the world. Sometimes it gets messy; sometimes it is inconvenient, sometimes it is uncomfortable. But the commission is ours.

The world is a different place because of Easter. We are bestowed with grace. We are reclaimed as God’s friends. But with that grace comes unending responsibility. Feed my sheep. Take care of my lambs.

Take and eat. Remember that you are valued, remember that you are loved. And get to work.

That is my take on this story in John 21.[II]