April 11, 2013

Today’s text

John 21:9-13

As soon as they came ashore they saw that there was some bread there and a charcoal fire with fish cooking on it. Jesus said, 'Bring some of the fish you have just caught.' Simon Peter went aboard and dragged the net ashore, full of big fish, one hundred and fifty-three of them; and in spite of there being so many the net was not broken. Jesus said to them, 'Come and have breakfast.' None of the disciples was bold enough to ask, 'Who are you?' They knew quite well it was the Lord. Jesus then stepped forward, took the bread and gave it to them, and the same with the fish. 

Reflection

Life is about eating. Breathing comes first, of course, but eating is just as basic. We must eat to live, and what and how we eat determines how we live.

For years I often ate lunch alone at my desk, a pattern I am told is common in many offices. I told myself I was getting more work done. Meanwhile, I was starving my soul of community, of laughter, of time to tell stories, share food and … life.

Every invitation to come and eat is an invitation to life, to a communion of presence and welcome that tells us we belong. We are wanted. It tells us that the universe wants to feed us and make us more alive.

Never is this more true than with the invitation of Jesus to come and eat and to do so with other souls as hungry as oneself.

Before anything else we need this meal, early in the morning before we enter the work that will deplete energies of our bodies, if not also ours souls.

“Come and eat,” Jesus says to Peter and his other disciples, including those late to the party like you and me. “Come and eat. The food is prepared. I have cooked it for you, and it is for you. Surely, you know that.

“It is my pleasure to prepare this food. It is not an imposition for me. You are not putting me out.

“The food I give is my life, the life you receive by sitting with me in the warmth of the fire of divine love that burns in this heart of mine for you.

“Come and sit here with me. You will find food for your soul.”

There is no more characteristic action of Jesus than taking bread in his hands and breaking it open to be shared, which is exactly what he does with his heart, his life; and its exactly what he invites us to do, once we have been fed, of course.

So it is no surprise Peter and his buddies didn’t ask whether it was Jesus who was feeding them. They didn’t need to. Jesus was doing what always did.

Pr. David L. Miller

April 10, 2013

 Today’s text

John 21:4-7

When it was already light, there stood Jesus on the shore, though the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. Jesus called out, 'Haven't you caught anything, friends?' And when they answered, 'No,' he said, 'Throw the net out to starboard and you'll find something.' So they threw the net out and could not haul it in because of the quantity of fish. The disciple whom loved said to Peter, 'It is the Lord.' At these words, 'It is the Lord,' Simon Peter tied his outer garment round him (for he had nothing on) and jumped into the water. 

Reflection

There is enough and always will be enough.

Sometimes one knows without knowing. Nothing in the outer world changes, no word is spoken bringing new information, but quiet settles on the heart because it knows there will be enough.

Enough of what the heart needs to be happy, to live in peace, to smile and know that life is good and grace endures everything in this life and extends to the next. Sometimes you just know.

Today is a day of knowing.

Jesus stands in the light of new morning, eternal morning. To see him there is to enter the morning that lasts forever, to taste and know you will have what your heart needs and there is no need for anxiety about anything.

But Jesus friends do not yet see him. They have labored hard but have caught nothing. Throw the net to the other side, he yells.

I guess you need to know where the fish are to get what you need.

Or perhaps you just need to know where Jesus is. Perhaps you just need to see him standing in the light of morning waiting for you.

The great catch of fish is a symbol of the many nations that will be caught up in Jesus because his friends go tell the story of who he is. But first it is a story of emptiness and fullness.

It is the story of the emptiness of those who need him and the fullness that comes when we see and know that, in him, the fullness of God dwells and from him we will receive what our hearts require … and more.

I don’t know why Peter put on some clothes and threw himself in the water when he realized Jesus was standing on the shore. Some suggest his shame over denying Jesus overcame him, and he had to cover himself--or try to drown himself to escape it.

I prefer to think he couldn’t wait to get to morning.

Pr. David L. Miller

April 9, 2013

Today’s text

John 21:1-4

Later on, Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples. It was by the Sea of Tiberias, and it happened like this:  Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathaniel from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee and two more of his disciples were together. Simon Peter said, 'I'm going fishing.' They replied, 'We'll come with you.' They went out and got into the boat but caught nothing that night. When it was already light, there stood Jesus on the shore, though the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. 

 Reflection

I am going to the shore today. Someone is waiting for me there.

There are moments in the gospels that are easy to see, and so many others I want to see but cannot, which is frustrating because seeing brings me peace. Today, I see.

Jesus stands there waiting. His bare feet on the sand, he looks across the watery expanse as Peter and the others pull at the oars and creep across the waves.  

The water was a safe place for Peter, a place apart where troubles evaporated in work, waves and the winds which he understood, knowing when to make for shore as storms brewed. His head was clear on the water. He knew who he was and what to do.

But that was then. This was on the other side of Jesus, and the water no longer allowed escape, not from the pain of having failed his promise to stand with Jesus, not from the ache of missing the sound of his voice and the way it felt to be near him.

The water no longer gave him what he needed. Only Jesus, the feeling of his nearness, the sight of his face, the welcome of his open hands and the silence of his soul could silence the pain of his own.

He did not know it, yet. But Jesus stood on the shore, waiting for him to see and surrender his attempts to give peace to his own soul and receive the peace that only Jesus can give.

Peter does not yet see, but I do. I see him standing there. So I make my way to shore repeating the words, “Only Jesus. Only Jesus. Only you.”

They are my mantra, the rowing of my soul against the waves that pull me away. Two short words fix my vision on Jesus standing there, waiting.

The sight brings peace beyond the futility of my efforts to give my heart what it most needs. What I most need is you, Jesus. Only you.

Pr. David L. Miller

April 8, 2013

Today’s text

John 21:1-4

Later on, Jesus revealed himself again to the disciples. It was by the Sea of Tiberias, and it happened like this:  Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathaniel from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee and two more of his disciples were together. Simon Peter said, 'I'm going fishing.' They replied, 'We'll come with you.' They went out and got into the boat but caught nothing that night. When it was already light, there stood Jesus on the shore, though the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus. 

 Reflection

What do you do when you have a broken heart? Peter went fishing and took his friends along.

He returned to the work he had done before he met Jesus, the work Jesus used as a metaphor for describing his mission: to catch the hearts and souls of lost human beings and join them to himself in one family, one community of God’s kingdom.

Peter returned to what he knew, fleeing what he could never fully understand. Perhaps his hurt and confusion would fade if he could sink himself in old patterns and habits that had once been enough for him.

Night had returned, and he got in the boat and pushed off.

But how do you flee into the night once your heart has been pierced by a light and love that made you more alive than you have ever been? How do you grieve the loss and move on? Can filling your days fill your heart?

Peter went fishing at night, which is a way of saying he was in the dark, whistling in the dark to be more accurate. He hoped could chase the hurt away by filling his days with what he once knew.

But it would never be enough. Certainly he knew this as he stared into the inky darkness of the night waters when no fish came to distract him from his melancholy.

Hope came with the morning light. The light was not merely another day, but a truly new day lit by the presence of Jesus, who stood there … waiting, unrecognized but already invading the darkness that weighed on Peter.

Only this, only knowing him, only basking in his presence would heal the hurt and send Peter into a new day, singing a song of grace as only hearts once-broken know how to sing.

Only the broken know how to greet the dawn of grace that awaits them each morning. Only they know how to sing the song that heals the brokenness.

Pr. David L. Miller