The Church of St.
Paul & Incarnation, Jersey City NJ
May 5, 2019
Year C: The Third
Sunday of Easter
Acts 9:1-20
Psalm 30
Revelation 5:11-14
John 21:1-19
Making Our Lives Matter More, Wounds and All
Alleluia!
Christ is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
You
know, every once in a while a news story really hits close to home.
A
couple of weeks ago, I was surprised by how deeply sad I felt watching the roof
of Notre Dame burn and collapse. I’m fortunate enough to have visited there a
couple of times but it was not a particularly meaningful place for me.
But,
throughout the day, watching on social media and TV, my stomach sank as the
flames spread and I, along with people all around the world, feared that the
whole building might be lost.
I
don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me why I found the whole fiery scene so
upsetting.
First,
I was upset by the loss of so much history, the possible loss of a place where
people had worshipped and prayed and wondered for nearly a millennium.
Second,
that inferno in Paris tapped into one of my biggest fears about our
church – this one hundred and fifty year old marvel of wood frame construction.
I
really, really don’t like to think about it, but I’ve always worried about fire
here, though I’ve consoled myself that the firehouse is at the corner and that
this old wood would burn pretty slowly.
The
firehouse is still there but watching the 900 year-old lumber of Notre Dame
burn like matchsticks shattered my illusions about the wood all around us here.
That
Monday – the Monday of Holy Week – my mind immediately turned to the Easter
Vigil, the one service every year where we distribute handheld candles to the
congregation, the one service when my heart is in my mouth, the one service
when I can usually smell the faint hint of smoldering as an inattentive
parishioner starts to burn her bulletin, the one service when Vanessa always
sticks close to a fire extinguisher!
My mind immediately turned to the Easter Vigil
and I decided that I just couldn’t bring myself to use the candles this year.
Instead, we
adjusted the lighting, definitely losing some of the drama but I have to say it
was by far the most enjoyable Easter Vigil since I’ve been here!
And, the other
recent news story that really hit close to home was the shooting last Saturday
– the last day of Passover – at a synagogue in Poway, California.
Rabbi Yisroel
Goldstein was preparing to deliver his sermon when he heard a loud bang in the
lobby. He ran out to find one of his members bleeding, dying, on the floor. The
angry young armed man was right there and opened fire on the rabbi, hitting him
in both of his hands, obliterating one of his index fingers. Covered in blood,
the rabbi still managed to get to where the children were, chasing them out,
probably saving at least some of their lives.
After injuring a
couple of other congregants, the attacker’s rifle jammed and he fled.
Somehow, as his
congregation gathered on the sidewalk, waiting for help, the rabbi managed to
preach – to preach words of encouragement, defiance, and, most of all trust in
God, no matter what.
Obviously, reading
about this makes me and our vestry members think about safety here.
And, reading about
the heroism of the rabbi makes me wonder if I would have his presence of mind
in the midst of such terror.
Not only did Rabbi
Goldstein act heroically when his people were attacked, a couple of days later
he wrote a very moving article that was published in The New York Times.
In the piece he
tells the story of the attack and then he announces that, going forward, his
lost finger will serve as a reminder that he’s living on borrowed time.
And, rather than
hiding his Jewishness he’s going to be more “brazen” with his faith, with his
identity, with his love – this wounded rabbi is going to shine even more light
into the darkness.
Rabbi Goldstein
writes that he’s going to use his borrowed time to make his life matter more.
Making our lives
matter more.
In today’s gospel
lesson we heard what’s usually thought of as the epilogue to the Gospel of John.
It’s kind of a
P.S. to the gospel, included perhaps because there was still some unfinished
business – unfinished business for Jesus and unfinished business for Peter.
It’s a mysterious
scene with Peter and some of the other disciples fishing. Even after meeting
the Risen Jesus, their lives seem to have gone back to more or less normal.
They still need to earn a living.
After an
unsuccessful night of empty nets, early the next morning they encounter the
Risen Jesus on the beach – the Risen Jesus who is still himself – the Risen
Jesus who as Thomas discovered still carries those wounds in his hands and his
side – but he’s also transformed, able to appear and disappear, able to go
unrecognized even by the people who knew him best.
Anyway, Jesus
encourages his fishermen friends to try for fish again and this time there is
so much abundance – so many fish (153 of them, but who’s counting?) that the
net should have torn but it didn’t.
Then Jesus invites
his friends to a fish breakfast and we get to the unfinished business.
You’ll remember
that after Jesus had been arrested, Simon Peter had denied Jesus three times –
denied even knowing him.
Peter certainly
hadn’t forgotten that and you have to wonder how he dealt with the guilt he
must have felt about his betrayal and cowardice – guilt that didn’t magically
disappear when it turned out that death was not the end for Jesus – guilt that
may have even dulled Peter’s Easter joy.
Well, Jesus has
also not forgotten Peter’s denials, and now pointedly asks him three times: “Do
you love me?”
There’s a lot
going on under the surface of this little exchange between Jesus and Peter but
each time Peter declares that, yes, he loves Jesus.
And, each time
Jesus basically says, O.K., prove that love – live out that love - by feeding
and taking care of the sheep.
Finally, this
haunting exchange concludes with a little foreshadowing as Jesus predicts the
kind of death that Peter would endure – that ultimately he would be taken
prisoner and be executed for following Jesus.
But, in the
meantime, Jesus points Peter to how he is to live his life – how he is to live
out being a follower of Jesus – by taking care of others – by feeding the
sheep.
The truth is we’re
not going to get through life without wounds.
Even Jesus
couldn’t get through life without getting wounded!
Things that we
thought would last forever burn and vanish.
People get
inflamed by hate and do terrible, unspeakable things.
People we love get
sick. People we love get hurt. People we love die.
Sometimes we fall
short, hurting the very people we say that we love the most.
We wound others
and we wound ourselves.
We get wounded.
And, those wounds
never vanish completely, but God loves us wounds and all, and will never let go
of us, no matter what.
And so, just like
for Rabbi Goldstein and for Peter, the only way forward is to make our lives
matter more – and we do that not by piling up lots of money or gaining fame and
power – but by loving and feeding one another.
There is a very
old tradition – one which was probably known by the first readers and hearers
of the Gospel of John – that in the 60s of the first century Peter was killed
in Rome – martyred around the same time and place as Paul, whose conversion
story we heard in today’s first lesson.
In Peter’s case, the
tradition is that he was crucified upside-down, and that upside-down cross is
still used to symbolize St. Peter today.
As Jesus had
predicted, Peter was led to where he did not want to go, and he would endure a
few more wounds before he died.
And yet, I like to
think that even in those last minutes, Peter must have remembered the Risen but
still wounded Jesus – the Jesus who loved him no matter what, wounds and all.
Alleluia! Christ
is risen!
The Lord is risen indeed! Alleluia!
Amen.
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