Easter Is For Failures--April 25, 2019
After [he appeared to his followers in Jerusalem,] Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. [John 21:1-7]
Ted Turner didn't know how right he was.
The celebrated media mogul once famously offered his opinion that "Christianity is a religion for losers." He intended that as a criticism, of course. But the more I think about it, the clearer it seems that there is no greater compliment to the Christian faith than to say it is for losers--losers like me, losers like you, and a whole world full of mess-ups, failures, letdowns, and disappointments. The Good News, particularly of the resurrection, is that the Risen Jesus is "for" all of us, and Easter is, of all things, for failures.
That's definitely what Simon Peter needed to know at this point of his story. After Jesus had risen from the dead, ol' Pete had to come to terms with the fact that the last thing he had said of his rabbi and Lord was, "I do not know him." He had boasted that his faith would never give out--and then he blew it, big time. He failed at being loyal. He failed at being faithful. He failed at being there for Jesus.
So Pete decided to go back to what he used to be good at--fishing. That had been his job, after all, before he had gotten summoned by Jesus to follow. And he had been at least half-decent at that job, enough to have his own business with his brother. But now, even his actual trade seemed too hard for him. After running away from Jesus because he couldn't shake the ghosts of his failure on the night of Jesus betrayal, Peter now found himself unable to catch a thing after fishing all night. This was one of those moments where it felt like the universe was rubbing it in his face how he had blown it. Everywhere he turned, he felt like a disappointment.
And then Jesus shows up. Alive. And he isn't upset. He doesn't carry a whiff of bitterness or resentment, and he doesn't seem to be carrying any grudges, either. All Jesus brings are open, nail-marked hands, and the invitation for breakfast and a new beginning.
If you know this story from the last chapter of John's Gospel, you know that Jesus and Simon Peter will eventually get to have their own heart-to-heart chat. And you know that eventually Jesus will give Pete the chance to affirm his faith and affirm his love for Jesus, three times in fact: once for each time Peter had denied even knowing Jesus. But even before we get to that moment, notice here that Jesus shows up even while Peter has nothing to offer but his failures. Jesus doesn't wait until Peter catches fish successfully on his own, or until Peter takes the initiative to apologize, or repent, or deny his denials. The risen Jesus meets Peter while he has nothing more to offer but his own failures... and he accepts him just like that. The resurrection makes possible this embrace--Peter needed Jesus to rise from the dead, not simply so he could hope for an afterlife, but so that he could know he was loved even in the midst of his failures in this life, too.
I cannot tell you how much I need that assurance, too. Easter is for failures, yes: failures like Simon Peter, and failures like me. Like you, too, and like someone you know but who probably isn't advertising it, either.
Sometimes we can't shake the ghosts of our past mess-ups. The friend who was counting on me and that I left hanging. The person I should have reached out to, or cared for better, who then walks away or disappears when I didn't do enough. The tender soul who needed me to speak up for them, when I was too afraid to take the risk. The new face who had been burned by religious people before who was hoping to hear a sincere word of welcome, but turned away because I wasn't courageous enough to say, "You are beloved," loud and clear. The kids who feel hurt because I was short-tempered. The hurting heart that needed the right words from me, and I blew it. The list could go on forever.
We are, all of us, in Simon Peter's place--having failed as followers of Jesus and wondering if there's any way he can keep putting up with us (we assume that Jesus is like some pompous, petty boss who might fire us on a whim). And in those moments, we are vulnerable, exposed, naked even--and afraid of what will happen when we do have to face Jesus over our failures.
But here's the thing--just like he does with Simon Peter, the risen Jesus is for us, even at the points where we feel we have let him down. Even at the moments we most feel like failures, Jesus doesn't come with a scowl and a wagging finger, but with those same arms outstretched to us in love. For Peter, the resurrection meant that even his biggest failure couldn't ultimately keep Jesus down; and the same is true for us. For whatever moments we wish we had over again, whatever opportunities we squandered, whatever bridges we had burned, and whatever times we just plain failed, Jesus hasn't given up on us. And he won't.
Good news today, then, for all of us--losers, mess-ups, disappointments, and failures--Jesus is for us. He always has been. And he always will be.
Chances are, there is someone else you know who needs to hear that word today, too.
Lord Jesus, keep on meeting us where we are, as we are, and speak your risen new beginning to us. We need it.
After [he appeared to his followers in Jerusalem,] Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way. Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing. Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach; but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, you have no fish, have you?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in because there were so many fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. [John 21:1-7]
Ted Turner didn't know how right he was.
The celebrated media mogul once famously offered his opinion that "Christianity is a religion for losers." He intended that as a criticism, of course. But the more I think about it, the clearer it seems that there is no greater compliment to the Christian faith than to say it is for losers--losers like me, losers like you, and a whole world full of mess-ups, failures, letdowns, and disappointments. The Good News, particularly of the resurrection, is that the Risen Jesus is "for" all of us, and Easter is, of all things, for failures.
That's definitely what Simon Peter needed to know at this point of his story. After Jesus had risen from the dead, ol' Pete had to come to terms with the fact that the last thing he had said of his rabbi and Lord was, "I do not know him." He had boasted that his faith would never give out--and then he blew it, big time. He failed at being loyal. He failed at being faithful. He failed at being there for Jesus.
So Pete decided to go back to what he used to be good at--fishing. That had been his job, after all, before he had gotten summoned by Jesus to follow. And he had been at least half-decent at that job, enough to have his own business with his brother. But now, even his actual trade seemed too hard for him. After running away from Jesus because he couldn't shake the ghosts of his failure on the night of Jesus betrayal, Peter now found himself unable to catch a thing after fishing all night. This was one of those moments where it felt like the universe was rubbing it in his face how he had blown it. Everywhere he turned, he felt like a disappointment.
And then Jesus shows up. Alive. And he isn't upset. He doesn't carry a whiff of bitterness or resentment, and he doesn't seem to be carrying any grudges, either. All Jesus brings are open, nail-marked hands, and the invitation for breakfast and a new beginning.
If you know this story from the last chapter of John's Gospel, you know that Jesus and Simon Peter will eventually get to have their own heart-to-heart chat. And you know that eventually Jesus will give Pete the chance to affirm his faith and affirm his love for Jesus, three times in fact: once for each time Peter had denied even knowing Jesus. But even before we get to that moment, notice here that Jesus shows up even while Peter has nothing to offer but his failures. Jesus doesn't wait until Peter catches fish successfully on his own, or until Peter takes the initiative to apologize, or repent, or deny his denials. The risen Jesus meets Peter while he has nothing more to offer but his own failures... and he accepts him just like that. The resurrection makes possible this embrace--Peter needed Jesus to rise from the dead, not simply so he could hope for an afterlife, but so that he could know he was loved even in the midst of his failures in this life, too.
I cannot tell you how much I need that assurance, too. Easter is for failures, yes: failures like Simon Peter, and failures like me. Like you, too, and like someone you know but who probably isn't advertising it, either.
Sometimes we can't shake the ghosts of our past mess-ups. The friend who was counting on me and that I left hanging. The person I should have reached out to, or cared for better, who then walks away or disappears when I didn't do enough. The tender soul who needed me to speak up for them, when I was too afraid to take the risk. The new face who had been burned by religious people before who was hoping to hear a sincere word of welcome, but turned away because I wasn't courageous enough to say, "You are beloved," loud and clear. The kids who feel hurt because I was short-tempered. The hurting heart that needed the right words from me, and I blew it. The list could go on forever.
We are, all of us, in Simon Peter's place--having failed as followers of Jesus and wondering if there's any way he can keep putting up with us (we assume that Jesus is like some pompous, petty boss who might fire us on a whim). And in those moments, we are vulnerable, exposed, naked even--and afraid of what will happen when we do have to face Jesus over our failures.
But here's the thing--just like he does with Simon Peter, the risen Jesus is for us, even at the points where we feel we have let him down. Even at the moments we most feel like failures, Jesus doesn't come with a scowl and a wagging finger, but with those same arms outstretched to us in love. For Peter, the resurrection meant that even his biggest failure couldn't ultimately keep Jesus down; and the same is true for us. For whatever moments we wish we had over again, whatever opportunities we squandered, whatever bridges we had burned, and whatever times we just plain failed, Jesus hasn't given up on us. And he won't.
Good news today, then, for all of us--losers, mess-ups, disappointments, and failures--Jesus is for us. He always has been. And he always will be.
Chances are, there is someone else you know who needs to hear that word today, too.
Lord Jesus, keep on meeting us where we are, as we are, and speak your risen new beginning to us. We need it.
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