“Lost”
A Sermon by Rev. Patrice Ficken
John 21:1-19
Sanbornton Congregational Church, UCC
April 22, 2007
(Please do not re-print or re-use without permission of the author)
This week we have been painfully reminded – as stated by our conference minister in his email to us and in our opening prayer – that despite our Easter proclamations – we live in a Good Friday world. We are reminded that in the shadow of death, of loss – life will never be the same:
The families whose loved ones were ripped from them through senseless violence – will never be the same.
The community of Virginia Tech – will never be the same. Indeed, college, university life may never be the same.
And here in
When such storms sweep through our lives and communities, we may feel lost, not sure where we belong, where to turn.
Our gospel reading this morning finds the disciples still in the dark shadow of Good Friday. Before we go further – a few reminders about the Gospel of John. It was written at least 60 to 80 years after Jesus’ death; it is a narrative written by one of the earliest Christian communities; a community under persecution; a community trying to find its place in the world. We could say – this is a community that feels “lost:” its faith in Christ rejected by fellow members of the Jewish faith; its future anything but certain.
Signs the disciples are lost: (from the previous chapter of John)
Mary stands alone weeping in the garden, confused and distraught over the empty tomb.
Later, the disciples gather behind closed doors, trying to regroup, or gain comfort from one another, fearing persecution.
Peter in particular is lost He is the disciple, you will remember, that Jesus predicted would deny him three times during the crucial hours after Jesus’ arrest and before his death. “Before the cock crows you will deny me three times.” Jesus said to Peter who, of course, could not believe he would do such a thing.
So in the aftermath of Jesus’ death – we can only imagine Peter’s heartache, indeed the heartache of all the disciples. We meet them here – at this intersection of memory and longing and hope.
John O’Donohue, writer, poet, scholar writes in his beautiful book, Eternal Echoes says that our world is experiencing a “crisis of belonging.” He writes:
“In post-modern culture there is a deep hunger to belong. An increasing majority of people feel isolated and marginalized. Experience is haunted by fragmentation. Many of the traditional shelters are in ruins. Society is losing the art of fostering community. Consumerism is now propelling life towards the lonely isolation of individualism. Technology pretends to unite us, yet often than not all it delivers are simulated images. The “global village” has no roads or neighbors; it is a faceless limbo from which all individuality has been abstracted.” (Eternal Echoes, by John O’Donohue, Prologue p. 14)
This week we have seen how much damage a lost soul can do – a person who apparently lived on the outside looking in, who did not feel a sense of belonging, who did not seem to fit anywhere, and who was not seen until he wreaked tragedy and misery.
Our longing is often externally focused. We look for someone, something to validate our worthiness, to affirm our right to be here, or to justify our existence. Our longing can keep us in perpetual motion, always searching, always looking to answer the vague call from within.
As we stand in the shadow of another tragedy, our longing is that such events will never happen again but that can only be true if the circle of belonging is all inclusive. As long as there is any language of hate; of making people “other”, we can never make schools, communities safe enough.
O’Donohue continues:
“Why do we need to belong? Why is this desire so deeply rooted in every heart? The longing to belong seems to be ancient and is at the core of our nature. Though you may often feel isolated, it is the nature of your soul to belong. The soul can never be separate, its eternal dream is intimacy and belonging. When we are rejected or excluded, we become deeply wounded. To be forced out, to be pushed to the margin, hurts us.” (Eternal Echoes ,p. 4)
In John’s Gospel, the Risen Christ meets the disciples at the moments of their deepest longing. He meets Mary at the tomb. He meets them behind closed doors at their moment of fear.
And Jesus meets them once again. As the disciples seek to reconnect with their once familiar life, to reaffirm their place of belonging, how they experience him we do not know. Perhaps they experienced his presence as palpable when they cast their nets and discovered them full – reminding them of the first time Jesus instructed them to cast their nets to the other side and invited them to follow him.
The disciples then gather round and have breakfast – eating the fish they caught, breaking the bread together – warmed again by Jesus’ presence and literally taking it into their bodies – the fish – a symbol for Jesus – the broken bread – reminiscent of the last supper.
And then Jesus questions Peter three times – “Do you love me?” Jesus asks Peter three times to help him to take it in – to physically say with his words, to hear his voice proclaim, “Yes Lord, you know that I love you.” It is how Peter is reminded where his heart belongs. His heart’s longing and belonging is with Jesus. This will determine the shape of his life through good times and bad.
Yes, in this Good Friday world, there will be times in each of our lives – when we feel lost, when we do not know who were are, or where we belong. We too can listen for and answer the call of the shepherd; the One who calls to us lost sheep and lost lambs. He calls to us gently and lovingly – with only one question – do you love me?
It is the only question we need to answer. Because when we know where our hearts belong, we can always find our way. And when we know the answer, we also know where our responsibility belongs – to reach out, to embrace and to look out for the lost, the lonely, the heartbroken; to love our neighbor as ourselves; to love God with all of mind, body, heart and soul.
Amen.
