April 23, 2004
Going fishing
Notandum: I’m pleased to come out from my recent trip under the weather to at least be on a par with it and start functioning again. I’ve missed all you brilliant and curious readers. — JLD
Lent 3C [Jn 21.1-14]
Comedian Mort Sahl once observed that fishing is the activity of doing something when you’re not doing anything.
As John tells it, he more or less leaves the impression the disciples weren’t doing much of anything, just standing around, maybe wondering what on earth they’d got themselves into. But then Peter broke the spell.
“I’m going fishing.” At least, I’m going to do something while I’m not doing anything, anyway. (By the by, this story’s a good source for some trivia question about the disciples’ names [Jn 21.1-14]). So they all said, in effect, we’re not doing anything either, so “we’ll go with you.”
It’s amazing now to remember how simple was this little scene and how simple-minded were these fishers who, John records, couldn’t even recognize Jesus who stood there on the beach. It wasn’t all that long, remember, since the resurrection, an event, we might imagine that we could expect might just have caught their attention and set them in motion as much, maybe, as a tornado coming across the water.
But no, they’d had to do something when they weren’t doing anything. It’s easy to miss this turn, blinded by what’s probably the mother of all fish stories. And it seems easy enough to miss the big Easter surprise, itself.
I wonder how much of what followed on Easter Day and in the days and years to come could best be understood as a desperate attempt to explain the inexplicable, to get reality back under control? I am trying to understand why the disciples — and we who cherish so our succession with them — respond to the resurrection of Jesus by doing exactly the opposite of what he commanded.
Why did they — and we — move quickly to define in precise words a Messiah who spoke in ironically ambiguous parables? Why did they — and we — create hierarchies to serve one who clearly rejected hierarchies? Why did they — and we — marginalize women in the name of one who welcomed women to his inner circle and who appeared first to them that they became the apostles to the apostles?
Why did they — and we — create standards of admission to see and be with a Savior who gladly welcomed and ate with sinners? Why did they — and we — become advocates for war, privilege, wealth, hatred, and pride in the name of one who gave his life to defeat such darkness?
Of course, it was good to catch those fish. Maybe they should just have stayed with it, remain unsurprised, not recognize Jesus, and just let it be. Not try to explain it. Not try to get reality back under control. Not dive under the covers of intellect. Not domesticate surprise. Instead of all that, just savor the moment, allow God to keep on speaking in his surprising ways… and start listening.
I wonder if God had more to say on Easter Day, and nobody had the courage to wait and hear what it might be. Me? I’m going fishing. It’s a lot safer.
This sure(ly)…to be grammatically correct, yet less emphatic, beats most, if not all Easter 3 sermons, especially the one…..never mind, as Emily Latella said!
Comment by Dolores N. — April 25, 2004 @ 7:23 pm