Acts 9:1-19a, Revelation 5:6-14, John 21:1-14
St. Stephen's Episcopal Church, West Valley City, UT
The Rev'd W. Lee Shaw
Alleluia Christ is risen. The Lord is risen indeed. Alleluia! What an incredible set of readings we have this morning. Our reading from Acts is one of the most well known conversion experiences we know of: Saul, enemy of the Christian sect, sees a bright light and hears the voice of Jesus. Too many times, too many Christians expect/hope for a similar gotta know for sure conversion experience. But it is not an easy one. Saul is blinded. He is led by hand to Damascus. Finally a faithful believer, Ananias, goes to him, prays for him, and his sight is restored. Saul is then baptized. The chief persecutor of the early Christians becomes our first and most famous missionary.
A lot is here, but for me one thing stands out more than anything else: Saul is going about his business when he encounters Christ. He is just doing his job, on one more business trip, meeting his quota, getting things done for the boss, doing his job as best he can. Then Christ steps into his life and everything is changed. He was not looking, wanting, needing Christ. He had work to do. But God needed Saul. God needed Saul to be Paul, the missionary and apostle. Saul was just doing his thing, his every day thing, when God stepped into the midst of his life and changed him forevever.
Then we have the wonderful story of brunch on the beach with Jesus. What a great description of Jesus breaking into the lives of the disciples. They have seen Jesus a couple of times now, still not sure what to make of it, so let's get back to work. They go fishing. This is not fly casting on a warm afternoon in June, this is backbreaking all night work. Peter even works up such a sweat he peals off his upper clothing. All to no avail; no fish are caught at all.
Then, Jesus is seen. Jesus is recognized. This is a come to
Jesus moment, literally. The other times Jesus came to them, but
now they come to Jesus. Peter even swims ashore. No longer asking
Jesus to let him walk on water, no longer saying, Depart from me
for I am a sinful man.
No, Peter cannot wait to get to his friend
and his Lord.
And now, Jesus cooks breakfast for them. All I can say is wow: Jesus cooking breakfast. This is one of the most intimate and domestic scenes in all of Scripture. It is again a time of people doing their regular thing, getting the work done, supporting the family, the daily grind, when Jesus breaks into the midst of their lives in a new, unexpected, and surprising way.
What these stories have in common is the transcendent nature of God: God coming into our lives in new and unexpected ways. This is a God who enters into the midst of our life while we are going about our life, not even looking for God. This is about a God who loves us.
Why did they not recognize him? They had seen him twice already,
they knew him intimately. But it is John, the one Jesus loved, who
recognizes him. Basil Pennington, Cistercian monk and theologian,
writes: The account makes us realize that it is only the eyes of
the one who loves that perceive the Lord: in himself, in others,
and in his creation. It was the disciple whom Jesus loved who first
recognized Jesus,
(Breaking Bread).
We see, feel, know Christ through the eyes and heart of love: love of God, love of each other, love of creation, love of self. We know God through love. We love for God first loved us. God's first gift to us, the gift of love.
God—Christ—breaking into our midst, into the middle of us doing our thing. We believe Christ is really present in the elements of the Holy Communion, the bread and the wine. We must also be prepared to meet Christ in our midst in the most unexpected and unusual of places. Christ is always coming into our midst, sometimes when we least expect, or even desire Christ to be there.
While in a seminary liturgics class we were required to write a Eucharist Prayer. It could be for a regular Sunday, or special event such as a Nuptial Mass, Requiem Mass, whatever. I chose to write a Eucharistic prayer specifically for Easter: It would only be used for the Great Vigil, or the main service of Easter Sunday. Given how I look at liturgy I went to ancient sources. I incorporated into my Mass elements of Jewish synagogue prayer, and aspects of ancient Christian worship, plus a few things of my own, of course. Some year, with the bishop's approval, I may use it here for Easter.
During the canon of the Mass the congregation would respond at times
with the opening lines of an ancient Jewish berakah or prayer: We
bless you and we praise you,
(not unlike Prayer D that we are
now using). For the Fraction Anthem I borrowed from Eastern tradition
the phrase: Christ is in our midst,
and the congregation responds:
He is and always will be.
It seemed to me the perfect Easter
formula at the time the bread is broken. I was reminded a while
ago that this is how the Eastern Church exchanges the Peace: Christ
is in our midst. He is and ever will be.
I find this a powerful way of confessing that Christ is always in
our midst, in the most unexpected, unplanned, and surprising ways.
As I have said several times, when we exchange the Peace, we are
exchanging the Peace of Christ to the person next to us, who is in
the image of Christ. It is not our Peace, it is the Peace of Christ.
As a reminder of this, I plan to incorporate this phrase as an
introduction to the Peace for us, as we greet those around us in
the name of Christ, as we share the Shalom of Christ: Christ is
in our midst. He is and ever will be.