‘After these things Jesus showed himself again to his disciples at the Sea of Tiberias.’
The sea is calm tonight, smooth and silky -
With whispered breezes creasing its surface with mild undulations;
Stars are out – the moon also; she hangs large,
An opalescent orb;
Stillness is everywhere.
There’s a kind of hiatus here – awaiting, in bated silence.
A silver filigree of froth washes up along the beach,
Defining and re-defining that line
Where land and water meet.
The rough walls of the houses, reflect a cold argent light,
the deep indigo waters of the Galilean lake, whisper.
Not many boats are out; it’s not a night for fishing;
Conditions aren’t right it seems.
A long line of moored boats in slightly deeper water creak and sway
As they are lightly lifted and sifted
By the rise and fall of the slow-moving, rounded waves that
Move shore-ward but never break.
Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee,
The Sons of Zebedee and two others of His disciples were together.
All of a sudden,
Peter jumps up and says,
‘Come on, I’m going fishing.’
They all scrambled up, eager to have something, anything
That seemed necessary for them to do.
Hours later, their boat moves gently back towards the shore.
The moon has now dipped behind the hills,
And flat, grey tones of no-light, wash the sea and shore.
A typical early dawn.
Monochrome-grey, with splashes of brown,
Olive green and white
Except for …
A flickering glimmer
Of yellow-red-gold.
A small leaping fire
With its plume of dark early smoke;
And tending it,
A bent figure
Wrapped in a blue over-blanket.
All else is still.
As their boat draws nearer the shore
They smell the smoke,
They hear the small explosions of the
Dry, crackling expanding wood
As it kindles and breaks into flames.
The figure hails them!
‘Caught anything lads?’
‘Not a thing,’ they signal back to him;
‘Haul out again and drop the nets on the other side,
I’ve a hunch there’s fish moving down there!’
Glad to obey, they steer the boat out to the isolation of the lake’.
A good excuse to avoid having to answer the taunts
About the fiasco of the recent Passover
And of their now leaderless existence.
The net pulled and sagged, what could it be?
Young John voiced their bewildered thoughts -
‘It’s Him, He’s back!’
So, when the boat was a mere chest depth from the shore,
Peter was gone – headlong into the water,
Lunging, spluttering and gasping towards
The figure standing by the crackling, red fire.
Yes, it was Him!
They clasped Him,
Hugged and blessed Him
And each other,
But in eloquence silence.
Hearts and eyes too full;
Words and voices – unnecessary.
Together, they drew around Him,
Holding him within the circle of their wonder.
In the grey dawn
Drawn into the light of Him,
In a silence
That reverberated upwards
To the Heavenly realm;
And in time,
That seemed outside time,
They continued to
Wait silently,
For Jesus to share
His feast with them.
Oh, the blessing of remembering their earlier supper with Him,
Days earlier, in Jerusalem.
‘Do this in remembrance of me’
United in deep silence,
They rested with Him and in Him.
All except Peter,
Whose every fibre willed Jesus to speak to him -
Yet afraid of what He might say.
So, when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
‘Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me more than these?’
Peter reflects:
Indicating all of us, Jesus sweeps a circle in the direction of the men;
Guilt engulfs me, love tears my heart;
‘Yes Lord, you know that I love you,’
I whisper, head bowed.
‘Feed my lambs’ … He replied.
Jesus moves and prods the wood on the fire;
Sparks fly into the sky above,
A wave of warmth …
Some of us shift our positions, and settle again;
Drowsy …
I turn and raise my eyes to His face and I hear Him say softly,
‘Simon, son of Jonah, do you love me?
A lurch of my heart, and I hear myself say,
‘Yes Lord, you know that I love you.’
‘Tend my sheep.’
I rose unsteadily, Jesus rose too.
The eyes of my companions follow us – moving
From Him to me, and back again.
Silence.
I need to say things to Him ... things on my own to Him ...
He understood.
Side by side, we paced slowly towards the lower shore.
Jesus turned to me and restrained me from going any further;
And in a tone of voice, unlike any used to me or to any of us before, He questioned me again,
‘Do you love me?’
Bereft of all sense, motivation, reason or non-reason,
And knowing that words were never going to be enough to convey,
Describe, share what I then felt for Him – the Word of Life,
And the anguish I felt for myself, I replied,
‘Lord, you know everything ... you know that I love you.’
Silence … no sound at all
Stillness ... the waves are frozen
Suddenly, I hear the dry rapid beating of wings
As a wild dove tumbles out of her nest
In the high rocks behind the village …
I hear Him say
‘Feed my Sheep
Follow me …
Loving me, means loving the world;
Loving me, means nourishing the world;
Loving me, means forgiving the world;
Loving me, means building up the world
Until it becomes
The Kingdom of God.
You need no skills – only love for me,
You need no riches - only love for me,
You need no power – only love for me.’
Open the ears of your heart to hear Him,
Open the eyes of your soul to see Him
Let Him draw you forward
Along the path that He takes you.
Hold fast your gaze on Him
So that you will always recognize Him.
For He will never be far from you ...
You will see Him
You will hear him,
For in Him
Is your life.
Amen.