Temptation #4

Sometimes it feels better, more comfortable, to avoid the looming mission that we have been given: to be Christ's ambassadors to the world and to do the work of God.

Simon Peter said to them, "I'm getting out of here. I'm going fishing." (John 21:3). This, on the heels of seeing Jesus in the upper room after the crucifixion. As the confused and saddened disciples wept and tried to plan what to do next, Jesus appeared to them. Thomas, the doubting one, demanded that Jesus prove his identity. He touched the scars on Jesus' hands, feet, and side. Jesus had indeed risen. What He had said was true--He was the perfect sacrifice and was now alive once again. So it would be a spiritual kingdom, after all. Jesus life was all about atonement and reconciliation to God, not overthrowing the Romans. Now He would soon ascend back into heaven and leave the disciples for good.

It must have been too much for Peter to take in. He had gone from denying Christ, to weeping his heart out, to the shocking revelation of Christ in the flesh. Overwhelmed, he fell back to the thing that gave him the most comfort and that was a sure thing, before Jesus had turned his world upside down. A fisherman, he climbed into a boat with other disciples and put out into the sea.
Scrambling about on a fishing boat over undulating waves, was soothing in its predictability and familiarity. Put out the nets, wait until they fill with fish and pull it into the boat. After months of trying to figure out how he was to follow Christ, how he was to conduct himself and what all Christ's stories and instruction meant, I imagine that it was wonderful to go back to the sea. He was a master at his work here. There were no questions about how to respond to crowds, no anxiety about what to do with the conniving Pharisees and endless people who tried to trick Jesus. He would go back and pretend that the previous three years hadn't even happened.

His lack of education made no difference now, as he rode out the waves and felt the spray on his body. He was free from the city life he had never quite gotten used to. It had been hard to move from place to place. His father had fished on these waters, and so had he. This was home to him, not all those far flung cities he had visited with Jesus.

Yes, he adored Jesus and had never felt so good ever, anywhere, as he had when he was walking along the dusty roads next to this Man who had befriended him. But right now, it all felt like just too much. Like all of us who are overwhelmed, he went home--to the sea.

Suddenly, there was Jesus, calling out to the disciples from shore. "Have you caught anything?" No. "Try on the other side of the boat." What? Through the fog they couldn't see who had made this suggestion that seemed to trivialize their efforts. There was nothing to show for being cold and wet all night long. Had they lost their skills? What were they missing? Why, when other fishermen were making large hauls, had they caught nothing? Why not? Minutes later, as his companions hauled in the enormous catch, Peter flung himself into the lake and swam to shore. It was Jesus, who had built a fire and was waiting to cook them breakfast.

"Do you love me, Peter?" Yes Jesus. You saw how fast I got to you when I realized you were here. Nothing could keep me from you, not even our fish. The fish that will pay for our home and families' needs. I would have been happy to lose it all in the water, just to get to you.
"Then feed my lambs." My lambs are the ones who know of me and are left without a Shepherd, now that I am going back to my Father.

Oh. That. Plunge back into an itinerant lifestyle, rubbing shoulders with the arrogant Jewish leaders, who will probably be out for my neck. I could probably do it for awhile.

Jesus sat back, watching His beloved friends eating breakfast, wishing that He could somehow impress on them how much He loved them. Only His eyes could say it.
Peter saw Jesus looking deeply into him.
"Do you love me, Peter?"
Oh no. He thinks that I don't love Him because I disassociated myself when it got hot back there in Pilate's hall. He turned and looked straight at me and saw into my heart. He knows how scared I was. How could I have ever abandoned this, my Friend? And he remembered the agony spilt in his tears when he had rushed from Pilate's hall into the embracing darkness.

Jesus was still looking at him with those warm, knowing eyes.
"Oh yes, I do love You."
"Feed my sheep."
Those eyes. That face. We've been through so much together. He still loves me. So much that I can't say no to Him. If I could just remember this moment, I could probably do anything, even if it means going back to the crowded city life that I'm weary of.

Jesus motioned for Peter to follow. They began walking down the beach, in the moist strip where the water met the sand. Just the two of them, slowly walking close together, feeling that this was perhaps the last time.
"Peter." They stopped next to Peter's fishing boat, where the net, bulging with fish, spilled out onto the sand. Jesus stood, looking at him again: deeply, warmly, earnestly. Jesus stooped and picked up a wet fish, its gaping eyes and mouth in an expression of perpetual surprise. "Do you love me more than these? Do you love me more than the comfort of the familiar? Do you love me enough to leave the predictability and tangible gains of your livelihood? Do you love me more than these fish, these fishermen, these lakes?"

But this is where I'm the happiest. This is where I am the most genuine--the most authentic self that I can be. This comes to me the easiest--it's what my father and his father, and his father have done all their lives. It's my life. I like doing this. It's who I am. Leave this?

Peter was grieved at this line of questioning. He has always loved Jesus, even though he didn't feel cut out for a life of stringent discipleship. And yet, here was Jesus, calling him back into that unpredictable life of service, sacrifice, leadership, and eventually, martyrdom. There is just no way I can live as though Jesus didn't walk into my life. He called me once and He's calling me again. He must feel that I can do this.
"Peter, do you love me more than these?"
Peter looked at Jesus boldly then, and for a long time. If I can just remember His face as it is right now.
"You know everything. My heart: my wants, my acts, my weaknesses and fears. You know it all. You know that I love you."
"Feed my sheep. When you were young, you dressed yourself and walked wherever you wanted. But when you are gold, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will carry you where you don't want to go." (John 21:18).

That face. Those eyes. He loved me then and He loves me still. I can do anything if His face is always before me. Peter would not say no to the One whose love warmed and comforted his soul. He would go back to the city.
Jesus, smiling, said, "Follow me again, Peter."
And Peter did. All the way to a cross of his own.