The Preacher’s Study
Third Sunday of Easter, Year C
D. Jay Koyle
Acts
of the Apostles 9.1-20
Psalm
30
Revelation
5.11-14
John
21.1-19
Preaching
plays a pivotal role in raising the church’s sights and summoning it to the
place where it might be caught up in God’s renewing activity. Since the first
Christian generation, heralds of the good news have given testimony to the risen
Savior set loose from the tomb and raised up as Sovereign of the universe. They
have declared where he is to be found so that others might know his presence
and see with new eyes, hear with new ears, speak with new voices and step into
the new order instigated by his risen life.
Of course, there
is a paradox in this proclamation. For the need to announce where Christ is
present arises in large part from the stark experience of his absence. As one song
sings, “We walk by faith, and not by sight…We may not touch his hands and
side.” Thus, the privileged task belonging to today’s preachers is also our
great challenge. Thankfully, we do not
grapple with it alone. Those who penned the pages of our New Testament faced it,
too, and they engage it head on in today’s lections.
One of the great aims of the Gospel first addressed to the beloved
disciple’s community, the biblical tome popularly called John, is to fuel the belief of those who have not encountered
Christ “in the flesh.” So the Evangelist claims to describe what he has seen
and heard. What is more striking, however, is how the beloved disciple is
portrayed in the account. This disciple comes to believe not because he hears
his name spoken or is given the opportunity to lay eyes and hands on the
crucified One who lives. Rather, he first believes simply on the basis of peering
into an empty tomb. Gazing upon an absence, he believes. “Blessed are those,”
Jesus later announces, “who have not seen and yet believe.”
Chapter 21 is the coda in which this
theme is sounded again. The setting echoes
characters, images and incidents found
elsewhere in Scripture. There are members of the Twelve who have been featured
before: impulsive Peter, concrete Thomas, guileless Nathanael,
and the passionate boys of Zebedee. The
scene is cast in the recurrent Johannine interplay of darkness and light. There
is a miraculous catch of fish resembling the
initial calling of the disciples as
described in Luke. The Eucharistic overtones of a bread and fish breakfast on
the beach resonate with the earlier feedings of multitudes. As happens in other post-Resurrection scenes, we observe devout
individuals who are slow to recognize the risen Christ. Again, it is the
beloved disciple, without seeing him, who first identifies the Lord; he
perceives the risen One on the basis of the haul of fish. It is this and other
familiar signs which bring about the perception that the Christ is in their
midst.
This story about the original witnesses of the Resurrection is
complemented by the dramatic account of Paul’s experience on the Damascus Road.
Paul does not see the risen Christ in the flesh. Rather, he comes to recognize
him in the very people he has been persecuting. He is embraced by Christ, too,
through a man who engages in risky hospitality and confident witness. As a
result, the ministry of one of the gospel’s most insightful and effective
advocates is launched.
The passage
from Revelation provides another
vantage point from which to perceive the risen Christ. This song of praise to the
Lamb is a political act announcing that it is Jesus who reigns, not Caesar, nor
any ruler or system of this world. The hymns of Revelation most likely occur in the middle of oppression. Though
they were part of God’s heavenly kingdom, our first ancestors in the faith
lived, too, in the earthly kingdom of the Roman Empire, which demanded ultimate
allegiance. Thus, they are given a glimpse of all nations, all powers, all
creation joining in their liturgical doxology. Christ remains present and,
through his Passion and Resurrection, now reigns over all things. Revelation provides a lens, then,
through which the tribulations faced by the ancient church could be seen
through the sure and certain promises of God.
Today’s stories, like all those of Easter, reveal what happens to
people when encountering the risen Christ. They are icons of the ways he may be
recognized and responded to today.
The preacher
has a number of options for exclaiming “Look! See!” in the pulpit this Sunday.
The most promising, it seems to me, will be shaped by not only the Scriptures, but
also our experience of the liturgy over the paschal cycle – particularly the
Triduum – and the changed lives within our midst evidenced in the testimony and
celebration of baptism/baptismal renewal and Eucharist.
I
will point to Peter who, upon hearing the announcement of his Lord’s presence, is
immersed in the waters that lead him to the shore of feeding, forgiveness and
commissioning.
I
will lift up Paul, for whom a radical welcome led to illumination, baptism,
feeding, fellowship, and fruitful ministry.
I
will also name, however, the young man who, sitting in the back pew at a
previous year’s Maundy Thursday, watches wide-eyed as the members of the
congregation slip off shoes and socks to share in footwashing. Tears flowing
down his cheeks, it strikes him that the reality of the risen Christ is known
profoundly when one lives a life of service. He begins working with those living
on the streets, his ministry reflected as he is washed and washes feet at the
start of each year’s Triduum since.
I
will name the woman who, as a catechumen, is formed in Christian service by
volunteering with her sponsors and mentors in a long-term care facility.
Witnessing the deplorable conditions there, she takes seriously the prophetic
witness of the scriptures over which she prays and reflects with others week
after week. She rallies her church in a successful initiative lobbying the
state legislature to pass laws requiring better funding and care for the
elderly housed in such institutions. As she emerges from the baptismal waters
after promising to work for justice and to respect the dignity of every person,
the whole congregation knows it has realized its own baptismal identity in a
new and deeper way.
I
will name the heightened joy and courage of the congregation itself, emerging as it has
celebrated its liturgy with the lavish use of symbol and unbridled voice of
praise.
“The
post-resurrection accounts of Jesus are hardly a spiritualized set of
epiphanies, ghost stories, as it were, séances with dim visions into the future
or past,” Peter Gomes once observed. “They are told in the most tangible,
fleshly fashion possible. They are told around food and drink, breakfast on the
beach, supper in the upper room. They…remind us that this other side [of
Easter] is tangible and real, not a ghostly metaphor but something that lives
in living people here and now…” (Peter J. Gomes, Sermons: Biblical Wisdom for Daily Living, William Morrow and
Company, Inc., 84)
The sermons
of the Great Fifty Days should be no less tangible as we preachers declare where
he is to be found so others might recognize signs of Christ’s presence and step
into the new order instigated by his risen life.
Jay Koyle is
a presbyter serving as Congregational Development Officer for the Diocese of
Algoma (Anglican Church of Canada). He is President of The Associated Parishes
for Liturgy and Mission.
“The Miraculous
Catch Of Fish” by Erik Tanghe
Photo of D. Jay
Koyle, by Jesse Dymond
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