Peter's story (part 2)
recorded by Barry Jackson
(scroll down for some questions for reflection at the end of the story)
I’ve shared before how Jesus re-instated me as an apostle.
Hah… looking back, he had to do that again and again throughout my time with him. I would jump in with both feet and fail, and then he’d pick me up, let me know that I was loved and forgiven, and show that he still believed in me. But that occasion by the Sea of Galilee, when he told me again to follow him, that was the most significant. It seemed to me that I’d fallen way further than before and was beyond redemption, but he saw more in me than I did in myself; he saw more of what I could become. And he wasn’t only like that with me; he was like that with everyone.
That breakfast by the charcoal fire on the beach was an incredible time of renewal for me. I remember being so inspired and hopeful again for the future. To be clear, I still didn’t understand what was going on; I had no idea how things were going to work out. But I didn’t need to know. I trusted him, and he believed in me, and that was enough.
After our talk on the beach, we re-joined the others by the fire. Jesus told us to find the other four apostles and gather on a mountain near Capernaum in seven days’ time. Then just like had happened before, he smiled, winked and disappeared. For me, that was one of the strangest parts of his resurrection appearances. It was like he lived in a different reality to the rest of us, and he stepped in and out of our reality like we would step in and out of a room! It was always a shock when he appeared, but even more disconcerting when he went… it left us at a loss as to what to do next.
But this time was different. The other appearances had always caught us by surprise, we hadn’t known he was coming, but for the first time, he’d told us where we would see him next. This was something new, and over the coming days, my sense of excitement and anticipation grew.
We split up into smaller groups to find the other four apostles and arranged to meet back in Capernaum in five days’ time. That might seem like a difficult task, but Galilee is not a massive place. We knew the towns and villages where they lived, and they were well-known in their communities. As it turned out, our job was made easier because Jesus had appeared to them too (either physically, or in a dream) and told them to be ready to join us.
Five days later, on the evening before the Sabbath, we gathered at my house in Capernaum. They each shared their stories of how Jesus had appeared to them, and we shared about the miraculous catch of fish and the breakfast meeting. I kept quiet about my conversation with Jesus and was grateful that John didn’t share any of it. I was sure he’d overheard what Jesus had said to me, and when I played that conversation over in my head, I was relieved that Jesus hadn’t said anything specific about me denying him. It was one thing knowing that Jesus knew about and forgave my sins, but I didn’t want the others to know of my failure that night in the High Priest’s courtyard.
We talked until late into the night and continued talking throughout the next day, the Sabbath. We shared memories of our times with Jesus and wondered what he would say when we met with him the next day. There was an incredible excitement at the prospect of seeing Jesus again. We had a sense that the previous appearances had been about picking us up… but this was going to be about something new.
We set off early in the morning. It was the first day of the week, the sky was a clear blue, a gentle breeze was blowing… it felt like a day of new beginnings. As we gained altitude, we could see all the way to the southern tip of the Sea of Galilee, the surrounding mountains framing it in various hues of green and brown that faded to grey in the distance.
I could make out the many towns and villages we’d visited with Jesus, and I recalled the many times we’d crisscrossed that sea during his ministry.
I looked towards the others, who were slightly ahead of me. Thomas and John were at the head of the group, and were deep in conversation, the others were walking in groups of two or three chatting excitedly. I walked on my own at the back, enjoying a bit of space and silence after the lengthy conversations of these last 2 days.
As we gained height, my head filled with memories of the last time we’d been on that hill. Three years ago, Jesus had taught from a spot on this mountain. Sitting on a rock, high enough so that his words would carry to us and to the crowds that were there.
He’d given us a new vision of God’s Kingdom, a new understanding that all were invited; where the spiritually bankrupt, the broken, the grieving, the messed up, the hopeful, the zealous, the frustrated, the do-gooders, and more… were all invited… all invited. He made it clear that God’s Kingdom wasn’t reserved for the overly righteous Pharisees and their like; it was open to all of us. There was so much of what he taught that I didn’t understand at the time, but that part stuck; we were all included in God’s Kingdom… even a messed up simple fisherman like myself.
That line of thought got me reflecting on those many times I’d messed up as I’d tried to follow him. Some of them made me chuckle… but some of them made me cringe and burn with shame.
Suddenly the sense of eager anticipation I’d had when we started this walk became tinged with anxiety. The elation I’d felt when we’d spoken on the beach, when he’d re-affirmed his belief in me, became a little clouded by self-doubt. What if I failed him again? If he was going to use this meeting to announce the coming of the kingdom, and to assign tasks to us all, what if I got things wrong? I’d messed up so often in the past, what if I couldn’t do what he asked me to do?
We’d reached a place where the path opened out, and Thomas and John had stopped to let us all catch up. It was as I joined the group that suddenly Jesus was there with us.
Thomas and John immediately fell to their knees in worship, the others followed suit, some later than others and me last of all. I sort of understood that Jesus was God with us, I just didn’t understand how. I wasn’t the brightest scholar in the synagogue, but I knew worship was reserved for God… but this was a man… a man that I’d been following for three years. A brilliant and gifted man, that obviously had God with him, a man who was the best friend I’d ever had… but still a man…so worship seemed strange. After Pentecost, I appreciated more of how he was God with us, but at that moment, like with so many other things, I didn’t understand.
Jesus was completely at ease with the worship, but equally at ease as he invited us to sit with him and have some breakfast. I’d not eaten before we left, and I hadn’t thought to bring anything… I was just too nervous. John had brought a little food, and that was always enough with Jesus there.
Jesus took what John had brought, gave thanks, blessed and broke the bread, and shared it among us.
The others chatted with Jesus as we ate. For once in my life, I stayed silent, listening carefully. I’d said or done the wrong thing too often in the past, so I reckoned if I was silent, then I couldn’t go wrong. I joined in the laughter when Jesus or one of the others made a joke, but that was it. Once or twice I went to add a comment to a topic of conversation, but I caught myself in time and swallowed the words.
As we finished the meal, Jesus said, ‘Now I have a new task for you.’
Everyone fell silent, sat up and strained forward eagerly. My excitement and apprehension grew in equal measure as Jesus paused before he spoke again.
‘Previously, I sent you to the people of Israel, to proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God, but now I am sending you to the whole world… to all nations.’ He paused to allow his words to sink in. There were gasps from a couple of the others, but I held my breath, for I was sure there was something more to come… and there was.
‘Previously I sent you to heal the sick, cast out demons and bring God’s peace to people, but now I’m sending you to make disciples like yourselves. As you go, I want you to immerse people in the love of God, in the presence of the Father, and of myself, and of the Holy Spirit (whom the Father will send), and I want you to teach them to follow, in the way that I’ve taught you. You will be my witnesses in all the world.’
Now there was only fear, as my mind ran in circles over what he’d said.
Witness!
Teach!
The whole world!
How could I witness for him when I’d run away at the first sign of trouble? How could I teach when I barely understood things myself? How could I take a message out to anywhere in Israel, let alone the whole world?
All I could think was, the authorities would stop us… the Romans and the Jewish leadership would hunt us down… they’d kill us, just as they had him… how could this possibly work… people didn’t listen when we spoke… we were just fishermen… we had no education… no authority…
I suddenly realised that my lungs were screaming for air. I’d been holding my breath the whole time. I drew in a huge breath, looked around, and realised that the others had all stood up. I quickly stood up too.
Jesus looked at me and held my gaze for a moment. I’d been around him long enough to know that he was looking into my heart, and that he saw all the mess of doubt and fear that was there. He smiled gently, as ever with Jesus there was no condemnation, just love.
‘Know this,’ he said, slowly and deliberately, never breaking eye contact with me, ‘All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Don’t fear earthly authorities, I will be with you always and you will know what to say at the right time. All authority is mine, and I will be with you till the end of the age.’
I suddenly remembered a story from Exodus, where Moses was full of doubt about the mission he was being sent on. God promised to be with him always, and he was! And Moses had done what seemed impossible! If Jesus was with us, then maybe, just maybe, we could do what he was asking. I felt my fear subsiding.
Jesus told us to return to Jerusalem, to follow the route we’d taken when we went there with him a few months previously. He told us that he’d meet us again on the Mount of Olives in four days’ time.
Then as suddenly as he’d appeared, he was gone.
We stood there in silence… so much had happened in this place… and now this.
For a long time, no-one moved, then John spoke up, ‘We’d better get a move on. It’s a good three to four days walk to Jerusalem from here.’
Thoughts/questions for reflection:
1. How did this story make you feel?
2. Were there things in the story that jarred, or resonated with you? Why is that?
Even though Peter is reinstated, he isn’t suddenly changed. Discipleship is about ongoing transformation, about becoming who God calls us to be, and Peter is only just adjusting to the idea that Jesus still believes in him.
3. Why do you think that people too easily focus on their own inadequacy… rather than God’s strength; on their failings rather than God’s grace?
When Peter goes into a tailspin and can’t imagine how they will do all that they are being asked to do, Jesus promises to be with them always.
4. Have you experienced challenging times when you’ve felt God with you? What about similarly difficult times when he seemed absent?
What does this mean about Jesus’ promise to ‘be with us always’?
This new task is an impossibly massive step up from what Jesus had asked them to do before.
5. If you were one of the disciples on the mountain, how would you feel when Jesus asked this of you?
6. How does it feel when you remember that he still asks this of all his followers today?
Sometimes we feel overwhelmed by the challenges we face and the impossibility of what lies before us. Sometimes we all doubt our abilities and our calling. That might be where you are now, or it might have been at some previous time in your life. It might be in connection with church ministry, or with your job, or in being (or not being) a parent, or something else.
When doubts like this arise, it helps to pause, give them to God, and remember that we don’t have to fix the world; we only need God’s help to do the next right thing (as Anna says in Frozen II).
It also helps to take a long view of God’s project in the world; we don’t have to do everything. There is a wonderful homily written by Bishop Ken Untener[1], that helps to capture that perspective:
It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is even beyond our vision.We accomplish in our lifetime
only a tiny fraction
of the magnificent enterprise
that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete,
which is another way of saying
that the Kingdom always lies beyond us.No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No programme
accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives
includes everything.That is what we are about.
We plant a seed that will one day grow.
We water seeds already planted,
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations
that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects
far beyond our capabilities.We cannot do everything,
and there is a sense of liberation
in realising that.
This enables us to do something,
and to do it very well.It may be incomplete,
but it is a beginning,
a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace
to enter and do the rest.We may never see the end results,
but that is the difference
between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders,
ministers, not messiahs.We are prophets of a future not our own.
A prayer to finish:
Loving Father, God with us.
Whenever we feel overwhelmed by the challenges we are facing,
Help us to remember that 2000 years ago you trusted a group of frightened and uneducated fishermen to take a message of hope to the world… and they did it.
By your grace, they did it.
Help us to remember that because of their willingness to do the impossible our world has been, and is being, transformed.
And help us to remember that you believe in us, and you call us to follow your son.
And as we go… as we step out today, and tomorrow, and the day after that, help us to know that Jesus is with us… always… to the end of the age.
Amen
Ignatian imaginative contemplation on this passage
As before, the background and the story provide a window to help look at the passage imaginatively for yourself. If you want to go deeper:
Ask God to speak to you through the passage
Slowly read the Bible passage again
Visualise yourself as one of the characters, or as an observer. You might work through the whole passage, or sit with a certain scene within it.
Pay attention to the details of the scene; what do you see, hear and smell?
Notice what you feel as you immerse yourself in the passage?Again, ask God what he wants you to take away from this.
You might like to note any thoughts or feelings in a journal before moving on to the next chapter.
[1] Drafted by Bishop Ken Untener of Saginaw for a homily by Cardinal John Dearden in November 1979 for a celebration of departed priests
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