Third Sunday of Easter C
On the shores of the Sea of Galilee
(which
St. John alternatively calls the Sea of Tiberius),
there
is a small stone church marking the spot
where
today’s gospel story is thought to have unfolded.
It’s
called the Church of the Primacy of Peter.
Inside,
in the middle of the floor, is a natural rock formation
that’s
identified as the mensa Christi—the
“table of Christ”—
believed
to be where the risen Jesus served his apostles
a
breakfast of bread and roasted fish.
In
earlier times, the site was known as the Place of the Coals
in honor of Jesus’ beachside barbecue.
Our
own Deacon Bryan Bashaw and his wife, Johnna,
are
on pilgrimage in the Holy Land right now
and
were visiting this church just the other day.
Outside
that church,
against
the dramatic background of the sea,
stands
a statue depicting the exchange between Jesus and Peter:
Jesus
is standing, with a shepherd’s staff in his hand
while
Peter kneels before him,
receiving
the mandate to tend and feed the Lord’s sheep.
But
as beautiful as this sculpture is,
there’s
something about it that seems a bit backwards to me.
Think
about it: What did Jesus ask Peter?
“Do
you love me?”
When
else do we hear that question asked?
[Get down on one knee before a woman from the
congregation]
And
who, in those cases, usually gets down on one knee:
the
one asking the question, or the one answering it?
It
might sound strange to say so,
but
Jesus is proposing to Simon Peter—
no,
not marriage…
…but
he is seeking a particular relationship with him,
and
an intimate one, at that.
“Simon,
can I be your #1? Will you be
mine?”
And recall the way Jesus has defined love:
And recall the way Jesus has defined love:
first,
in word—“There is no greater love than this:
to
lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (Jn 15:13);
and
then, in deed—“accepting death, even death on a cross” (Phil 2:8).
This
question, this proposal,
isn’t
for a lone fisherman.
That
chapel on the seashore was built
to
commemorate Peter as the first Pope.
Peter
has “primacy”—the first place—as the leader
and
visible point of unity for all who will follow Jesus.
Which implies that he’s never alone.
Peter
stands for us all.
So what Jesus asks Peter,
he's also
asking you and me on bended knee:
“Do
you love me? Do you love me more
than these?”
Have
you ever realized that before?
Because,
just as it is with a marriage proposal,
this
question demands an answer—
and
if you say yes, it’s only the beginning:
the
beginning of a lifelong commitment,
one
that changes everything.
Just
look at Simon Peter.
He
who, standing by another charcoal fire
the night before Jesus died,
the night before Jesus died,
denied
three times even knowing him,
is later
found—after Easter, in the Acts of the Apostles—
rejoicing
to suffer dishonor for the sake of Jesus’ name.
The
same man who gathers his friends
and
goes back to his nets and boat—
the
career and lifestyle he knew before he ever met Jesus—
now
leaves the old Simon behind for good
to
become Peter, the Rock,
upon
which the Church firmly stands.
But
love—true love—does that, doesn’t it?
Falling
in love, being in love,
knowing
that you are loved and loved deeply—
it
makes you do things you once thought were completely crazy;
it
makes you do things you never thought you’d be capable of.
Love
took a backwater fisherman
(and,
apparently, not even a particularly good one, at that,)
and
made him the chief shepherd
to
lead and feed the flock of the Lamb of God.
We’re
here again this Sunday
at the mensa Christi —at the "table of Christ"—
at the mensa Christi
where
the Lord himself is about to feed us—
not
with a breakfast of grilled fish and toast,
but
with his own Sacred Body and Precious Blood.
Although
the menu be different,
at both meals the risen Christ is really and truly present,
and his question—his proposal—remains exactly the same:
“Do
you love me?”
Jesus
awaits your answer.
No comments:
Post a Comment