Acts 9.1-6 and John 21.1-19
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord our strength and our redeemer. Amen.
There was a spirit of excited anticipation about the younger members of my household this morning as they remembered that, after the morning services, we would be breaking into the next family chocolate Easter egg.
And the reason we will be doing so is not because we suddenly found an egg at the back of the cupboard that we’d forgotten to consume, but because we are intentionally still celebrating Easter and all the joy and hope that it brings.
Because Easter, of course, is not just a day to be rejoiced in, but a season – a celebration that engages us right up until the 8th of June, the feast of Pentecost – and in many ways, beyond it.
But here’s the thing – we’re not called just to celebrate Easter in these joyful weeks, we’re called to participate in it too.
Think about that for a moment – we’re not just called to celebrate Easter, but to participate in it.
That’s what all those marvellous people were doing at 5am on Easter morning as they came to be baptised and confirmed. They were participating in Easter.
And we are to do likewise.
Otherwise Jesus is freed of his grave clothes but we are not. We’re saying alleluias, but not being alleluias. We’re believing in the resurrection, but not living it.
To participate means to orientate ourselves differently.
It’s so easy to cheerfully celebrate Easter Sunday and then return to the same old life and carry on as usual. But we’re not called to that. It may be the same old life, but how we live it, how we experience it, how we respond to it, should be so very different. We’re invited, encouraged, to let it be different.
That’s certainly the discovery Peter and the other disciples were making in the gospel reading we heard just a few minutes ago.
Peter has seen the empty tomb. He and many of the others had seen the risen Jesus, appearing to them in the upper room where they were hiding away, doors locked, afraid and unsure. The transforming wonder of the resurrection was clear to them. But they had simply gone back to what was known – to their old lives – without allowing themselves inhabit these familiar ways differently, without being changed by the resurrection.
And so we find them fishing, just as they used to - doing today the same old thing in the same old way as they’ve always done. And the nets of their lives are empty.
“That night”, we are told, “they caught nothing”.
And so Jesus shows them a different way to be – what participation in Easter really means. “Cast the net to the right side of the boat” he says – keep doing what you’ve always done, but do it differently.
What would that look like for you and I, I wonder?
To live our usual lives differently in light of the resurrection?
I wonder how it might change our relationships, our priorities, our way of being with others? Would we be, perhaps, more generous, more forgiving, more loving?
I wonder what new opportunities it would it reveal?
Perhaps we might reclaim ourselves and the life we most deeply desire?
I wonder if we may discover a new depth and meaning – and find the nets of our lives full to abundance.
Peter and the disciples had to make a shift to participate in Easter. The moving of their nets from one side of the boat to another doesn’t sound earth-shattering, but it was symbolic of the shifting of their perspective, their engagement.
It was as if the stone was rolled away from the tombs of fear they had created, and they were finally finding the courage not just to stay within them, but to stand up and walk out.
To participate in life in all its fullness.
On the surface they may have seemed as they were, fishermen going about their daily business. But they weren’t. Because that daily business was suddenly infused with divinity, with hope, with the light of the resurrection.
And so can our lives be also.
But we too have to make the shift. To throw off our grave clothes, all that binds us and diminishes us, and step out into the light.
Easter may not change the fundamental landscape of our lives - we will still engage with the same people, go to the same places, have the same routines and commitments –
but Easter can change how we inhabit that landscape, how we participate in that landscape – if we let it.
For the disciples in today’s gospel reading understanding about all of this seemed to dawn as they gathered for breakfast around the fire on the shore of the lake - and there Jesus broke bread and shared it with them.
In a few moments we will gather together around the altar and bread will be broken and shared with us in the same spirit and in the same light.
May we there meet the risen Christ afresh, and in our joy and wonder return to our daily routines changed, transformed, as we participate in the wonder of the resurrection life.
Amen.