Back in 30 A.D., the time of this story, Tiberias was emperor of Rome.  So everything was called Tiberias, after the Caesar.  Kind of like Lewis and Clark around here.  Lake Tiberias.  Don't be fooled.  It's the Sea of Galilee.

Good fishing back then.  As today.  The principal catch was a Cichlid (sik'lid), a sunfish look-a-like known today as "St. Peter's fish."   But not then.  No fish was named after Peter at this time.

The disciples made their living catching Cichlid. But these are not good days for Peter and the disciples.  They fish all night and nab nary a nibble.  The disciples are discouraged, defeated, depressed, deep down from their Easter high. All night.  No fish.  No luck. It is sunrise, brothers and sisters.  Welcome aboard.

As the sun's rays begin to break over the eastern horizon of the Sea of Galilee, which is the Golan Heights, by the way, there is a stranger standing on the shoreline, who asks the fishermen, what else does one ask fishermen, (yell) "Catch anything?"

The disciples respond, how else do fishermen respond to the one ques­tion always asked, "Catch anything?"  The disciples respond like any self-respecting fisherman,  "Nope, nothing at all."

Why I've known fishermen who have caught enough fish to keep a cannery going, "Nope, not much happening."  Only this time the disciples are telling the truth. They've caught nothing.  Nada.  Zero.  Zippo.  Skunked.

So the stranger, whoever he is, says to the disciples,  "Cast your net out on the other side of the boat, and you will catch some fish."  Oh, really?  Who does this guy think he is?  Peter, and his fellow disciples, are fishermen. Their fathers were fishermen.  Their father's fathers were fishermen.  True, things haven't been going too well lately, but they do know fishing.  That's the one thing they do know.  So why in the world would they listen to a carpenter?

Nevertheless, when your life is cast adrift, and even the one thing you know how to do is not going well, when you've been out fishing all night, and have nary a nibble, and it is cold and you are hungry, you might be inclined, in this desperate disciple-state, to take the advice of a stranger on the shore.  Even peevish Peter.

So the disciples do as the stranger suggests.  Advice I am sure they would have rejected on the front side of Easter.  But it strikes me that sometimes we listen better, are more in touch with the still small voice within, are more recep­tive to suggestions from without, when our pride is deflated, our self-confidence is sinking,  and we are feeling down, looking up at life.

Which is to say, sometimes the tomb is necessary to turn things around.  So, hang in there.  The disciples turn it around.  The boat, that is.  They turn the boat around, as the stranger suggests, and cast their net on the other, where they catch so many fish they cannot even pull in the net.  153 whoppers in all, if you are keeping count, and what fishermen doesn't keep count, at least when it is going well.

153.  By the way, be suspicious when the Bible gives you specific numbers like this.  And indeed, 153 is the number of different species of fish the ancient world believed to be in existence.  So the disciples caught one of every kind of fish there was, an allegory to their "fisher of men" commissioning to follow, but that's getting ahead of our story.

The disciple whom Jesus loves most, who is the disciple John, at least this is how the Gospel of John tells the story, the disciple whom Jesus loves most recognizes the stranger now amidst the catch of the day, and says to Peter, who would be slower to recognize the strang­er, "It is the Lord!"

Not dead and disappeared, not arisen and ascended, but present!  Here!  Again!  Still with us!  For the third time, it is the Risen Lord!  Impetuous Peter, never a leader in his sensitivity group, but always first to leap into action, bolts from the boat, and rushes ashore to greet the Lord.

The other disciples dutifully dock the boat and once gathered upon the beach, Jesus says to them­, "Come and eat." "Come and eat."  Having hours ago run out of beer and chips, chilled and hungry, the Lord says to the disciples, "Come and eat."  He even has a fire going.  How inviting!  How comforting!

So it is on the sunrise shoreline of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus breaks bread and fries fish for his faithful followers, serving them holy communion one more time for the last time. 

It has got to taste mighty good to the diminished disciples.  Together again, fed by Jesus, whose presence reassures them, to steal a line from another Resurrection appearance on a hillside in Galilee, "And, lo, I will be with you always, to the end of the age."  From Matthew's "Great Commission."   (Matthew 28:20)

To linger a little longer on the beach here, there are really two parts to John's third Resurrection story. We can call the first part "the kettle of fish."  Big kettle, indeed, 153 fish in all.  A whopper of a tale.  Good for every fish in the sea.

We might call part two "the charcoal fire."  When the disciples debark and join Jesus on the beach, the Lord is standing alongside a "charcoal fire." You are not to miss the detail.  This is no ordinary, driftwood fire.  This is a charcoal fire.

The last time we read about a charcoal fire in the Gospel of John, it was outside the palace of Caiaphas, the high priest of Jerusalem, where Jesus was being questioned.  The temple guards were standing around a charcoal fire warming themselves from the chilly midnight air.  Peter was lurking nearby, seeking warmth as well, having followed the guards and Jesus to this first unfriendly Friday stop.  The fire sheds warmth, but light as well, and the guards spy Peter standing there.  A woman among them recognizes Peter, saying, "Aren't you one of Jesus' disciples?" Peter says, "No."  Three times they ask Peter,  huddled around the charcoal fire in the courtyard,  "Aren't you one of Jesus' disciples?"  Three times Peter denies knowing Jesus.  Cocka-doodle-do.

I tell you, Peter, having run through the shallow waters and rushed to the shoreline, would have stopped short at seeing Jesus standing upon the beach alongside a "charcoal" fire.  He would have sunk like a rock into the Sea of Galilee.  Good news, Jesus is here.  Bad news, Jesus remembers.

Jesus says nothing, except "Come and eat."

When they had finished their fish fry, Jesus turns to Peter and asks, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?"  Jesus, using Peter's formal name, "Simon, son of John."  Kid of like when my mother would say to me, "James Garen!" 

"Simon, son of John."   The last time Jesus used this formal address with Peter was the first time they met, way back in John chapter one, when Simon Peter was called to be Jesus' disciple.  Jesus had invited Andrew, Peter's brother, and another unnamed disciple, would you believe, to "Come and see." 

They went and saw, along with Simon Peter, who upon meeting Jesus was addressed by the Lord, "You are Simon, son of John, who henceforth shall be called Peter" (John 1:42), which means "the rock."  Peter, the rock upon which the church will be built.

The rock turned to sand around the charcoal fire in the courtyard of Caiaphas' castle, with dungeon down below where Jesus is held. We visited there. Now Peter is around a charcoal fire again, standing on the sandy beaches of Galilee.  And Jesus is risen.

Peter answers, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."  The Lord replies, "Feed my lambs."

A second time Jesus asks, "Simon , son of John, do you love me?"  "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."   "Then tend my ship."

A third time the Lord asks of Peter, Petra, the "rock" in Greek, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?"  And for a third time Peter confesses, "Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you."  "Then feed my sheep."

Three times Peter denied the earthly Jesus around a charcoal fire.  Three times the risen Lord forgives Peter around a charcoal fire.  What is happening here?  Forgiveness is happening here.  New life is happening here.  "Good news" is happening here.  "Feed my sheep" means Peter, formerly Simon, son of John, you have your life back and you have your commission back, "Feed my sheep."  Become who you were called to be, the rock upon whom I will build my church.

Forgiveness, the most frequent message of the risen Lord, forgiving the disciples their denial, their betrayal, their abandonment, and calling them to go forth and forgive others.  "Feed my lambs, tend my sheep" with all my love, which begins with forgiveness, right there on the beaches of Galilee, in part two, "the charcoal fire."

Needless to say, the disciples never fish the same again.  They are transformed by this communion.  No longer failed fishermen, they are robust ranchers.  No longer fearful followers, they are outrageous apostles.  No longer lost sheep, they are good shepherds,

serving the Lord, casting Christ to every fish in the sea, to every nation and every race to the ends of the earth.

The rest is history, which we can read about in the book called the Acts of the Apostles, as we have been in Bible study the past couple of weeks.  It is an awesome story.  Well, Easter 2007 is history for us.  We are down the road from the Resurrection.  What are we to do as we reluctantly return to the regular routines of life?

Are you kidding me?  Wake up!  It is springtime.  Yes, Easter has come and gone, but never to be the same again.  Never again the same.  The Lord is here, shaping our faith, calling us forth, asking us, "Do you love me?"  If the answer is "yes,"  then we are called to "feed God's sheep." 

We are commissioned to serve the world in bold, courageous ways in the Spirit of Christ.  To not take the Blacksburgs or Baghdads as the final word, but to recognize the Lord of life among us with all the more passion and to serve the Lord with all the compassion, from shoreline to shoreline.

Which means, there is no way we can be skunked upon the seas life.  For Easter is a done deal - it is sealed.  And it cannot be taken away.  The Lord is with us, now and forever. 

So wherever we go, Easter will carry the day, and wherever we go, Easter will carry the night, for "lo, (the Lord) will be with you always, to the end of the age." So take Easter and run with it.

AMEN.