153 Fish

Did you ever wonder why the Bible includes some details and omits so many others?  Like those 153 fish, for example …

 153 Fish

John 21:1-19

The Bible is peppered with details that both puzzle us (why was this particular fact included in the text?), and endear us (how human they were!) When Jesus was on the storm-tossed Sea of Galilee, for example, we are told that he had his head on a pillow in the stern.

When Peter peeked into the empty tomb, he saw crumpled up linen. When Jesus healed a blind man, he mixed spittle and dirt to make the healing mud. While there are also other details that we wish were in the Biblical texts, the ones that are present are always intriguing.

Today’s unlikely detail is the careful accounting of the number of fish in the heavy nets that the disciples drew in on the shores of the Sea of Tiberias on that morning so long ago: 153 fish.

After the tumultuous events of the crucifixion and Resurrection, the disciples had gone back to fishing. That’s what we do when the exciting events of our lives come to a close: we return to our everyday activities. And the disciples were fisherman. On that particular night, they were unsuccessful fisherman; they caught nothing. But just at daybreak, someone on the beach called to them and told them to try casting their nets on the other side of their boat.

Now here’s the detail we would like to find in the gospel of John: why didn’t the disciples recognize Jesus? This happens repeatedly in the post-Resurrection stories: Jesus appears to people who have known him well in life, but they do not recognize his Resurrected self until some small personal connection is made. Older translations of the bible use the word “manifested” instead of “showed himself.” I think that somewhat old fashioned term does a better job of describing the situation. Jesus manifested himself, but in some manner that was both initially unfamiliar to those who encountered him.

Even without recognizing him at first, the disciples took his instruction and cast their nets on the right side of the boat, and their nets were filled with heavy fish – yes, 153 of them.

How often have you heard a voice – perhaps not literally with your ears but with that inner sense of being spoken to – how often have you heard a voice encouraging you to stop what you are doing and try something else? That’s the voice that nudges you to offer assistance to someone even if it is a little inconvenient; that’s the voice that encourages you to be generous to charities and causes that matter to you; that’s the voice that prods you into courage that you didn’t know you had. It might be the voice that invites you into a new and satisfying relationship, or the voice that reminds you of your gifts and talents. You might think of it as God’s voice, or as the whisper of the Holy Spirit. One friend of mind just calls it “the universe,” as in, “the universe seems determined to get me interested in this problem.”

Perhaps the real question is not how often we have heard it, but how often we have heeded it? When we hear the person on the shore speaking to us, do we welcome and follow the instructions, or do we hesitate, resist, or refuse?

But the story here is not just about catching fish; it is also about recognizing that presence on the beach, the one with bread on the plate and fish on the fire. It was “disciple whom Jesus loved” who caught on first, and told Peter, “It is the Lord.” With his usual careful deliberation, Peter pulled on some clothes, jumped into the water, and headed for shore. I can’t help but love Peter, with his whole-hearted and impulsive reactions, and here he went again.

The thing I want you to notice about this story, though, is not just what Peter did, but what the other disciples did. And what they did was to bring the boat in, drag up the fish net, and unload the fish – yes, all 153 of them. In other words, while Peter was grandstanding, flailing about and rushing to Jesus’ side, the other guys were left finishing up the work – and remember, going fishing was Peter’s idea in the first place!

One of the members of the bible study group on Tuesday suggested that we have heard this story before – though in a very different context. It was another story in which one person paid attention to Jesus and someone else had to do the work. The story she had in mind, of course, was the story of Mary and Martha, getting ready to have dinner with Jesus. Martha, you will remember, was in the kitchen getting ready, while Mary sat at the feet of Jesus to listen to him. Martha scolded her sister, and tried to get Jesus to do the same. Instead, he praised Mary for “choosing the better part.”

It is not too much of a stretch, I think, to imagine that Peter leapt into the water with the same determination to be with Jesus that Mary of Bethany showed. And Martha – like those other fisherman – was left with the rest of the work.

It is easy to conclude that Jesus honors the people who drop everything to listen to him – and that may be true. But in the larger picture, the Christian life requires both the people who drop everything when they catch a glimpse of Jesus, and the people who keep on doing the work, even when Jesus is serving fish and bread on the beach. Certainly every Christian community needs leaders who are spiritually grounded and faithful, on the one hand, and, at the same time, also needs leaders who competent and persistent in moving the church where it wants to go. Some people need to jump into the ocean in excitement and anticipation, but others need to stay behind, get the boat into the harbor, and count the fish.

It is not hard, I think, to put ourselves into this part of the story, too. Some of us are Peter and Mary, drawn to worship and contemplation and devotion. We show our love with our focus and our joy. Some of us are Martha and the other fisherman, drawn to action and function and effectiveness. We show our love with our labor and our productivity. All of us have moments when we shift from one stance to other: Peter and Mary are inspired to work on behalf of their faith, while Martha and the fisherman are moved to sit quietly and listen. A full and faithful life invites us to explore and experience both of these.

But there is more to this story than these two mini-sermons: listen for God’s nudging, and honor both the workers and the contemplatives. There is more, because the person on the beach is not a fisheries consultant or a spiritual director, but Jesus, risen from the dead. All of what happens, happens in the presence of this great mystery – as great a mystery to us as it was to those first disciples.

Each time we recite our Congregation’s covenant together, we say this:

We covenant together, with God and one another, trusting in God’s continuing guidance,

to seek to understand and do God’s will, to explore the mystery of Christ, and to witness to God’s reconciling love.

And here is where our exploration takes us this morning: to a place where Christ’s voice invites us to live our lives differently – to fish on the other side of the boat. And to a place where spiritual initiative and practical initiative are valued and held in permanent tension – where the impulses of worship and attention are engaged in community with action and effectiveness. We are taken to the place where everything is just as it has always been, and at the same time, everything looks different in the new light of the Resurrection.

But the 153 fish are not just in the biblical text so that we know that Jesus was a good fisherman, nor are they there just so that we know the disciples followed his advice. The 153 fish end up as part of a feast on the beach, a feast of bread and fish. If today were a Communion Sunday, I would have asked the Deacons to feed us walleye or tuna along with our bread and rice cakes, because the breakfast on the beach is just as sacred and blessed as the meal in the upper room or the meal on the road to Emmaus, or the meals that you eat with your family every day. The 153 fish remind us of the divine extravagance that graciously feeds us again and again – even when we are weary, even when we are confused or discouraged, even when our own fishing seems futile. So I am grateful to John the evangelist for remembering to tell us that on that particular morning, the disciples caught 153 fish.