Well-Trodden Paths

Text: John 21:1-19

In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

            We might think that it is, but it’s not always easy to know when it’s the Lord we’re dealing with. When Jacob wrestled with the man by the Jabbok River, it became clear to him that this was no mere mortal with whom he was striving. But he couldn’t tell if it was God or the devil, so he asks the combatant’s name. When Moses saw the burning bush and he was instructed to go stand before Pharaoh with the audacious demand to let Israel go, he had to ask who it was that was sending him on such a potential suicide mission. When the children of Israel had crossed into the Promised Land after their long Exodus, their new leader Joshua saw a man standing before him with a sword drawn. Joshua had to ask, “Are you for us or for our adversaries?” And even in the New Testament, Mary Magdalene saw the resurrected Jesus standing right in front of her outside the empty tomb on Easter morning, yet she did not recognize Him and supposed Him to be the gardener. In our Epistle reading today, as Saul (soon to be Paul) was going down the road to Damascus, a light from heaven shone down around him and after he’d fallen to the ground he had to ask, “Who are you, Lord?” And it happened again in our Gospel reading. Seven of Jesus’ disciples were fishing through the night. When morning came, their Lord and Teacher, with whom they had spent years day in and day out, spoke to them, but they did not recognize Him.

            It’s not always easy to know if it’s the Lord we’re dealing with or someone else. Our senses have trouble telling us whether it’s God or a mere mortal who’s the source of our trials. Our consciences can’t recognize whether it’s the Lord or our own thoughts and fears that weigh on us. Our presuppositions and expectations of what God should be like cause us to wonder if it’s the good God of all creation, or something malicious and evil that’s chasing and challenging us. We think we know how God should be—what He should like, what He should want, what He should be doing for us—and when He doesn’t fit that, we wonder if it’s really Him who’s in control of the situation or not. Our fallen nature and sinful presumptions keep us from seeing Him for who He really is.

            Blessedly, Jesus does not leave His people wondering. He tells His servants of old exactly who He is. “I AM who I AM,” He tells Moses at the burning bush, revealing His name. “I am the commander of the army of the Lord,” He tells Joshua. He calls Mary Magdalene by name so that she can recognize the Teacher who spoke to her so many times. He tells Paul, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting.” And He does something similar for His seven disciples in our Gospel reading today. Jesus shows His disciples that it really is Him by following the same known patterns and ways that He’s used all along with them.

            When the disciples had spent all night fishing and caught nothing, as day was breaking, Jesus called to them from the shore, “Children, do you have any fish?” They didn’t recognize this man who was shouting to them from the land, so they simply answered, “No.” But then Jesus tells them to let down their nets on the right side of the boat and they’ll find some fish. They do it and they catch so many fish that they can’t even pull the nets back into the boats. If this sounds familiar, it’s because it’s very similar to a miracle Jesus performed earlier. In February of this year, we heard about Jesus telling the fishermen—some of them the very same men who are back in the boats today—to cast their nets into the deep after a night of catching nothing, and they caught so many fish that the nets were breaking. This was the miracle that marked the beginning of Peter’s time as a disciple of Jesus, as Jesus told him, “From now on you will be catching men.”

            This repeated miracle of an extraordinary catch of fish first happened just before Peter was called as an Apostle. It happens again here as Peter is reinstated as an Apostle after his denial the night Jesus was betrayed. He had three denials that night; now He’s given three opportunities to tell his Lord that he loves Him. Three denials, three questions, three opportunities to confess his Lord. For that matter, this is the third time that Jesus shows Himself to His Apostles after His resurrection. Even more, they catch 153 fish, which is a factor of three (it’s 3 times 51 for those keeping track). He’s working in that same pattern of three—a number God seems to love using and works with repeatedly. He’s doing the same miracle, with the catch of fish, showing He’s God even over the deep and mysterious waters, working in familiar patterns He’s revealed before, treading down known paths where He’s led them and revealed Himself to them before so that they can know that it really is Him; that He really is still ruling over every facet of creation for their good.

            Our Lord still works in the same, well-trodden ways. We may wonder where He is or why we’re undergoing trials. We may question if He’s really in control of it all. Something happens—a downturn, a fearful diagnosis, a frustration that won’t go away, a cross we’re stuck bearing—and we wonder if God is in it at all. But He has His well-known ways and tells us the places to look for Him. He reminds us of our Baptism, standing on the shores of that forgiving sea, as we just witnessed this morning with the baptism of Elijah, where He made His one-time enemy Saul into His Apostle Paul, where our Lord tells us He is with us to the end of the age and that we are His forever, co-heirs of His everlasting life. He speaks His Word from the lectern and pulpit, in our devotions and time reading Scripture, where His same promise to never leave us or forsake us rings clear again. He’s with us in the Lord’s Supper, strengthening our faith and forgiving our doubts and sinful fears, nourishing our faith with grace and peace.

            Look for Jesus in those predictable places—His Word, the Scriptures, Absolution, the Sacraments of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper—and you will find Him there. He may not be visible in these places the way we normally think of visibility. He certainly does hide under bread and wine, in a splash of water and Word, under ink on a page, a word spoken by a man sent in His stead and by His command. But He is there because He’s promised to be. He sort of like a parent playing hide and seek with a very young child, standing behind a curtain with a foot standing out, or behind a couch with the top of his head higher than the back of the sofa. He wants you to find Him in these same familiar places so that you can be sure that it’s Him and He’s with you. You’ll see His hand guiding you through—even if it’s dark going through those challenges—but He’ll bring you to hope and faith again. He’ll purify your faith in Him in those moments so that you’ll look to nothing else for salvation and eternal hope. He’ll show Himself to you and call you by name, as He has before, as He always will. In the name of Jesus, the Risen One. Amen.