The 3rd Sunday of Easter - Expectation and Surprise

Sometimes our expectations are confirmed by our experiences and sometimes they aren't.  For many Mondays when I was babysitting, I placed my then 18-month-old grandson in his crib for an afternoon nap.  Then I expected him to be in the crib drifting off to sleep. When the nap was over he would call for me, and I would come upstairs to pick him up. Then one Monday, to my surprise, he repeated his newly learned skill of climbing out of the crib before I had even made it down the stairs!

Our gospel readings for Easter Sunday, last Sunday, and today told stories of expectations and experiences full of surprise: Mary Magdalene thinking the tomb would have Jesus' body, Thomas not trusting what the other disciples told him about seeing Jesus, and finally today Peter, the beloved disciple and some other disciples going out in the evening to fish and encountering the risen Christ.

I believe the gospel writer chose the format of expectation--or lack of expectation-- and surprise to describe these encounters, because he saw this as the way God reveals God's self.

Within the story we heard this morning the risen Christ and Peter engage in a conversation that Peter probably never expected to happen. After finding Jesus' tomb empty, he and the beloved disciple went home.  And we remember that Peter had denied that he had been Jesus' companion the night before Jesus' crucifixion.

Today's gospel reading tells us Peter decided to go fishing and some of his fellow disciples decided to go with him.  Jesus—standing on the shore—makes a suggestion that the disciples, who have nothing to show for their night's work. They might catch some fish, he says, if they cast their net on the other side of the boat.  The beloved disciple finally recognizes the risen Christ, and Peter reacts by jumping into the water to reach the shore first. The gospel writer doesn't report any immediate response to Peter by Christ until he and all the disciples had eaten the breakfast of bread and broiled fish.

The gospel writer describes the disciples' expectations in that moment: "Now none of the disciples dared to ask him 'Who are you?' because they knew it was the Lord." But what of Peter?  What were his expectations?

Whatever they were, Peter's experience of hearing Christ's questions and answering them profoundly affected the rest of his life.  No more turning away for home; no more checking out how his old occupation might work out if he tried it again.  His new vocation involves caring for those who will follow "The Way," as we heard it called in the account of St. Paul's conversion—and to follow Jesus in the way of the cross.

The story we heard from the Book of Acts about Saul's expectations and his experience on the road to Damascus may be the most clear example ever of God's revealing God's self to someone who seemed totally unprepared for that revelation. Where Peter had been with Jesus for his entire ministry, Paul had been an enemy.  A religiously educated man, Paul did probably understand Jesus' messages to the religious authorities: loving God meant discovering God in serving the outcasts of society, and loving God meant putting people before the rules while keeping the spirit of the rules to the nth degree.  But he rejected (as blasphemy) Jesus as the long-expected Messiah.

I doubt if Paul ever expected to experience God, in following the way of the risen Christ. I doubt if he ever expected to lead Gentiles to faith in the risen Christ, but his experience on the Damascus road left him but one choice--to follow.

What are our expectations this morning? We will have the opportunity to receive Holy Communion when Christ has told us he will be with us.  We will have the opportunity to greet members of our community when we pass the peace of Christ and when we share coffee (and breakfast) with them. We will return to our homes . . . perhaps talk with family or neighbors . . . maybe chat with the check-out person at the grocery store.

Do we expect to experience Christ's presence among us at all these times?  Do we hope to know "the peace of the Lord"?  Do we trust that in all these moments we will find we are being cared for within our family or community--even when we come from various perspectives and points of view?

I believe that bidden or unbidden the Holy One is always present with us.  We may expect to find the Holy One in “holy” moments such when we pray and when we receive communion.  But in ordinary moments, at unexpected times, we may well encounter the Risen Christ—and find ourselves changed by that experience.