What a day Peter has had. I imagine the scene of today’s gospel, with him standing on the shore, idly mending a net as he thinks about all that had happened in recent days. The arrest, flogging, and reports from the women of his dying on the cross.
Later, as they all gathered, terrified, in a locked room, suddenly, Jesus was there with them, wishing them peace and reminding them of how much he loved them. But Peter could not feel that love. He couldn’t even look Jesus in the eye. He was twisted in guilt and shame as he remembered that awful night standing by the charcoal fire in the courtyard. The maid accusing Peter of being “one of them” a follower of Jesus. In a fury, Peter raged at the maid, denying ever knowing Jesus. Then, he may have sidled quietly to the edge of the crowd and disappeared into darkness.
Yesterday, Peter had spent the day on the shore, distractedly mending nets. If only he could see Jesus again, look into those familiar brown eyes and speak to him as they had done so many times. If he could just talk with Jesus, things might be fixed.
But after standing on the shore all day, he turns in frustration to what he knows. He announces: “I’m going fishing.” The others, maybe relieved to have something to do, pile into the boat at dusk. But it was a long, fruitless night and their boat was as empty as Peter felt as they rowed for the shore.
Then a man, standing in the still-dark light of morning calls out to ask if they had caught anything, but the men simply called back, “no.”
The man responded, “Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” As the men tossed their nets off the right, Peter tried to remember something. Another time like this, when Jesus, himself, had been standing on the shore, encouraging them to toss their nets after a long night of fishing…
Then there was no time for memories. Their nets were full, brimming and overflowing with fish and the shouting men scrambled to pull the nets in.
It was John, who stopped and stared hard at the figure on the shore, then yelled, “It’s the Lord!”
Peter’s head snapped up from the nets, and always impetuous, he stripped off his cloak and jumped straight into the water, swimming to the shore. He HAD to see Jesus. He had so much to say to him.
He reached the shore and pulled himself out, then didn’t know what to say. Jesus smiled affectionately at Peter and offered him breakfast, suggesting he bring some of the fish to the charcoal fire.
It stung Peter as he thought of the charcoal fire from a few nights ago, where he had denied knowing Jesus. Now he stood before the warmth of Jesus, dripping and silent.
Jesus had come to shower Peter with love and forgiveness, and to let him know that it was Peter’s very humanity, his love and, yes, his enthusiastic bumbling at times, that made Peter – this flawed sinner – the right person to lead the group into the future.
All of us may have had times when we feel distant from Jesus. Our flaws or our busyness have kept us from prayer and conversation with him. Like Peter, we can be blind to Jesus’ presence in our lives. But it’s never too late to recognize the one who loves us endlessly, the one standing before us with open arms. We can peer out from Peter’s boat through the dark of night, and recognize that he is standing there, waiting for us – waiting to feed us.
Today in these post-Easter days, we can put down our fears and look to Jesus who wants to welcome us back to shore with kindness, warmth and breakfast.
No matter how long we have been gone.
Maureen McCann Waldron
The most important part of my life is my family – Jim my husband of 47 years and our two children. Our daughter Katy, a banker here in Omaha, and her husband John, have three wonderful children: Charlotte, Daniel and Elizabeth Grace. Our son Jack and his wife, Ellie, have added to our joy with their sons, Peter and Joseph.
I think family life is an incredible way to find God, even in (or maybe I should say, especially in) the most frustrating or mundane moments.
I am a native of the East Coast after graduating in 1971 from Archbishop John Carroll High School in suburban Philadelphia. I graduated from Creighton University in 1975 with a degree in Journalism and spent most of the next 20 years in corporate public relations in Omaha. I returned to Creighton in the 1990s and completed a master’s degree in Christian Spirituality in 1998.
As our children were growing up, my favorite times were always family dinners at home when the four of us would talk about our days. But now that our kids are gone from home, my husband and I have rediscovered how nice it is to have a quiet dinner together. I also have a special place in my heart for family vacations when the kids were little and four of us were away from home together. It’s a joy to be with my growing family.
Writing a Daily Reflection is always a graced moment, because only with God’s help could I ever write one. I know my own life is hectic, disjointed and imperfect and I know most of us have lives like that. I usually write from that point of view and I always seem to find some sentence, some word in the readings that speaks right to me, in all of my imperfection. I hope that whatever I write is in some way supportive of others.
It’s an incredibly humbling experience to hear from someone who was touched by something I wrote. Whether the note is from someone across campus or across the world, it makes me realize how connected we are all in our longing to grow closer to God.
