The resurrection of our Lord Jesus is (along with his death upon the cross) the hinge on which history turns. A new world is birthed on the first day of a new creation week (Jn. 20:1). Death has been overcome, sin has been defeated.
Jesus shows his hands and speaks his peace into the hearts of his astonished disciples (Jn. 20:19f). Nothing could ever be the same again. Invincible hope has entered the cosmos.
But the scene immediately following in John 21 brings us down to earth a little. The disciples decide to spend a night on the lake and, as experienced fishermen, would have reasonable confidence that their nets will fill up with fish.
But the scene immediately following in John 21 brings us down to earth a little. The disciples decide to spend a night on the lake and, as experienced fishermen, would have reasonable confidence that their nets will fill up with fish.
Except they don't. And if they had expected the resurrection of Jesus to mean an immediate end to the futility of life in this world, they would have been sorely disappointed.
The same remains true for us. A new creation has dawned, the sun is rising above the horizon, but the full light of day is yet to appear. This world is not yet put right in every respect. There remains much distress and dysfunction.
But our Lord comes to his wearied disciples and directs them, instructs them, leads them, so that there might yet be fruit for their labours, a catch to take home to their hungry families. In this not-yet-renewed, still-broken world, with sorrows and struggles all around us, the Saviour still comes to us as his people and continues to meet us in the labours that are all but unavailing, lifting the burden and bringing hope and blessing.
He directs us according to his wisdom, placing us in the theatre of broken dreams, at the sharp end of grief and loss, emptiness and pain, and tells us to cast our nets into those waters. When we cannot enter others' lives, he calls us to the agony of prayer, longing and pleading for those who are lost, weeping with those who weep. Because this world is not yet finally healed and restored.
Andy Le Peau writes that "Christ is already present with those who suffer, who grieve, who are anxious, who rejoice in a good outcome. How can we join him as he offers grace to them?" (Andrew T. Le Peau, Write Better, p.172)
We join him as we pray.
The same remains true for us. A new creation has dawned, the sun is rising above the horizon, but the full light of day is yet to appear. This world is not yet put right in every respect. There remains much distress and dysfunction.
But our Lord comes to his wearied disciples and directs them, instructs them, leads them, so that there might yet be fruit for their labours, a catch to take home to their hungry families. In this not-yet-renewed, still-broken world, with sorrows and struggles all around us, the Saviour still comes to us as his people and continues to meet us in the labours that are all but unavailing, lifting the burden and bringing hope and blessing.
He directs us according to his wisdom, placing us in the theatre of broken dreams, at the sharp end of grief and loss, emptiness and pain, and tells us to cast our nets into those waters. When we cannot enter others' lives, he calls us to the agony of prayer, longing and pleading for those who are lost, weeping with those who weep. Because this world is not yet finally healed and restored.
Andy Le Peau writes that "Christ is already present with those who suffer, who grieve, who are anxious, who rejoice in a good outcome. How can we join him as he offers grace to them?" (Andrew T. Le Peau, Write Better, p.172)
We join him as we pray.
And notice, for our encouragement to continue faithful in prayer, just as the disciples' disappointment was turned to amazement, so too we are assured in Ps.126 that,
"Those who sow with tears
will reap with songs of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
carrying seed to sow,
will return with songs of joy,
carrying sheaves with them."
The harvest may not be immediate but it remains assured. Our tears are bottled, our prayers are heard. And God's real and true and perfecting answer will be given.
And when the world is finally filled with light and bathed in blessing, as our sorrow is turned to gladness, we will again recognise whose world it always was and is, whose hand directed and whose voice commanded. "It is the Lord!" will then pour from our hearts as an overflowing spring of joy, welling up in eternal life.
