Easter III, Year C

Acts 9:1-9a
Revelation 5:6-14
John 21:1-14

+ In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

Years ago before I became Christian, one of the reasons I hated Christianity was its picture of an angry, punishing, bloodthirsty God, or so that was my understanding. There's lots of reason for someone to have that impression because that is what a lot of Christians believe. That's what Mel Gibson shows us. That's the vision in parts of the Bible. That's what a lot of contemporary preachers tell us. That's what a lot of theologians through the ages have thought.

I learned gradually that catholic, orthodox Christianity is not of one mind on this issue. Not all, but much of traditional, catholic Christianity has little time or interest in emphasizing a judging, damning God. As I learned of the love and mercy and humility and freedom of God, that God is more merciful than judging, more charitable than angry, more healing than violent, I began to convert and to follow Jesus. But I recognize that there are many ways to come to faith, and what appeals to me doesn't necessarily appeal to everyone.

Jonathan Edwards was the leading light and founder of our country's ‘first' Great Awakening in 1734. He brought thousands to the faith through his rousing, forceful preaching. He ignited faith by holding up hell and judgment, the certainty of our death and sin and of our need to make an accounting for our lives before a wrathful God. He promised people that they could have the experience of being saved, of escaping doom and judgment, of being different than their neighbors. People flocked to hear him and responded positively to him, but soon the fervor of most converts cooled.

I think most of us are the same way. For a period we might be attracted to the snobbery of some notion of being set apart from the unsaved, some notion of being ‘elect,' but soon we find the idea of a threatening, punishing God to be too gloomy and oppressive. For most, faith can't be sustained upon fear of eternal torture, and who wants to believe in a God that inflicts eternal torture on creatures he creates and loves? Also, is it healthy, or Christian, to think of ourselves as better than the unsaved, to look down on those who don't share our faith or practice it the same way? It doesn't work to help faith mature. It doesn't make sense or appeal to what's best in us.

For most people, probably at least two in three, conversion is a gradual process. Garry Wills reports that this gradual process for two out of three is "the result of intellectual and emotional quest. Only a third [of conversions] are sudden." Sudden conversions generally occur in our early years. Jonathan Edwards was only 31 when he sparked the Great Awakening, and his most responsive followers were quite young. Adolescents are the most likely to have dramatic, sudden conversions.

What then are we to make of S. Paul's conversion? From reading today's lesson from Acts, we probably get the impression of a sudden conversion. When people talk about a ‘Pauline' conversion, from Saul to Paul, we think of a sudden, dramatic about-face. Is that what really happened? I'm not sure.

Paul, of course, had been a great persecutor of the Church. He had essentially given his blessing to the stoning of S. Stephen – the Church's first martyr. In Acts we read: "Saul was ravaging the Church, and entering house after house, and dragging off men and women and committed them to prison." (Acts 8:3) As Paul persecuted the Church, the sincerity and passion of the Christians, their certainty of the truth and love of Jesus, their strength and courage under duress, must have made a huge impression upon him. Stephen had met his death with tremendous grace and nobility and beauty. He had prayed for those stoning him, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them" just as Jesus had prayed for his executors, "Father, forgive them know not what they do." Stephen's witness must have stirred up Paul's heart and mind. He had to wonder, "How could Stephen be a bad man if he died with such courage, love, mercy, and hope?"

My guess is that Paul reacted to these doubts initially by intensifying his persecutions. Acts tells us that he went after Jesus's disciples in Jerusalem, and then he went to the Sanhedrin, the supreme religious body, the Jewish court, and received authorization to go 140 miles north to Damascus to arrest Jewish followers of Jesus there. Paul had heard that some of Jesus' followers had fled Jerusalem and escaped to Damascus. Off Paul went with the Sandhedrin police, walking the 140 miles.

As they went, Paul would've walked by himself because he was a Pharisee and would have nothing to do with the police, other than use them to persecute Jesus' followers. Walking all day alone, every day for a week, he would've had time to think and to reflect, especially since the road from Jerusalem to Damascus went through Jesus' home country, Galilee. I don't doubt that Paul heard and saw Jesus on the Damascus Road, but my guess is that there had been quite a bit of preparation in his heart and mind for his stunning turn around, this moment of conversion.

The southern approach to Damascus goes up Mount Hermon, a high mountain, nearly 10,000 feet at its peak. It's almost a range, or a ridge. Today Arabs call it ‘the snow mountain' because the top is almost always covered with snow. Sometimes when the hot air from the Damascene plain rose up and met the cold air from the mountain, there would be electrical storms. It is possible that as Paul came down the mountain toward Damascus that the light flashing from heaven was an electrical storm of this sort.

Paul's conversion was radical, dramatic. He had planned to enter Damascus in fury and power, but he enters blind and vulnerable. He had known his mission and purpose, but he enters confused and waiting to be told what to do, seeking God's will. He had been independent, but he becomes dependent upon the help of strangers. He is learning the way of Christ, the way of the Cross, the way of love.

Some of us can remember our own conversion, and others have known Christian belief and practice all of their lives, but all of us must know about renewal, about the deepening of our conversion. For all of life is really a process of conversion. That's part of the message we heard in today's gospel. The scene opens back in Galilee, not in Jerusalem where the disciples have had some experiences of the risen Jesus. Why did the disciples go back to Galilee? Why have they returned to their former occupation? Has not the Passion and the Resurrection changed their lives?

The picture we get of the disciples is that they are confused. John's gospel tells us that the miraculous catch of fish was the third time they encountered the risen Jesus, and even the third time they do not recognize him, even when he calls to them. It's only after they get an enormous haul of fish that they recognize Jesus' identity. Peter is toiling naked in the boat. Why does he put on his clothes before jumping into the sea and swimming to the shore? It doesn't seem like rational, coherent behavior. The disciples still have not really understood what has happened. Sure, there's happiness about the resurrection, but there's probably more confusion and awkwardness and fear and shock.

The beginnings of the Church and her mission are shaky and uncertain. Before Peter can become the great leader of the Church and lead her to enormous growth, before he can become a great fisher of men, Peter first needs to deal with his great shame – his shame for having denied Christ three times on the night of his betrayal. Immediately following the scene in today's gospel, when they had finished breakfast, Jesus asked Peter, "Do you love me?" Jesus asked Peter three times, "Do you love me?" Three times Peter said, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."

Of course, on Maundy Thursday, as he huddled by the charcoal fire in the court of the high priest, Peter had three times denied knowing Jesus. Now on the shore of Galilee by the charcoal fire, Peter three times affirmed his love of Jesus. Jesus forgives. He heals and makes us whole. He always reaches out to his people. He gives Peter the opportunity to grow in faith, hope, and charity, to mature spiritually, to change again, to renew his conversion.

Everyone who has tried to follow Christ knows what failure is like, how we've denied our Lord, how we've not lived up to Christian ideals, how it's a common feature of our life. Jesus still loves us. He still welcomes us. He reaches out to us. He restores us. He renews us. He changes us. Peter's conversion deepens. Conversion is not a one off event, but a continual process through all of life, deepening our love and commitment to God, growing in faith, developing more trust in God.

After asking Peter three times "Do you love me?", Jesus told Peter, "you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not wish to go." Then again, Jesus said to Peter, "Follow me." Following Jesus often means going where we do not want to go. That is what happened to S. Paul in his conversion. That is essential if we want mature faith.

Two epistles are attributed to Peter. The second one concludes: "grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ." Throughout Peter's life, we see him growing in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. That's conversion. That's what each of us needs, now and always.

In the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.