Wandering Heart: Here’s My Heart
Second Sunday of Easter
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I must say that the piece of the Gospel Lesson that stands out for me is this verse:
“Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.”
The last time I preached here was in February 2022. I was in the midst of an involved diagnostic process. I’d woken up on New Year’s Day of 2022 with a lump on the side of my face. One thing led to another and a few weeks later I was scheduled for a surgical biopsy at Rochester General.
A few days before the surgery, I was summoned to the hospital – I felt like out of the blue – for a regimen of pre-surgical tests. No one had told me ahead of time that was a part of the deal. So I found myself feeling a bit resentful and put upon that I needed to drive up there early on a Monday morning. I felt like my life was no longer my own.
when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, someone else will take you where you do not wish to go.
But an interesting thing happened as I drove up there that morning. It dawned on me that maybe this was all part of a larger process that really wasn’t in my control, and I just needed to hand myself over to it. Where I wished to go really didn’t matter. This was out of my hands. My wandering heart needed to answer a call to a larger and more pressing story. I needed to trust others to be in charge. My life wasn’t my own. I had entered a different world I didn’t really understand.
At the first Easter Peter and the other disciples had entered a different world they didn’t really understand.
It’s worth noting that the tone of the days following the first Easter is not joy. There were a whole range of emotional and attitudinal responses. There was bewilderment. There was wonder. There was curiosity. There was fear. And then there was some guilt and shame as well.
As Peter tries to come to terms with that first Easter, he’s coming off some hard days.
Let’s remember, of course, that Peter had sworn up and down when he talked to Jesus before the crucifixion that he would never turn away from him. He would never abandon his teacher.
Jesus, of course, knew better and told Peter that, in fact, before the morning would arrive, Peter would deny Jesus three times. And that’s what happened. Peter denied three times to folks around him that he even knew who Jesus was.
As this series on Peter’s wandering heart has highlighted, Peter comes across in the Bible as a person who wants to do the right thing. He is typically motivated to step forward and take charge. He is portrayed as decisive, if not impulsive. So, his grandiose self-confidence in the face of Jesus’ warning is not a surprise. Nor is his failure to live up to his own ambition.
And then Jesus was executed. Peter felt like he let Jesus down at the end. His last opportunity to be faithful and he blew it. After making a big deal that he would be loyal, he caves.
And this situation is, of course, complicated by the problem of what to do after the crucifixion. Peter and the other disciples have to figure out: What’s next for us?
They had left their prior lives behind to follow Jesus, and there is no obvious way forward. To them the Jesus story is over. Dead and gone. So, in our reading this morning, we find them back fishing – the old agenda. The Jesus business is done.
But Jesus appears, and just as he did at an earlier fishing episode, directs Peter to a huge catch of fish after a night of fruitless effort.
Jesus’ appearance is mysterious, intimidating, and dramatically unsettling. This is a decidedly “rock my world” situation. But Jesus has prepared breakfast and offers them to join him in the meal.
As I read the passage, it feels to me like that meal begins to bring Peter and the disciples into this new world Jesus has opened up. Breakfast really can be the most important meal of the day.
But the invitation back into Jesus’ story puts Peter at a crossroads: Jesus asks him three times whether he loves his old fishing agenda more than the agenda of shepherding the flock Jesus has gathered. Are you willing to trust yourself into my agenda, my way, my love, my life?
Easter puts Peter at a crossroads, and we may find ourselves at the same crossroads:
Will we follow our wandering heart? OR
Will we follow Christ’s heart with a courageous and confident wonder?
Before this Peter had thought that his bluster and grandiosity was his strength. He had relied on his impulsiveness to dominate his situation and those around him. But in this Easter transformation, Peter has to wonder again whether he had it right.
Peter and Jesus had had some arguments about what it might mean to be strong. Jesus had said time after time, in a variety of ways, that to be strong is not to be in a position to dominate others, but to find ways to love others.
The strong person is not the one who succeeds in a rivalry with others. The strong person is the one who has the capacity to engage rivals into reconciliation. The strong person is the one with the patience and the presence to love the world into peace.
Strength is the ability to hold onto the truth, even when that truth is uncomfortable to bear and even when that truth is about our own limitations.
Strength is not about building up strong defenses, but rather about being open, vulnerable to the good, the beautiful, and the just.
Not high walls, but wide bridges.
And the question naturally emerges – but is that safe? Will we be secure?
Good Friday reminded us that even Jesus was not safe in this world.
And, in its turn, Easter reminds us that not even the worst is the end. It is the prelude for God’s response. The setting for God’s wondrous action.
The crucifixion of Jesus, his descent to the dead, and his resurrection drive home to us that God does not abandon us in the midst of trouble, pain, sin, or death, but instead continues to embrace us into the future with love.
The Easter Story is the sign that new life can be on the other side of evil, suffering, and death. Ultimately our stories become part of God’s story; all our stories are being gathered up into love.
That was my experience as I was led where I did not wish to go. I was gathered up into love. Part of that was the love of this congregation in notes, cards, calls, and prayers. Another part were the compassionate health-care workers of all kinds who took care of me.
So, can we hear that? Can we live that?
All our stories are being gathered up into love.
All our stories are being gathered up into love.
Of course, some will be drawn in kicking and screaming. Some will feel it is a plot against them. Some will be drawn in only in fear. Some will be bewildered the whole way.
But some of us – especially those of us who take the Easter message to heart – will go with the assurance that, yes, it’s out of our hands. When we were young we went where we wanted, but now we are being invited to trust ourselves into love.
To give up following our wandering hearts and follow Christ’s heart in wonder, open to whatever comes next.
We are invited to say: Here’s my heart!
Thanks be to God!