Seasons of transition stir up a lot of feelings: sentiments of the past; thoughts about “the way things have always been;” concerns and hopes for a future that seems so unknown; feelings of worry, excitement, grief and uncertainty…often ALL of these things at the same time!
As I write this letter, I am aware of many waves of transition washing over us as individuals and as a community: Pastor Randy’s new call in Maryland, the work of an Interim Pastor Nomination Committee, the present moment dubbed: “the interim before the interim.” Around us there are graduations, summer camps, births and deaths, weddings, separations, retirements and new jobs…the list goes on.
Our faith assures us that these experiences and these reactions are a natural part of life. Throughout scripture we hear story after story of God’s people trying to navigate life’s twists and turns from unexpected hardship to hoped-for new life. And our Gospels all show us that even Jesus’ disciples felt this flurry of mixed emotion after his death and his resurrection.
One of my favorite Easter stories is found in the Gospel of John. John tells the story of how, after seeing the risen Christ in the Upper Room at least two times, Peter goes fishing. Several disciples join him on that boat, as they head for open waters and the familiar territory of the past.
Without the ability to literally follow in Jesus’ footsteps, they were unsure of who they were. Without their Teacher by their side, quieting storms, admonishing Pharisees or feeding multitudes, they weren’t quite sure how to move ahead as his disciples. And even though they had multiple assurances that Jesus was alive, they weren’t quite sure what it meant for them—for their present moment or future.
So Jesus shows up and makes them breakfast on the beach. He doesn’t call them out for their back, or even walk out to them on the water as he had done in the past. He let’s them have their moment…and when they are done, Jesus is waiting for them on dry land with a meal prepared to feed their souls.
In this congregational season of transition, many of us might not know what we are to do next. Like the disciples we know that the God we follow and serve is alive and well, but things are different. And different is disorienting even in the best of times. We may find ourselves—like the disciples—trying to go backwards to familiar moments in our life (individual and congregational) in which we had more certainty and felt like we had more control.
Regardless of how we strive to process the fluidity of this present moment, the truth in this Scripture passage gives me hope. The same God who in Christ was frying up some fish on the seashore is the same Christ who draws near to us, wherever God finds us in our faith or in our doubt. This God is the same Christ who tries to nourish us for the ministry that lies ahead, who gently reminds us to “feed his sheep,” and who sends us out in the power of the Spirit to BE the Body of Christ in new seasons and new ways.
My prayer is that we will find rest, recalibration, and refreshment for our shared journey together, and find comfort in the Good News that God is with US still.
—Pastor Heather