Sermon: "The Lord Is There"
The Right Reverend Charles G. vonRosenberg
Third Bishop of East Tennessee

Today's Gospel reading reminds me of a particular week in my life. That week was especially demanding, as I remember it. I had more to do than I could possibly accomplish. People seemed to be picking and pulling at me from every direction. The world had become too complicated … too insistent … almost overwhelming.

And then, in the midst of it all, my grandfather died. He was a wonderful resource of great Texas stories and grandfatherly affection. Now, though, at this moment of mental, physical, and spiritual exhaustion, suddenly the crisis of my grandfather's death intruded.

I had to make plans to travel to Texas for the funeral - clothes to pack, airplane tickets to purchase, a rental car to reserve, and schedules to coordinate. I did not want to do it … any of it. What I wanted to do was to find a little boat, some good wind, and sail away!

That week was nearly thirty years ago. But I still remember it vividly. I did not want to deal with the demands of the world that pushed in on me - demands that were overwhelming and unfamiliar. I went to Texas … but I wanted to go sailing.

Have you ever felt that way? As the world contrives to place new challenges in your path, do you long for something manageable, something reasonable, something familiar, and something safe?

The disciples had grown accustomed to having Jesus around. He was their source of direction, of support, and of strength. But now - after Good Friday and Easter - he was gone. What would they do? Where would they go? The disciples were lost in the unfamiliar. They were overwhelmed by new demands and by uncertain expectations. The world was closing in, and there seemed no room to breathe in this new place that they had not chosen to visit.

Several of them gathered together. They were puzzled at the complexity of the world. They were lost in a new, unfamiliar, unfriendly situation. They were scared. And, as they stood there - huddled against the world - Simon Peter said, "I am going fishing." And the others replied, "We will go with you." Their place of escape was a boat, as my chosen one would have been thirty years ago. They - and I - longed for something familiar and safe.

Remember that these were men who had been fishing before. In fact, they had left their nets and their boats and their fisherman father to follow Jesus three years earlier. And so, they were returning to the familiar. They were choosing to go back to circumstances and situations that were known to them, in the midst of a world that had become unknown. They went fishing.

Our Gospel reading affirms, therefore, the security and comfort of the familiar as we experience an unfamiliar world. I have known that reaction and experience. I suspect that you have known it, too. And the disciples share such a reaction and experience as well.

But the Gospel reading tells us more - much more - than a simple affirmation of this human reaction to an unfamiliar world. The Gospel says that Jesus himself seeks us out in those times and places that are comfortable and familiar to us.

As the disciples were fishing, they encountered the risen Lord. Later, when they cooked a meal on the beach, Jesus was with them. In doing the familiar things of life - those things that are comfortable and secure - it is precisely there that we may find Jesus.

In our collect today, we prayed, "O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work." And those eyes of faith need to be open in our everyday lives … in the familiar and secure places of our lives.

There was a time in my own life - in college - when I wandered away from participation in church activities of any kind. Worship itself seemed inappropriate and irrelevant to the great concerns of the world … and, to me. That attitude lasted several years. And then, I began to sense a growing loneliness and a feeling of being adrift in unfamiliar waters. I had lost my way.

After months of dealing with those unfamiliar waters and of following charts that did not lead me to safe and secure ports, I decided to go to church on Sunday morning. And I found the Lord there … or, more accurately, the Lord found me.

Now, this particular church really is not very impressive. The rector at that time was not someone I agreed with about much at all - certainly not about the social issues that raised conflicts in the church. But church on Sunday morning was a place of safety and security and familiarity for me. And the Lord was there.

Since then, I have had wonderfully powerful moments of spiritual insight … mountaintop experiences of profound significance. Those special moments of wonder and of awe provide significant landmarks on the journey of faith. I am thankful for them all. But no spiritual experience has ever been more important to me than the sense of coming home to that familiar place of safety and security. The Lord was indeed there, waiting for me.

Jesus "made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread." And he makes himself known to us at such times, too. Not just the breaking of communion bread at the altar - but also at other holy moments of communion, like at a family dinner table. May we never underestimate the power of safe and secure familiar times with family and with friends. The Lord himself is there.

Some of you today have made the decision to affirm your faith in public ways - baptism, confirmation, reception, and reaffirmation. You are saying, in effect, "This is home for me. I meet the Lord here." I welcome you. In this place and with these people, may the Lord always be present.

The Lord chooses to be with us in familiar life experiences, as well as in the unknown; in those times and places of safety and security, as well as in the moments of crisis; and in the very center of our lives, as well as on the edges. Pray that we may have eyes to see Jesus at all times in our lives; and pray, therefore, that we may not overlook our Lord in the midst of people and places that we know best.

For the presence of Christ following his resurrection, for the companionship of our Lord in the familiar places of life, and for the assurance that Christ will be known to us also in the breaking of bread, thanks be to God! Amen.