Sunday, May 1st, 2022 – Easter 3
Philip’s Reflection: “Hearing the Voice of Jesus”
I have always been interested in stories of personal transformation – particularly the
stories of those who have overcome adversity to make the world a better place. We can
think of Nelson Mandela, for example, who spent over 20 years in jail for his opposition
to apartheid and went on to become the first leader of a democratic South Africa. Or the
great social reformer, William Wilberforce, whose early life as a wealthy British socialite,
was transformed into a lifelong passion for the abolition of slavery, ultimately successful.
Or, closer to home we think of Terry Fox, or Viola Desmond, pioneer of black rights in
Nova Scotia, or Tommy Douglas the founder of Canada’s universal healthcare system –
people who not only overcame adversity to achieve transformation – but who were also
transformed in the process.
The Old Testament has its fair share of characters who overcame adversity, including
personal tragedy or sinfulness, to become revered figures in the history of Israel. Think
of Joseph, the favourite son of his father Jacob, sold into slavery in Egypt by jealous
brothers, eventually becoming second in command to the Pharaoh, who used his
position to provide for the Hebrew people in exile, including the brothers who once
despised him; or Moses, who killed an Egyptian before fleeing for his life – and who led
the Israelites out of Egypt towards the Promised Land; or King David who, despite a
personal history of pain, disobedience and violence, is described as a man after God’s
own heart (1 Sam 13:14). All of these, and many other great figures in the OT,
experienced personal transformation following some type of divine intervention – a
dream, a burning bush, or hearing God’s voice. From broken or inauspicious
beginnings, they became God’s chosen leaders.
And so we come to today’s two readings from the New Testament. What do they tell us
about personal transformation that might have some relevance for our own lives? First,
Saul of Tarsus: and on first appearances there couldn’t be a more unlikely figure for the
one who would become, as St. Paul, the most important person after Jesus in the
history of Christianity. We first hear of Saul as a witness to the stoning of Stephen, one
of the seven deacons of the early church, and we’re told that Saul “approved of [the]
killing” (Acts 7:58) and his reputation grew as a fearsome persecutor of early followers
of “The Way” - “ravaging the church by entering house after house; dragging off both
men and women” to prison. (Acts 8:3).
And he’s now on his way to Damascus “still breathing threats and murder against the
disciples of the Lord” when we hear of one of the most dramatic U-turns in all of history
– Saul is struck by a heavenly light and addressed by a disembodied voice, and he
hears the voice of Jesus himself – the Jesus who had been crucified, raised, reappeared and ascended. And although what happened there has given its name to “a
conversion experience” on the dusty Road to Damascus, what was it that led to this
dramatic change of direction in Saul’s life – that transformed Saul into the Apostle Paul?
It’s surely the words of Jesus – “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me? ...Who are you,
Lord? he asks... “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting” – by persecuting my followers,
Jesus says, you are persecuting me. And Saul is temporarily blinded by the realization
that Jesus identifies with his followers, is still with them, and that by attacking them Saul
is attacking the divine presence among them; that realization is life-changing.
And then we have a different type of epiphany – after the crucifixion of Jesus some of
the disciples have returned to their previous occupation as fishermen, and they’ve spent
the whole night fishing without any success, and a stranger on the shoreline tells them
to “throw their nets out on the other side” and they now fill their nets with quite a catch –
their nets were “full of large fish, a hundred and fifty three of them”, fish of all kinds, and
they come ashore and they recognize this mysterious stranger as the risen Jesus, they
don’t need to ask who it is “because they knew it was the Lord.” And they sit down for
what is sometimes called the “Last Breakfast” – and instead of bread and wine, “Jesus
came and took the bread and gave it to them, and did the same with the fish.”
But what interests us now is the dialogue between Jesus and Peter – this same Peter,
one of the most trusted and loved of the disciples, the same Peter who denied his
knowledge of Jesus three times on the night of his betrayal, who is now asked – three
times – “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” – and he replies “Yes, Lord, you know
that I love you”, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you” and then, feeling hurt “Lord, you
know everything; you know that I love you.” Amid the memory of the denials, it’s as if
Jesus is giving Peter an opportunity to redeem himself, an opportunity to expunge the
shame, to assure him that, despite his failings he is loved – entrusted with the role of
tending and feeding the sheep with the spiritual food of the Gospel, the Good News of
one who suffered, was crucified and is now raised.
That in itself would be a transforming message for one who is now forgiven by the risen
Christ. But there’s another message here that perhaps you heard, and it has spoken to
me personally as perhaps it speaks to you too - “When you were younger, [Jesus says
to Peter] you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you wished.” When you
were younger, he might have said, the world was your oyster, life is open to you, go
where you wish and, if you’re lucky, you may encounter something special. “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.”
And this, I believe, is the common thread in all the great examples of personal
transformation I mentioned earlier – Mandela, Wilberforce, Terry Fox, Viola Desmond,
Tommy Douglas and the great Biblical characters of the Old Testament – “someone” or
“something” fastened a belt around them and took them where they did not choose to
go, where they would have preferred not to go. To a place where they experienced risk
or adversity, or had to confront their own fears of mortality, or their sinfulness, and in the
process, they were transformed and the world became a better place through their
leadership or example or advocacy.
As it was also for the two men we have heard about this morning – Saul of Tarsus, the
persecutor, transformed into the Apostle Paul, and Simon, the serial denier, the son of
John, who became Peter “this rock [on which] I will build my church” (Mt. 16:18). Both
heard the voice of Jesus, both surrendered to someone fastening the belt around them,
and both were taken where they did not wish to go – and eventually to their deaths.
And so it can be for us too, both individually and as the beloved community. We hear
the voice of Jesus calling us into transformation – the voice can come suddenly, as it
did for Saul; or it can come more gradually, perhaps later in life, as we hear the voice
more clearly, more loudly and persistently as when Jesus asked Peter three times “Do
you love me?”, a voice that calls us into a new way of being, to the point we can no
longer ignore it, calling us to surrender and be led to where we may not wish to go – to
tend the lambs or feed the sheep.
That same voice, the voice of Jesus, is calling you and me today. And it is a voice of
“amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me! I once was lost, but
now am found, was blind but now I see.” (VU 266) Friends, when you hear that voice,
listen to it carefully; for, wherever it may lead you, I promise you it will change your life.