The Fishing Boat and the Upper Room

During this time of uncertainty, I’ve tried to orient myself by the church calendar and its weeks-long (rather than one-day) celebration of Easter. As I’ve done so, I’ve reflected on my own tendencies and thought patterns alongside the disciples’ activity between Jesus’ resurrection and the day of Pentecost, and I'm struck by the disciples’ response to uncertainty.

In John 20, we find an account of Jesus’ post-resurrection appearance to his disciples, who we’re told are locked in a room for fear of the Jews. Jesus visits them and says, ‘Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.’ And when he had said this, he breathed on them and said to them, ‘Receive the Holy Spirit’” (John 20:21-22).

In what follows this remarkable, miraculous, scene in which Christ visits the disciples in a locked room and sends them out with his Holy Spirit, Peter says, “I am going fishing” (John 21:3). 

Something seems off to me here. When Jesus says in John 20, “As the father is sending me, so I send you,” I don’t think he’s talking about sending his disciples fishing. And yet, that’s where Peter goes. Things have been turned upside-down, and he returns to what he knows.

The reality of Christ's resurrection, however, means that a fishing boat is no longer simply a fishing boat. It’s now the site of encounter with Christ. And the act of fishing is becomes a central metaphor for the gospel's spread.

Furthermore, Peter’s response to go fishing makes sense if we recall that Christ first calls Peter as he's fishing.

“Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men” (Mark 1:16-17).

Fast forward to one of their last interactions, and Jesus says the same thing to Peter as they talk on the shore.

“And after saying this Jesus said to Peter, ‘Follow me’” (John 21:19).

These two calls to “follow me” are the bookends of Jesus' earthly interactions with Peter. They both happen when Peter is fishing. So perhaps it’s not so surprising to find Peter saying, ‘I’m going fishing’ after receiving the Spirit. After all, the fishing boat is the site of his calling.

Or consider The Last Supper--the disciples are together in the upper room. Then Jesus dies, is resurrected, and then, after he ascends and leaves them. Where do they return? An upper room. Again on the Day of Pentecost, we find them in the Upper Room

There are a couple of instances in John's gospel when the narrator intrudes on the narrative to say, “After he had been raised from the dead, his disciples remembered that he had said these things.” I wonder if the time spent in the Upper Room was one where they collectively recalled Jesus’ promise to send a Helper in John 14. I wonder if they had time to reflect on the event of Jesus visiting them there in the locked room, breathing on them and commissioning them.

I love theologian Jack Levison’s take on the disciples’ activity during the time between Easter and Pentecost. He says,

“What were they doing in the Upper room for those days between Jesus’ departure and the Spirit’s arrival?” He posits, “They were reading their Bible. They are trying to understand Jesus. And so what happens when they’re inspired and the Spirit fills the Upper Room? They go back to what they know. They speak a litany of God’s great works.” Although they supernaturally speak in languages they don’t know, Levison reminds us that “what we often miss is that the content is not at all remarkable; it’s actually a recitation of the past leading up to the resurrection.”

Just as Christ’s presence has transformed the fishing boat into something much more significant than simply a fishing vessel for Peter, so the descent of the Spirit at Pentecost means that the Upper Room is no longer simply a place believers gather. Like the fishing boat, the Upper Room is transformed. Instead of just a place of gathering, it is the launching point for love-directed action, bold speech, and self-sacrifice. 

I can't help but wonder if, in both of these instances, what lies behind the disciples’ return to a familiar place, whether to a fishing boat or an Upper Room, is a desire to recapture a sense not just of normalcy, but of purpose.

Perhaps a rediscovery of our calling and commission, individually and collectively, is available to us with the Spirit's help, even (or especially) during these days.

What causes the disciples to move from a locked room where they're filled with fear in John 20 to being sent out to boldly proclaim the message of Christ in the book of Acts? It's certainly not that things were easier and the threat had faded. Rather, something had changed in their understanding of their calling as well as in their understanding of their commission. “Follow me,” Jesus says to Peter. Shortly thereafter, he ascends from their sight. So right away, the disciples know that whatever Jesus means by “follow me” must transcend physically walking with him.

Perhaps during this time of uncertainty, like the disciples or like Peter specifically, you would return to the place where God has met you. Where might we go to rediscover what it means to follow him?

In these scriptural passages, we’re talking about physical places (a fishing boat and an Upper Room), but a return to a physical place might not be possible, but the question stands: Where has God met you?

Perhaps your mind goes back to a special moment of crossing the line of faith for the first time; nothing will ever be the same, or a moment of being present to another’s suffering, or reaching out to someone to form or to reconcile a relationship

Maybe you think of the moment you were baptized in water, or a time when you felt a clear sense of God's presence or direction, or met someone’s need.

What is your “fishing boat”? Where is your “Upper Room”? Perhaps you've lost sight of your purpose and need the Helper to re-confirm or re-enliven it.

In thinking our various callings, I’m reminded of Paul’s entreaty to the believers in Ephesus regarding their collective “call” to love and serve God and others:

I therefore, a prisoner for the Lord, urge you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling to which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love,  eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace (Ephesians 4:1-3).

There it is again—the unity of the Spirit, the Helper that Christ promises to send.

What does the “Helper” help us to do? Among other things, the Helper transforms our familiar places into places of encounter. He transforms our gathering places into launch pads. The Helper helps us to remember our fishing boat and our upper room, our calling and commission. 

I want to add a brief word here about our response to calling and commission. Some of us will feel comfortable responding eagerly and quickly. Others of us might not be in a position emotionally or physically to respond as quickly. I want to make this point as clearly as possible, even as it regards something as practical returning to in-person gatherings—and here I’m not sure I can improve on the words of Paul:  let’s commit to do so with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, eagerly maintaining the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.

I look forward to gathering together; but eager as I am to gather, let me encourage you that when we return to the church building, we conceive of it not primarily as a place we gather, but as a place we gather from which we are sent.  

Furthermore, let’s commit to make this physical space a “fishing boat” or an “Upper Room” for each other and for others—a place where we can hear and respond to God’s call, or where we get a clear sense of being sent on mission.

Christ has sent a Helper, an Advocate. In these weeks, perhaps we are being called to back to what’s familiar—to the narrative of God's activity in Scripture and to God's activity in each of our lives—so that we might re-envision our calling to love God and our commission to love others in the future, whatever it holds.