This Third Sunday of Easter we hear about Jesus greeting some of the Apostles
and disciples from the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, first advising them to cast their nets
onto the right side of the boat to catch fish in their empty barren nets, and then
to come share their subsequent abundant one hundred fifty-three fish with him for breakfast.
As they approach, Jesus is already cooking some fish upon a charcoal fire. The smells, the flame, the partaking of a meal with the Lord, undoubtedly stirs up a storm of emotions for all of them. In particular, Peter would have been transported back to the Love Feast of the Last Supper, when he had zealously responded to Jesus' prophetic words and warning that all would have their faith in Him shaken, when he had promised Him, "Though all may have their faith in you shaken, mine will never be...Even though I should have to die with you, I will not deny you..." [Mt 26:33,35]
Fatsforward a few short hours later and Peter finds himself outside the gates of the high priest's courtyard where Jesus is being falsely accused. He is surrounded by the slaves and the guards who begin to question him and accuse him of his affiliation with this troublemaker Jesus. Peter is keeping himself warm next to the charcoal fire. Thrice he is given the opportunity to affirm his relationship with Jesus and that he will gladly go to prison and/or die for Him, and thrice he fails and denies His Beloved. He is outside the gates of prayer, relying on his own strength. He is looking away from Christ's Face to himself, others, the fire, and the threats that surround him, similar to what he had experienced when he began to walk on water with eyes only on Jesus but then looked down and immediately sank. When I hear this story, I hear my own story. When I imagine Peter and hear his subsequent moans and bitter tears from the depths of his soul, when I see him turn his face away from the Lord, I see a mirrored reflection of myself.
Thankfully, Jesus does not leave Peter [nor us] in his shame, but instead brings him back to the place where this deep wound of denial and subsequent existential guilt gnaws at Peter's very being. He doesn't get to avoid it or circumvent this most painful memory. Indeed, he can't run away from it by returning to his old life of fishing, and he can't push it down and cover it with distractions in the hopes that it will someday go away. Instead, it must be looked at and experienced like the bronze serpent that is placed upon the seraph. Just as God provides the remedy to venomous snakes biting the Israelites following their complaining and infidelities against Him by promising, "When anyone who is bitten looks at it, he will recover" [Num 21:8]. Jesus instructs Nicodemus that, 'just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the desert, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, so that everyone who believes in him may have eternal life' [Jn 3:13-14]. It is in looking at the Face of Jesus lifted upon the Cross who, though pure, innocent and undefiled as the spotless Lamb of God, voluntarily becomes the Face of sin [See Novo Millenio Inuente 25] that we can experience true freedom. It is in approaching the Cross as the Tree of Life and the bedchamber of the Divine Bridegroom that we can be renewed and healed.
Beyond the healing Face to face encounter with Jesus, Peter is invited into this healing interchange through smell which is the sense most associated with our memories. The charcoal-fired scent on the shores of Galilee that morning would have elicited a response in the depths of Peter. Neuroscientists have found that odors are handled by an olfactory bulb in the brain that enjoys a direct pathway to the limbic system, which includes the amygdala and the hippocampus, both of which are associated with emotions and memories. It is there in that embodied space that Jesus invites Peter into this most painful memory of his triple denial, and then grants him a new invitation to love Him and feed His sheep. Peter is then able to reaffirm his brotherly love for Jesus and his willingness to serve Him. We can almost feel the relief and the release of his profoundest pain in this exchange. In a sense, Jesus sticks His finger into the deepest wound of Peter's heart, just as He invited Thomas to probe the core wound of His own Sacred Heart. His Divine Mercy is the healing balm and salve that strengthens Peter for the journey and mission ahead. By looking at the sin, the denial, and source of greatest shame He is now equipped to move forward.
The charcoal fire denotes this cleansing, as charcoal is used as a broad-spectrum binder that can be given as a means of removing poisions and toxins from the body. Charcoal is a carbon-based substance made from decomposing coconut shells, peat, and bamboo. It is porous and essentially mops up just about anything roaming in the body. Today, it is commonly used for overdoses and for die off from disease and free radicals. Jesus deliberately lights this charcoal fire [in Greek, anthrakia] instead of using the ample driftwood that undoubtedly was available to Him. This charcoal fire is going to bind the toxins running rampant within Peter's mind, heart, soul and body that include his denials, sins of pride, self-sufficiency, concern for human esteem, and his debilitating shame and sorrow. Jesus' Words are Life itself. When received they become elixirs to what ails us. By receiving and then responding to Christ's gentle Words and gentle question, 'Do you love me?', Peter is cleansed and restored on a deeper level that makes space for the Fire of the Holy Spirit to come in and dwell ever-more deeply within his heart.
We see that the charcoal fire of Jesus' Divine Mercy and Love for Peter has expanded his heart space for an intensified flame to burn within his heart. He is no longer cowed by fear or concerned with his reputation, but has been immersed in the fire of the Holy Spirit which was imparted to Peter and all of the disciples on the Feast of Pentecost 50 days after the Passover, when 'there appeared to them tongues as of fire, which parted and then came to rest on each one of them' [Acts 2:3].
Henceforth, we see Peter filled with zeal for the glory of God and preaching unabashedly in the Holy Name of Jesus. Even under duress, death threats and imprisonment, St. Peter is now able to courageously proclaim Jesus as Lord as he responds to those who persecute them,
We must obey God rather than men.
The God of our ancestors raised Jesus,
though you had him killed by hanging him on a tree.
God exalted him at his right hand as leader and savior
to grant Israel repentence and forgiveness.
We are witnesses of these things, as is the Holy Spirit
that God has given to those who obey him. [Acts 5:29-32]
Over time, this flame of fire becomes more mature, profound, and hotter. It is a flame of divine life and continues to transform the soul. As St. John of the Cross explains, this fire cauterized and wounds in order for the soul to become a living flame of love in which the soul melts within itself so only He resides within. But to get there and expand the tent of our inner beings for the Sweet Guest of our souls, we must visit and revisit the charcoal fire in the room of the self-knowledge of prayer, as well as in the sacrament of Reconciliation.
Brothers and sisters, let us run to the charcoal fire, the anthrakia, to bind up our wounds and heal our broken hearts [See Ps 147:3]. Let us entrust ourselves to Jesus by looking at His Face, confessing our sins while gazing into His eyes, and opening up our minds, hearts, eyes, ears, hands, souls, mouths, and spirits to Him. He forgives us and calls us foward to continue in this journey of Divine Love, and to ultimately be transformed into the wood itself, so that we can call out with the bride, "My heart grew hot within me, and a certain fire was enkindled' [Psalm 39:3].
St. Peter, Prince of the Apostles...Pray for us.
