When it comes to following a spiritual path, making comparisons can be dangerous. While we are still in the Easter season, the final appearance of Jesus to his disciples as reported in the Gospel of John is recounted in Chapter 21. This Epilogue was added to the original text later.

Peter is feeling lost without his Teacher and Master. He decides to go fishing. This is what he knows. This is where he feels confident, competent, comfortable. He used to make his living this way. Six other of Jesus’ disciples, maybe thinking that it wouldn’t be good for Peter to go out alone, choose to go with him – whether their background is fishing or not.

They fish all night, but don’t catch a thing. At dawn, Jesus shows up on the shore and directs them to try again. They net a huge number of large fish. Jesus then invites them to a breakfast cook-out on the beach. The lesson? Peter and the others can’t go back to what was before they were called. Their commitment now is to Jesus and to this new life of proclaiming and living the gospel. 

After breakfast, Jesus takes Peter aside to initiate the process of reconciliation with him. Jesus knows that Peter is heavily burdened with shame and guilt for his cowardice and denial. By offering Peter the responsibility of shepherding Jesus’ young and growing flock, Jesus is reassuring Peter that, from his side, there is nothing between them. It’s up to Peter to let go of the past and wholeheartedly embrace what lies ahead.

Finally (John 21:18-22), Jesus lets Peter know that he will pay the ultimate price if he accepts this role of shepherding. With this warning, Jesus again calls Peter, using the same words as the first time. “Follow me.” Peter is still a bit uncertain. He turns around and happens to see the “disciple whom Jesus loved” following them at a distance. 

Peter, perhaps cloaking his own discomfort, asks Jesus, “What about that one, Lord?” Jesus answers, “If I want him to stay around until I return, why is that your concern? You are to follow me.” Peter had the choice at that moment to focus on Jesus’ call to him or on the other disciple’s path and future. We know from history that Peter chose to throw himself completely into following Jesus’ personal call.

We can get ourselves in big trouble when we try to compare ourselves with anyone else, to compare our journey with anyone else’s.Though we have much in common, we are all unique. There is no one-size-fits-all spirituality. What works for one may, or may not be helpful for another. Trying to pick a model, a holy person, a saint, a guru, even trying too hard to be like Jesus, can lead us away from our own way of holiness/wholeness.

There are as many paths as there are people. Life itself informs and reveals our way. For followers of Jesus, the way will always involve openness, freedom, compassion, love, grounded in the concrete reality we are living in this moment.

 

In Faith and Light, the international community of communities that Maria Cecília and I belong to, we often use the Post-Resurrection passage of the Road to Emmaus to help us to better “walk with” or “accompany” leaders. The Gospel of Luke (Luke 24:13-33) includes this story to address some concern in the community to whom this gospel was directed. Since we don’t have experience of that community, it’s difficult to know what they might have been struggling with.

It’s the first day of the week (Sunday), the day on which Jesus was raised from death. Two followers of Jesus are leaving Jerusalem, separating themselves from the other disciples, abandoning their community. They are probably returning to their home village of Emmaus – seven miles away. Perhaps they are a married couple, Cleopas and his wife? As they trudge along slowly, they talk, they discuss, trying to process what all had happened over the past week. To them, none of it makes sense.

Along comes Jesus, but their eyes are not able to recognize who this is. What blinds them? Certainly grief! They are so stricken that it’s nearly impossible for them to lift their eyes. Another layer that obscures their sight is disappointment, disillusionment, and quite likely, a sense of betrayal. They had left all to follow Jesus. Everything was exciting, full of promise – a whole new world was about to be born. Then Jesus was crucified. Their hopes were crushed. Life now hurts.

Jesus approaches them slowly, reverently, and asks, “What are you discussing and debating as you walk along?” They stop. Do they really want to tear open that wound again? They can’t help themselves. Cleopas responds with a bitter question, “Are you the only outsider in Jerusalem who doesn’t know what has taken place there these past few days?” Jesus replies, “What are you talking about?”

They both burst out with, “About Jesus from Nazareth, a prophet from God, who performed mighty deeds and spoke powerful words openly before all, and how our own religious leaders handed him over to the unbelievers to be condemned to death and crucified.” Here their tone of voice changes to discouragement (“But we had hoped that he was the one sent by God to redeem and restore Israel.”) and then to bewilderment (“Besides all this, now is the third day since these events. And some women from our community astounded us, having gone early this morning to the tomb where he had been buried, did not find his body. They came back with a tale of a vision of angels who said that he was alive. Others (men?) from our group went to the tomb and found it to be as the women had said, but did not see him.”)

At this point Jesus, having let them pour out their hearts, redirects their focus with a bit of light chiding, “Oh, how foolish you are, how slowly your faith moves! Think about it.” Here Jesus reminds them of a long prophetic tradition that the Messiah would undergo and pass through this kind of adversity before God’s definitive act of love could be manifested. Time passed so much more quickly with their new companion, and they arrive at their village. Jesus acts as if he is going on further down the road, but they urge him, “It’s late. Stay with us.” His words rekindled the flame in their hearts.

At their shared meal, Jesus took bread, blessed it, broke it, and handed it to them. In that familiar action, they finally recognize him. He disappears. Immediately they take to the road, even with evening coming on, and hurry the seven miles back to Jerusalem to their community, their hearts and spirits renewed, to announce that they had witnessed Jesus alive. It is here that they continued to break the bread and share from Scripture.

What did Jesus do? He gently approached the two, listened attentively while they emptied their hearts, and when they had room interiorly, he offered them a renewed and positive vision of what they were experiencing to replace the narrative they had been creating from their disappointment and pain. By reminding them of a true way to see and to interpret their experience, and by reliving a cherished ritual from their community, Jesus prepared them to rejoin their friends, restored and enlivened.