Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach;
but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus.
Mary thought he was the gardener.
The disciples on the road to Emmaus
thought he was a newcomer.
Why didn’t they recognize him?
Because he’d been changed.
Resurrection isn’t “coming back to life;”
it’s going on to a new life. It’s transformation.
When Jesus rose, Mary reported it to the disciples.
They didn’t believe it.
They were still in an upper room, behind locked doors.
They had heard about resurrection,
but it hadn’t changed them yet.
Too often I live as if
resurrection has not actually happened.
I am still afraid, still doubting.
Still ready to go back to fishing with Peter,
back to the old life.
I don’t want to be changed. I say I do, but
there is still much I hang onto.
To be raised is to let go of everything,
everything I want to cling to, even fear,
and only love.
Am I willing?
Willing to cast my net in a different way?
Risen Jesus, draw me up out of this life
into a new one.