This stage of Eastertide always seems to me a happy one. The Paschal candle is gradually burning down but there are more and more spring flowers to adorn its base, and we have sung "alleluia" in so many different ways that the whole Liturgy has become one great song of joy. Other aspects of life are not so jolly and the community is very mindful of the anxieties and sufferings of others. Our prayerline has been besieged by more and more people begging prayers for sick family members, for the healing of broken relationships and a way out of seemingly-impossible financial situations. Now the fear of a 'flu pandemic has begun to emerge. Fear is so crippling, yet it is the daily experience of many. "Perfect love casts out fear", true, but very few of us seem to be capable of that. We want to be brave and resolute, but faced with the unknown we become alarmingly concerned about ourselves, afraid of what MIGHT happen. I suppose one can derive a kind of statistical comfort from reflecting that there can be only one of two outcomes: what we fear will come to pass, or it won't; but none of us is entirely rational all the time, thank goodness.
The post-Resurrection appearances of the Lord Jesus clearly had a disturbing element since he was quick to reassure his troubled disciples about his identity and purpose. While thinking about the latest announcement from the WHO this morning, I kept reverting to Jesus' appearance to Peter in John 21. Poor Peter, he was so scared by what might happen that he jumped into the sea to get away from his Lord. There will be some who will go to similarly extraordinary lengths to try to escape the 'flu virus. But the end of the gospel story is telling. Jesus shared breakfast with Peter, a very ordinary, human act, then won from him a three-fold affirmation of love. In return, Peter received no promise, no assurance that all would go well with him, only a job to do and a reminder that he too must submit to an experience of powerlessness. Like Peter, we have to get on with the ordinary business of life, our "breakfast on the seashore". We do not know what the future holds, but each of us has a job to do; and we know that the very hairs of our head have been numbered.