For today’s question I’d invite you to complete a well-known saying. At least I think it’s well-known. The saying I’d like you to complete begins like this: “It ain’t over until … ‘’ or if you prefer the full version: “The opera ain’t over until …”
That’s right. “…until the fat lady sings.” “It ain’t over until the fat lady sings.” Have you ever wondered where that saying comes from? I was sure it had something to do with Kate Smith, who always ended her programs by singing “God Bless America.” (How many of you remember Kate Smith?) Or maybe it had something to do with the idea that every opera seems to end with a rotund soprano singing a song, while undergoing a long death scene.
Well, to be sure, I asked our daughter, who is a reference librarian at the San Antonio public library. She knew the answer even without checking; but she found a written reference anyway, in a book entitled: “Nice Guys Finish Seventh.” The saying about the “fat lady” is usually attributed to Dick Motta, a basketball coach who used it in the late seventies about the Washington Bullets. But he got it from Dan Cook, a San Antonio sportscaster, which is why our daughter knew who should be credited with the expression.
However, when she did her research, she found the original saying goes back to the early fifties and central Louisiana where it was said: “Church ain’t out ‘till the fat lady sings.” Now fortunately, things are a little bit different here at Christ the Good Shepherd. But the basic question is still valid: if not about church and operas, it’s still valid about life in general.
How do you know when a major event is over? Or getting around to today’s gospel reading: how do you know when Easter is over? And what happens now? Peter had this problem. How do you know when everything that really matters in life is now over? Completed. Finished. And then what?
For Peter, he thought that everything was over on that cold night when he stood warming his hands at the bonfire in the courtyard of the high priest. It was then that he had denied knowing his friend, and his Lord, not once, but three times. He had denied his friend and left him to die on the cross. He had run away. Surely, for Peter, everything had ended. There could be nothing worse. But there was.
It happened when Mary Magdalene came running back with the news that the tomb where they had buried Jesus was now empty. Someone had stolen his body. When Peter, himself, peered into the empty tomb, he was sure it was now over. All the dreams of the kingdom had vanished away there in the empty tomb. Now Peter was positive that everything had truly ended.
But then there was that evening in the upper room, when it seemed that perhaps it was not yet over. That evening when Jesus suddenly appeared among them even though the doors had been locked. And a week later when Jesus appeared for the second time.
But then there was nothing more. Jesus had not returned again. Everything was, indeed, over. And so Peter and his fishermen friends returned north to Galilee and the sea where it had all begun. They returned to do what they had always done. To fish. To carry on where they had so abruptly left off when they heard that first call of Jesus. Here on the sea, they might be able to forget all that might have been, to forget dreams of the Kingdom of God. Until …
Until that daybreak when they heard another voice calling to them in the morning mist. When in the light of the rising sun, they recognized their Lord who now invited them to another meal, a breakfast of fish and of broken bread. Yet, Peter found that it was still not over. His friend asked him a question: the most important question that anyone could ask: “Do you love me?” And Peter replied: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And Jesus said: “Feed my lambs.”
It was still not over. A second time, the same question was asked: “Do you love me?” And the same answer given: ”Yes, lord, you know that I love you.” And Jesus said: “Tend my sheep.” And it was still not over. A third time, the same question, the same response. And the same command: “Feed my sheep.”
Perhaps it was then that Peter realized it is not enough merely to say: “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” It is not enough merely to speak the words. Now he knew it is time to demonstrate that love. Now is the time to carry on the work that Jesus had started. Now is the time to realize that the task Jesus started is never “over.” Our journey into the kingdom is never completed. That to love Jesus means that we must feed his lambs, tend his sheep.
Now is the time for us to recall that the last words spoken by Jesus the Lord in today’s gospel are these: “Follow me.” Now is the time to recall that it is not over until we hear: “… the voices of every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea; everything in the universe singing …. To the one seated on the throne, and to the lamb, be praise and honor, glory and might, for ever and ever!” And to this, our only possible response is: … so be it … “Amen.”
Third Sunday of Easter; April 26, 1998
Acts 5:27-32, 40-41; Rev 5:11-14; Jn 21:1 -19