This morning we're sharing in the sacrament of Holy Communion and I'm always amazed that, in spite of the diversity of our beliefs and experiences, we still manage to be One Body in Christ. Christians make strange breadfellows! I did not say bedfellows – I said breadfellows!  We are companions on a spiritual journey, and the word companion is from two Latin words, com (which means "with") and panis (which means "bread"). The word companion literally means "with bread," or, as Webster says, "a breadfellow." Together, we are nourished by the Bread of Life, and our mission is to offer that same nourishment to others. That's what this morning's scripture is about. That's what this morning's worship service and the sharing of the sacrament are about.

After a miraculous catch of fish, Jesus tells his disciples that from now on they will be "catching people." I think we all know what that means. It means that those of us who call ourselves disciples are supposed to share with others that which has been shared with us - the bread, the strength and the nourishment, the joy and the support of spiritual fellowship. But a lot of us don't do that very well. We're shy fisherpeople, and we don't feel comfortable with the traditional language of "witnessing to our faith," or "winning souls for Christ." I suspect part of the reason mainline denominations are shrinking in membership is that we're rather reticent when it comes to sharing the Good News of what Christ means to us. Part of it is that we're not the type to knock on doors or aggressively proselytize, but it's more than that. Too often we miss the more subtle, passing moments when just a word might plant a seed, open a door, or sink the hook! It doesn't have to be that way.

I think of the woman who was playing tennis with her good but quite secular friends. In a conversation break between sets she referred to something she had read that morning. It would have been easy to say, "I read something this morning." Instead, with no attempt at piety, she simply introduced one word: "In my devotional reading this morning." It was not a major soul-winning engagement, but it sowed a seed, or at least opened a door for some further conversation. So often we think that we have to say something dramatic or profound, but more often it's simply an issue of being sensitive to another's need. Most of us have had those opportunities, and most of us carry the burden of knowing that at times we've been insensitive, that we've failed.

Peter is a symbol for Everyman in this story. The humanness he shares with you and me is revealed by how he reacts after experiencing the miracle. He's immediately aware of how unworthy he is. He says, "I'm a sinful man." The Greek word translated as "sinful" has a very general meaning in this case and may even be a class reference which referred to those who couldn't live up to the strict level of legalistic piety taught by the Pharisees. The Pharisees were so pious that even the word Pharisee refers to their separation from the common people. Peter was not that pious, and neither are we! We've all had feelings of unworthiness. The question is, what do we do with it? Do we brood and feel guilty, or do we give it to God and open ourselves to the teaching that comes to us through the feeling?

Years ago I went to a Billy Graham crusade and for a while they sent me their magazine, Decision. I still remember one of the stories I read. A woman named Carolyn told about the day Lisa showed up at her door. Lisa was strikingly beautiful, so much so that Carolyn had been warned to stay on her guard. "All the women in the neighborhood worry about their husbands when Lisa's around," was the way one woman put it. Carolyn knew immediately that something was wrong. Lisa was obviously distraught and had a look of desperation about her. Her hands shook as she told Carolyn that she needed help.

Writing about that incident nearly 40 years later Carolyn confessed a burden of regret: "I would like to say that I invited her in for a cup of soothing tea and a listening ear and witnessed to my faith, but I didn't. I'd like to say that I prayed for Lisa after she left, but I didn't. I would like to say that I followed up and checked to see how she was doing . . . but I didn't." What happened is that she told Lisa she just didn't feel qualified to help and advised her to seek counseling. Lisa left within just a few minutes - and two weeks later she committed suicide.

Now, Carolyn wasn't writing the article 40 years later because she blamed herself for Lisa's suicide, that wasn't the point. It was simply that the dramatic ending of the story still serves as a vivid reminder that we're all presented with opportunities to be a companion to someone along the way, to share something of the comfort, strength and nourishment that our faith has provided for us. But, for a whole variety of very human and completely understandable reasons, we often refuse the opportunity.

The Sacrament of Holy Communion is called Eucharist, which is Greek for "thankfulness," or "gratitude." It's a time for expressing our gratitude for God's grace. But it's more than that. It's also a time for confession and repentance, for saying "I'm sorry" for the times we've failed to share that grace with others. Most of all, it's a time of new beginnings, a time for celebrating and receiving the gift of God's grace which heals and empowers us to begin again.

Are you thankful? Do you need forgiveness? Do you need the redeeming power of Christ in order to make a new start in some area of your life? I invite you to the open table of our Lord. Christ invites you. As we gather to share the Bread of Life, let's remember that we are all companions on the way. We're breadfellows, sharing with others that which has been shared with us. In Christ's name, as Christ's Body, we gather and pray. Amen.