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Feed My Sheep John 18 and 21 Introduction to the reading from John 18 Of the twelve disciples, Peter is usually the one that we like the best. Not because he was heroic and virtuous, the guy who is always strong and wise and kind and good-looking too. No, we like him because he is like us. We like him because while he is enthusiastic, he's often wrong; while he is committed to following Jesus, he can fall far short of his ideals. No more so than in the first part of today's reading. It is the evening of Jesus' trial. Peter had been with Jesus when he was arrested in the Garden of Gethsemene. In fact in a show of brave defense Peter had drawn his sword, and in what turns out to be a moment of comic relief he take a swipe - NOT a soldier or a guard, as one might imagine, but AT some poor servant there along for the ride. Peter loped off his ear! Not very good with a sword, our hero Peter! I see him sheepishly and awkwardly sheathing his sword, while Jesus, shaking his head, puts the man's ear back. Peter then follows Jesus at a distance as the guards take him off. And while he is being questioned, and beaten, inside, Peter is outside in the courtyard, warming himself by a fire. And he is given three wonderful opportunities to, as the old Gospel song has it, to "stand up for Jesus!" Listen to what he did. [The first reading] Three times Peter denies even knowing Jesus. And he felt horrible about it. He went out and wept. A few days later Peter and the boys are out fishing. Rumors are about that Jesus is back - back from the dead, that is. For since Peter's denial that we just heard, Jesus has been crucified and buried. But, as I say, rumors are about. Peter and the others see a man on the shore. He looks a lot like Jesus, but they can't be sure. "Catching anything?" the stranger calls from shore. "Try on the other side of the boat," he says. They do, and they have a huge haul of fish. It must be Jesus. On shore, Jesus makes them breakfast. And then he takes Peter aside and they take a little walk, this risen Jesus and the man who a few days earlier had sworn that he didn't even know him. [The second reading] ' If you were here last November 13th you know that we had a very unusual Sunday worship service. On that day you heard not one, but three separate stories from the Bible. And you were asked to think about each one, writing your responses on paper and talking briefly with those seated around you. The three stories were chosen by our Holy Conversations strategic planning task force. They were looking for help in finding a single story that said something important about us as a church. We were looking for a story that would symbolically reflect who we are - our faith, our service, our relationships with each other and our community, our strengths, our weaknesses - and a story that perhaps would ask questions of us. The three stories were the one we just heard, the story of the call of the prophet Samuel, and the story of the coming of the Spirit on the day of Pentecost. You all worked very hard that morning, and did a wonderful job thinking about each text. The task force took all 97 sheets of your responses that were turned in that day, collated them, and read them carefully. And we thank you for your thoughtful insights. And while one of the stories seemed to be the one that most of you would pick to be the story for the Holy Conversations process, there were valuable insights, and good questions that you saw in each of the stories. And so before we let two of them go, we wanted to re-visit all three, to lift up from each what you found in it. So today we look again at our friend Peter; next week we hear the story of Samuel's call, and Eli's difficulty in hearing that call; and on the 22nd of January we will look at the story of Pentecost, the birthday of the church. But today, Simon Peter. Saint Peter, we call him now. The first Bishop of Rome, the first Pope, millions around the world call him that today. Bu t back then he was just fisherman named Peter. And in this little encounter between a discouraged, embarrassed Peter - he had just denied Jesus not once, not twice, but three times - Peter is restored - forgiven, and not only that, commissioned by Jesus to his life's work. I invite us to look at the story on three levels today. First, on the level of the relationship between Peter and Jesus - what did this encounter mean for them way back in the first century? Second, let us think about what the passage might mean for us today, as individuals. "Do you love me? . . . Ralph, Bob, Sue, Tim, Jeff, Laura, Marilyn, Pat, Cindy, Chris . . . ?" And then the third level: As a church, this church, where do we see ourselves reflected in the story? What questions might God have for us as a faith community? The first level. We can imagine what this conversation with Jesus must have done for Peter that day. Remember that his hopes for the coming of God's Kingdom had been dashed, the one he thought to be the long-awaited Messiah crucified. He's back to his fishing trade. A few days earlier he thought he might be the leader of the movement, Jesus' right-hand man, the "greatest" of the disciples, or close to it. He had dreams for himself, Peter did, for he was strong and full of faith . . . a little too quick to speak and slow to think, perhaps, but he surely thought he had "the right stuff" to lead the way. Until . . . that awful night when, just as Jesus had predicted, he threw it all away. He was afraid that night. He lost his nerve; he failed the test. "I don't know him," he said again and again and again. Imagine his nervousness now as the risen Jesus takes him aside, and they stroll down the beach. Imagine his embarrassment, his shame; he hasn't seen Jesus since he had denied him. What was Jesus going to say to him after his monumental failure? The question is asked; a question that at first Peter may have answered without thinking: Do you love me? You know I do. A second question, the very same one, must have caused Peter to think, Why is he asking me that again? Do you love me? A little more deliberately, perhaps, he says Yes, Lord, you know I love you. But Jesus comes back a third time, Do you love me? It's as though Jesus is saying, Peter think about it this time. Do you love me, more than anything? I like to think of Peter here stopping a moment, asking himself, Well, do I love this Jesus enough to leave my fishing again? And he answers, still more firmly, Yes Lord, you know I love you. Three denials. Three affirmations. And three commands. As important - maybe more important - as Jesus' three questions are his three commands. If you love me, Peter, feed my lambs; since you love me, Peter, tend my flock; To show you love me, my friend, feed my sheep. Peter, having watched Jesus minister for three years, listening to his teaching and seeing his example, surely knew what Jesus meant. The sheep that Jesus was entrusting to Peter were the poor and the outcast - those whom the prevailing religious leaders (just like today) called sinners. The sheep of Jesus' flock were the lepers, the lost, the widows and the little children - those whom "the righteous" of that day (just like today) said had offended God. These are the sheep who followed the Good Shepherd, who gladly heard his message of good news to poor, release to the captives, freedom for the oppressed. Carrying on the ministry of Jesus - Peter understood that this was what Jesus was telling him to do. Feed my sheep. Restored and commissioned, Peter began his discipleship again. It would not be an easy job, this feeding of sheep, this imitating the ministry of Christ. Knowing the needs of the world is one thing; knowing how to meet those needs - knowing just how to feed those sheep - is usually quite another. Some two thousand years later, we struggle with that same challenge. So let us leave the first century to hear the passage again, on a second level, this time looking for ourselves as individuals in the story. Imagine Jesus not asking his three questions of Peter this time, but of me and you: Do you love me? Who, me? Love Jesus? What does that mean? Many of you in your response to the story noted that people of our tradition - our style of worship, our way of experiencing faith - we're not comfortable with that kind of language, are we? I'm not. And I grew up singing a chorus, O how I love Jesus . . . . but I can't tell you very well what that means. I - and most of us - are much more comfortable with a more intellectual faith than emotional faith. I - and most of us - are much better at religion of the mind, than of the heart. Much better at doing, than feeling when it comes to our faith. Not exclusively so, but by and large, that's who are, that's perfectly alright! Many of you said that you love Jesus by serving people. Love is shown more by how I serve others than by how I feel toward God. And that's fair enough. But even so, Jesus' question still stands for me. Do I love him? Do I serve him? And just as we are challenged by Jesus' question, we are challenged by his command: Feed my sheep. I must ask, Just who are the sheep in my world? Where are the lonely and needy in my circle of relationships, in my community? Who is being overlooked, who is it that God calls me to serve with a open heart, and an open hand? If we are each of us commanded by Jesus to serve as he did, I need to ask, who is it that I can lift up, encourage, perhaps even feed very literally - the hungry of this city? But then lastly let us think of this story of Peter and Jesus on that third level, from the point of view of a church - this church. Many of you said that you saw in this interchange between Jesus and Peter a reflection of us in that we have always been a church of outreach. It has been a place where an outgoing, active faith is what counts most to us. We have taken seriously the command over the years, feed my sheep. Think of some of the larger projects that this church has carried out or had a significant role in beginning and leading, serving the "sheep" of our time: - refugees from Viet Nam and Kurdistan, as we helped in their resettlement here - chronically mentally ill men and women in need of affordable housing (Casa Cara) - the working poor in need of owning a good home (Habitat for Humanity) - people in need of basic transportation (That's who WINR is serving.) - the growing number of people who cannot afford food for their tables (the ecumenical food pantry) These are ways we have sought to obey the command of Jesus. But while we as a church have been very successful in these and other less public efforts to minister to our city, many of you said there is more to do. You heard in that repeated question to Peter (to us) - do you love me? - you heard in that question a challenge for honest self-evaluation. Have we done all we can? Could we do more? If we say we love God by serving others, how much do we love God, in our ministries, really? You saw in the story a call to a renewed commitment to obey the Christ we say we follow. And you heard a call to self-examination as a church in the command - feed my sheep. Just who are the sheep we are to feed now, and in the coming years? Are they the children of our church, as they grow up in faith? Certainly. Are they outside of our church? Certainly too! Where are the needs of Oshkosh, today? As the "safety net" that used to be provided by us as a people through federal and state programs is dismantled, where are the "holes" in that net that we as a church can begin to mend? What groups of people are in need of our service? There are refugees among us; how can we serve them? There are growing numbers of minorities too - Hmong, Hispanics, blacks. Is God calling us to serve them? One of the questions we need to ask is, who is hurting in our community? And, having answered that, how can we aid in their healing? Our devotional guide this week focuses on the joys of "family" and "belonging." What a privilege it is to belong to family - biological or otherwise - a place of safety and acceptance and freedom! We strive as a church to be a "family" of faith - and an open one at that. No matter who you are, we say, no matter where you are on life's journey, you are welcome here! And so as we look into our future we ask, who is it in Oshkosh that is without "family?" Talk to people who work with teens and they'll tell you of kids who know nothing about being in a family. Are these the sheep that Jesus would have us feed? Who are the "spiritually homeless" - youth and adults who are not welcome in many churches, because of their race, or income, or sexual orientation? Are these the sheep Jesus would have us accept, love and care for, feed and nourish? As we continue our "holy conversations," we will ask ourselves, just how much do we love God? And if we do love God, we will ask that God, Who are the sheep you would have us feed? The Gracious One who accepts us just as we are, wherever we are, will take us to new places of service, of joy, of life made abundant because we are joining in the work of God on the earth. |
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