All God's Sheep

John 21:15-19            When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.’ (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, ‘Follow me.’

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There was a time when I did someone wrong and knew the shame of it afterwards.  I didn’t know if I would ever be able to face that person again; I wanted to crawl in a cave and never come out.  But I knew life would require me to get out and be among people again, carry on with work and the other tasks of life.  I knew also that I would very likely have to face that person again, because our lives intersected with each other.  I just didn’t know how I would ever do it.

I think that Simon Peter must have felt something like that.

It hadn’t been that long since he had done a terrible deed – he had denied his teacher, Jesus, at the most critical time.  After Jesus had been taken away to be tried and then executed, someone said to Peter, “You’re one of the men who was with him, weren’t you?” “No,” Peter said, “No, I’m not!” 

Another person approached him and said, “Yes, I think I saw you with him,” but Peter repeated, “No, I was not.  I do not know him.”  A third person said, “I know you were one of them who was with him.”  Peter cried out, “I do not know the man!”

The worst part of all was that Jesus knew – he just knew – that Simon Peter would do that.  It was pathetically inevitable.

Now Jesus was back, from the grave, back among his disciples.  None of them understood how or why, but they knew they had been given an incredibly precious gift – to be with their teacher, their Lord, their friend once again.  But I am sure that Peter, at least, felt some shame.

Jesus had come to them on the evening of that first day, as they were gathered in their locked room.  Peter lay low that night; not a word was heard from him – which is unlike him, we know. 

Jesus returned to them a week later. Again, Peter kept a low profile and let Thomas, the Doubter, absorb most of the attention.  Let Thomas feel some shame for a change.  Then Jesus appeared to them again on that early morning while they were out fishing, and a voice from the shore guided them to the other side of the boat, where they would haul in a load of fish so great it nearly burst the nets.  “It is the Lord,” one of the men said to Peter.  And when Peter saw this was true, he put on his clothes, because he was naked. 

I always thought that was such a strange detail.  I hadn’t imagined Peter to be the naked fisherman before that moment.  But I wonder this: if he was comfortable working among his peers, naked as the day he was born, why did he feel so uncomfortable in Jesus’ presence that he had to cover himself?

He jumped in the water, while the other men brought the net full of fish in and brought the boat to shore.  They carried some fish to shore, made a fire, and shared a meal together as friends.  And the moment for the encounter had arrived.

Some people say it is impossible to break bread with enemies.  You might start out with anger or tension between you, but when you sit at table together, reconciliation is the only way to share bread and cup.   And this is what happened on the beach that day.  Jesus offered bread and forgiveness; Peter accepted.

But the gestures were not enough.  Words would be necessary also.  Again, Jesus took the lead.

“Simon, son of John, do you love me more that these?”  And here was an opportunity for Simon Peter to make up for his error.  “Yes, Lord, you know I love you,” he said.  Behind these words may have been a hundred other words:  I’m sorry, forgive me; I hate myself for what I did to you.  I was tired I was afraid, I was confused – but this is no excuse; I was wrong.  I love you and I’m ready to forget this whole embarrassment.  Thank you, Jesus.  Thank you.

But all he said was I love you.  And Jesus replied, “Feed my lambs.” 

And then he asked again, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”  And Peter was surprised at the repetition, a second time he would have to declare his love?  But he simply said again, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” 

“Then tend my sheep.”

And one more time – a third time – he asked, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”  And Peter felt crushed by the weight of his sin and his debt to Jesus.  Would he ever be freed from the burden of his betrayal?  Would his teacher, his Lord, his friend, ever have faith in him again?  With a heavy heart Peter answered, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”  And Jesus replied, “Then feed my sheep.”

Feed my sheep. 

And perhaps it was only at this moment that Simon Peter heard what Jesus was saying to him.  Perhaps it was only in the repetition that Peter was able to understand the meaning of his forgiveness and the meaning of this love he had three times declared.  Perhaps only now could Peter see both the gift and the charge he had been given.

Feed my lambs; tend my flock; feed my sheep.  Three ways of saying to Peter this is what it means to love me – love the ones I love.  All of them.  Feed my lambs; tend my flock; feed my sheep.

Care for them – the youngest to the oldest, the silliest to the wisest, the healthiest to the sickest. 

Love them – the tiny insecure flocks and the largest most self-important flocks.  These are the ones I love and I ask you to love them too.

This is what love is: you don’t pay it back, but you pay it forward.  This is what forgiveness is: you don’t dwell in the past, but you move into the future.  This is what reconciliation is: you don’t let shame create a barrier between us, but you bare your heart and soul to the hearts and souls of all my people and together you create my church.

It had to be Peter who rejected him three times, and it had to be Peter who affirmed his love to him three times and who received the charge that is Christ’s charge to his church: Feed my lambs, tend my flock, feed my sheep.  It had to be Simon Peter, the rock on whom Christ’s church is built, because through him, through the church, we are invited to profess our love for Jesus and receive our charge to tend to Christ’s sheep. 

Do you love him?  Then show your love by loving the little lambs – the ones who sing for us and the ones who refuse to sing; the babes in arms who cry loudly enough to disrupt the sermon; the children who won’t sit still and the ones who ask too many questions.

Do you love him?  Then show your love by tending the sheep – the ones who sulk and don’t want to play the game according to our rules; the ones whose idea of a good time in worship is very different from our idea of a good time in worship; the ones who are not at all sure they want to make a commitment to the institution that belongs to their parents and grandparents. 

Do you love him?  Then show your love by feeding all the sheep – the ones who are longstanding members of our own flock and the ones who stand outside, unsure if there is a flock who will care for them.  Feed his sheep.

He said it once, he said it twice, he said it three times. Show your love to me by loving the ones I love.  Love is the hardest thing of all, but it is the only thing that makes a difference.

Love him.  Love his sheep, here, there, and everywhere.  And teach them to love as we have been taught to love – in Jesus’ name.  Amen.