SermonStudio

This sermon was prepared for and preached to a seminary congregation in the chapel of Columbia Seminary in May, 1992. It was near the end of the academic year. Graduating students were taking new pastorates; many other students were going to a summer of supervised ministry or to intern years. All, in a sense, were being called to "Feed my sheep."

The sermon is a retelling of the story in John's Gospel with allusions to the stories of Jacob wrestling at the Jabbok and Peter's denial of Jesus. The hope is that the hearers will identify with Peter's struggle as he responds to Jesus' repeated question, "Do you love me?"

The conclusion is a kind of personal confession showing that the preacher identifies both with Peter's struggle to respond to Jesus as well as with that of the hearers.



"Simon, son of John; Simon, son of John; Simon, son of John."

Peter could hardly reply with naive surprise. "Oh, were you talking to me?"

"Do you love me; do you love me; do you love me?"

Like a sleepy student in a 2:00 class, Peter could hardly mumble, "Sorry, but I did not quite get the question. Would you mind repeating it?"

"Feed my lambs; tend my sheep; feed my sheep."

Peter could hardly take refuge in literalism and object. "But I'm no shepherd. I'm a fisherman by trade."

Three times three for Peter. Isn't once enough?

By that three times three repetition of name, question, and task, Peter is surrounded, hedged about, encountered by the probing, specific words of Jesus Christ. Peter may wish to play the artful dodger, but there are no back alleys for him to slip into and make his escape. If he turns one way the sound of his name pursues him. If he takes a step or two to the side the question echoes and re--echoes in his ears. If he makes an about--face - Feed. Tend. Feed - will not let him go.

It reminds me a little of Jacob wrestling at the Jabbok. Here is the muscular, persistent Jesus who will not let Peter go, not even at the break of day.

Surely Peter feels that once is enough. The text says, "Peter was grieved because he said to him the third time...." Once is understandable. Twice could be for emphasis. But three times?

The setting and the three times three, do these stir Peter's memory?

There is a charcoal fire on the beach. Peter and the others stand by the fire and warm themselves and dry out after a night of fishing. The firelight plays on Peter's rugged features. The flames seem to dance in the depths of Jesus' eyes.

Does Peter remember another charcoal fire at which he warmed himself? Does Peter remember that at that fire, too, there was a question directed to him and that the question was repeated three times? "Are you not one of this man's disciples?"

To that question Peter answered unhesitatingly, without qualification, "I am not."

As he stood and warmed himself at that other fire Peter denied his own identity - "I AM NOT A DISCIPLE." Now as this morning fire is dying out Jesus is calling his name. "Simon, son of John."

As he stood and warmed himself at that other fire Peter disclaimed his love and loyalty to Jesus. He denied that he had ever been with Jesus or even knew him. Now beside the ashy embers of a new fire Jesus asks him, "Do you love me?"

To answer the question, "Do you love me?" does not come easily for Peter. To say baldly and boldly, "I love you," without some evidence to back it up seems presumptuous. But Peter is beyond seeking to parade blustery proof. Too many times in the past he had gotten his feet tangled in his awkward efforts to prove his love and loyalty.

On the night of Jesus' arrest Peter had struck a mighty blow for righteousness and succeeded in cutting off the ear of the servant of the High Priest. Hardly a decisive victory. Jesus had responded, "Put your sword in its sheath."

At one time Peter had said to Jesus, "I will lay down my life for you," but had quailed and wept at the crowing of the cock at dawn.

This time Peter seeks to make no self--righteous claims, to offer no proof. Instead of seeking to bolster his "I love you" with evidence of his own, he rests his case upon what Jesus knows to be in his heart. "Lord, you know - you know everything; you know that I love you."

But if Jesus knows and Peter knows that he knows, then why is Jesus so persistent with the question? Is he raising doubts about Peter's loyalty? Is he trying to taunt Peter into adding adjectives, underlining the verb, and making a list of reasons?

Surely none of these! Is it not rather a gracious persistence? True, it touches the exposed, tender nerve of Peter's memory, but does it not give opportunity for healing? Do three questions and three answers - "Are you?" - "I am not" - still weigh heavily on Peter's mind? What better way to let them fade than to overshadow them with three positive answers, the chance to confess with sincerity but without swagger, "Yes, Lord, I love you ..."?

That Jesus knows that Peter speaks the truth is shown by his response, "Feed my sheep." For only one who loves the good shepherd can be trusted to tend his flock. Peter needs to understand that love is not a private matter between himself and Jesus. He needs to know that the profession is not complete when the correct words are spoken. The correct answer inevitably carries with it a commitment which Jesus makes plain and specific, "Feed my sheep."

Green pastures - still waters - the safety of the fold? Yes, sometimes. That is part of tending the sheep. But there is also the constant vigilance; the dogged faithfulness; the far pastures beyond the world; the dangers from the thief and the wolf. There is keeping on until one is bound and carried where one does not wish to go. Peter will fulfill his earlier promise, "I will lay down my life for you."

You see. The persistent Christ will not let Peter go - not even at the break of day. He binds him to himself even to death and beyond. For since it is the crucified risen Christ who says to Peter, "Follow me," that must mean to follow beyond the dawn into a new and glorious day.

I have the feeling that Peter in this story was not entirely comfortable with this persistent Christ. Nor am I sure that I am comfortable with him now.

I think I like it better when my name is not called quite so often or so specifically. I like it better when I can be a member of Christians anonymous, when I can sort of fade into the comfortableness of the corporate and be a kind of Christian in general where I don't feel any particular, sharp, individual responsibilities.

I think I would like it better if he would be satisfied with my saying once and for all, "Yes, Lord ..." and let it go at that. For if he keeps on asking the question, if he keeps on challenging me to declare my faith, then I have to ponder the implications of what I mean by my "Yes," and that makes me vulnerable.

And do I have to be reminded constantly of those blessed sheep? If he keeps on urging me to tend them and feed them then I can hardly forget that there are other sheep beyond this fold for whom I should seek; that there are those who are literally hungry whom I am supposed to feed.

Really, Lord, couldn't you let up just a little? Isn't once enough?

But while I may not be entirely comfortable with this muscular, persistent Christ - like Jacob at the Jabbok, I do not want to let him go, nor do I want him to relax his grip on me.

For if he keeps calling my name then he knows that I am here. He has not forgotten me nor given up on me. He knows who I am. I am not a faceless member of the multitude. I am - ungram--matically - ME!

If he keeps asking, "Do you love me?" then it matters to him whether I do or not, or he would not ask the question so often.

And if he accepts my repeated answer, "Yes, Lord, you know ..." that means that he accepts the incomplete love which he knows that I have for him.

If he keeps reminding me of those sheep and that I am to be a shepherd to them then he has given me his own task to do in the world. He has more faith and confidence in me than I have in myself. He trusts me.

I don't know about you, but I am grateful for this persistent Christ who will not let me go. For my memory is too short and my zeal too easily cooled for once to be enough.

For me it takes three times three - and more.

What about you?