Shepherd > Sheep > Shepherd - Easter 4C

Psalm 23
Saint John 10:22-30 & 21:15-19

At the Tuesday Morning Bible Study I attend one of the members wondered about the effectiveness of street preachers.

I must confess that, as yet, I haven’t spent enough time in Aurora to have run into any but I am sure they are there.  In downtown Chicago it is impossible to walk four blocks without seeing or hearing one.

They are easy to spot with their signs that usually read something like “Repent or Die” or “The Wages of Sin is Death” and their bullhorn blasts condemning all who pass by to the fires of hell unless they embrace Jesus in the exact same way they have embraced Jesus.

My bible study friend, one of the kindest men I know, wondered if they get any takers.  He wondered if people really respond to their message.  He wondered if anybody ever went up to them and engaged in conversation.  He wondered if their efforts led to any converts. 

While everyone in the group had seen street preachers none had actually spoken to one.  They usually give them a wide berth and pass by.  If they run into one they say something like, “I’m late.  I gotta go.” Or, and I’ve never dared to use this one on anybody who was abrasive but I would love to someday, “I’m sorry, I’d like to stay and chat but I think my appendix just burst.”

I am not so sure that bellowing at people on a street corner while waving a big bible in their faces is the best way to share the faith.  

I prefer the way depicted in the picture above where one sheep says to another about the shepherd.  “What I like most about him is that he never tells you to stay in line but asks you to stay in line.” 

The fact is, beside the sheep, shepherds in Jesus day couldn’t make or even ask anybody to stay in line.  According to Fr. Raymond Brown:

To modern romantics the shepherds described [in Scripture] take on the gentleness of their flocks... In fact, in Jesus’ time shepherds were often considered as dishonest, outside the law.1

 No matter their keepers’ reputation sheep needed somebody who would care for them and these outsiders took on that responsibility.  They cared for the sheep isolated from society - keeping watch over the flock not only by night but by day.  The relationship between sheep and their shepherds was an intimate one.

Roy Howard, Pastor of Saint Mark’s Presbyterian Church in North Bethesda, Maryland once got a real lesson on sheep/shepherd relationships by a infuriated man in his congregation who insisted that sheep were not dumb.

He was offended that I would speak of sheep in such derogatory terms. (He didn’t say anything about humans.) When I told him that I was repeating what had been told to me by another farmer, who was also a member of the congregation whose family he knew well. He replied, “Huh! Well, that explains it! He is cattleman who doesn’t know a thing about sheep.” Then he said with confidence that sounded like love, “I know sheep and they know me. They do as I say, because they know who I am.”2

 That’s the kind of shepherd we have in Jesus. 

He’s is not seen as one of societies high and mighty but rather as someone who really is on the fringes.  He is a carpenter turned wandering rabbi who goes about teaching in humility about goodness and mercy.

He is not like some of the others.  He doesn’t condemn like the street preacher - telling us all the ways we have fallen short.  He encourages us.  He doesn’t tell us to stay in line.  He doesn’t even ask us to stay in line.  He shows us how to stay in line.  We listen to what he says because the way he says things makes us want to follow him.

We will go wherever he leads us because we trust him.

Think of the most peaceful place you have ever been, Jesus is there.  Think of the darkest time you have ever faced.  Jesus is there, too.  Not only does Jesus never leave our side or leave us out of his sight he never even lets us slip out of his hand.

Wouldn’t it be great if the street preachers were proclaiming that?  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if they were saying: “Did you know that somebody loves you?”  Wouldn’t it be great if the primary message coming from every church was not one of judgement but rather: “Did you know there is nothing you can do to break the bonds of God’s love?”

That’s the message of Jesus but it is a message the comes with  great responsibility.

That is why I added the end of the gospel from last week to this weeks lesson. 

Here Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him and each time Peter answers with a stronger and stronger “yes.”  Then Jesus gives him something to do:  “Feed My Sheep.” “Tend My Lambs.” 

The good shepherd has made us, his sheep, into shepherds.  We are to care for others the same way that Jesus has cared for us.

I owe this insight to a pastor friend of mine who wrote in a recent devotion for his church.

Admitting that there were times when he “struggled with issues that have seemed overwhelming and insurmountable.”

A marriage that was not working. A child with special needs. A vocation in which I felt inadequate and ill-equipped. These were the times when I felt completely alone and cried out for a Savior. But I saw no savior come in obvious or dramatic ways. It was through a counselor, a social worker at our child’s school, an inspired idea that mysteriously came at just the right time, a group of fellow strugglers who let me know I was not alone after all. And it was often during worship when my eyes were opened to the Source of all these blessings. Through a sermon preached that mysteriously spoke to exactly what I was going through; a scripture that was read; an anthem or hymn that was sung.3

My guess is that this is how most of us have had Christ come to us. 

Christ did not come in the harsh harangues of the street corner, fire-and-brimstone, preacher but by the words and deeds of other sheep who know the shepherd and who are always with us, as our shepherds not telling us what to do but always watching, always willing us to turn in the right direction.

Christ comes in those who are willing to stand with us when wait for our life’s jigsaw journeys to come together.  Christ comes to us in those times when we wander, wonder, look for inspiration and find all that we need in the words and deeds of other sheep who know the shepherd.

That’s how it works.  The gospel is transmitted from Jesus, our good shepherd, to us sheep, so that we can becomes shepherds for one another. 

From Shepherd to sheep to shepherds is a better way to tell the story of God’s ever-lasting, never-ending, ever-living love than by blasting it at innocent passers-by through a bullhorn. 

Don’t you think?
 
____________

1. Raymond E. Brown, The Birth of the Messiah: A Commentary on the Infancy Narratives in the Gospels of Matthew and Luke. (New York: Doubleday, 2008), p. 420. 

2. Roy W. Howard, "This Is the Good Shepherd" (Sermon, Saint Mark's Presbyterian Church, North Bethesda, Maryland, May 10, 2019).
 http://www.saintmarkpresby.org/wp-content/uploads/2011/09/JOHN-10.2011.pdf

3.  David S. Handley, "Revelation 5:11-14," Daily Devotions, May 7`, 2019, , accessed May 11, 2019, http://www.fourthchurch.org/devotions/2019/050719.html.

Gone Fishin' - Easter 3C

Saint John 21:1-14

This may surprise you but one of this highest rated cable networks does not feature talking heads screaming at each other but rather “countdowns”.  In addition to “Countdown to Christmas” and “Countdown to Valentines Day” they also have mysteries such as (and I am not making this up) “Murder, She Baked,” “Morning Show Mysteries” and “Fixer Upper Mysteries.”  What we are talking about here is The Hallmark Channel.

 In the midst of television mayhem it is a pleasant place to be and I much confess that in troubled times I find myself turning to it more and more.  I like to because I know that no matter what I am watching everything will turn out fine in the end.  The answer to every promo on the channel is always “Yes.”

 “Will the woman who goes to Paris to start a vineyard and a man who is rebelling against his father who owns a winery fall in love?”  “Yes!”  “Will the local baker find the killer in her community with the help of a police detective who is also her love interest?”  “Yes!”  “Will the couple who buys houses, fixes them up, and sells them find love in the lumber yard?”  “Yes”  

 (Come to think of it all these promos need is a voice over by Marv Albert.  “Love from the three point line?  Yes!”)

 The feeling may come when we get the occasional glimpse of what could be but then look around and say to ourselves “as things were so shall the ever be, you can’t change nothing in this world.”

 The feeling may come when we have tried and tried our very best and still come up short.  It is then we may want to give up and give in, on a job, a relationship, even our future by just announcing that we’ve “gone fishin’”.

That is exactly what the disciples did.  They trudged back to exactly the same thing they were doing before Jesus called them to be his followers.

  

 They had a wonderful ride with him.  They heard some great ideas on how the world should be and saw things that were miraculous.  They were feeling that, like in a Hallmark movie, everything was going to be alright.  Then their friend who they tied their whole lives to had gone and gotten himself killed.

 The period of time for them that we commemorate with real Hallmark Easter cards was one of total confusion.  Jesus, keeps popping in and out of their lives.  A little of him here, a little there.  If he would stay in one spot everything would be fine but his buzzing about is more than a little upsetting.

 So they go back to the business they knew best - fishing.  This people fishing stuff didn’t seem to have much of a future to it so they go back to fish fishing.  It seemed like the reasonable thing to do.  It fits their skill set.

Now they are even having trouble even in their former trade.  They fish all night and come up with nothing.  They can’t even seem to get “going fishin” right.  Their empty nets must have seemed to them like a symbol for what they felt.  They must have felt like total failures unable to do something they knew how to do.   There is a real danger here that their failure may become permanent.  

 It’s that way for us too.  It comes in those moments when we have tried to make things better and have come up empty.  When even “going fishin” doesn’t seem to be working we may be tempted to ask ourselves who was I to believe that anything could change?  Who was I to think I could make a difference?  Who was I to think that it would be different this time?”  When we begin to think that failure will be permanent and that it will never get any better than this we scare ourselves stuck.1

 That is where the disciples were.  They were stuck on a boat, on a lake, with nothing to show for a nights worth of work.

 It is then that Jesus appears to them but only as a figure on the beach.  I think they didn’t recognize him because they were still staring at their empty nets and thinking about what failures they were.  It is only when they wiped the sorrow from their eyes and looked up could they hear him say, in one of my favorite paraphrases: “Any fish, boys?”2

 They have to admit that they have “gone fishin” and have caught nothing.

Then in almost a minute by minute, word for word, recreation of their original call in Saint Luke’s Gospel Jesus suggests that instead of being stuck they try another strategy.  He merely suggests that they might be fishing in the wrong spot.  He suggests that they move their nets to another spot and, wonder of wonders, they do!

Some people I know who love fishing tell me that this may be Jesus’ biggest post-resurrection miracle.  Based on the premise that “you can always tell a fisherman but you can’t tell them much” they contend that getting the disciples to listen and take his advice to move their nets was a huge miracle.  To get seasoned fisherman to admit that they might have been wrong about anything and give into someone else’s idea is big stuff indeed.  

When they do as their told and their nets are almost breaking someone calls out, “It is the Lord.”  Pandemonium ensues as the weight of all the fish in nets almost causes them to break.  Peter is leaping  through the water and the disciples are dragging their catch ashore.

 Over all the commotion Jesus invites them to come and have breakfast.  Jesus gives these tired, hungry, disciples who have “gone fishin” on him and maybe even the rest of their futures exactly what they need.

This is not a gourmet meal at Joe’s Seafood and Stone Crab, or Shaw’s, or even Red Lobster.  This is only some broiled fish and some  bread but coming from the hands of the Jesus, the master chef, it is more than enough to get them back on their feet and back on their journey.  It is enough to get them unstuck.

Easter is not a Hallmark movie.

 If we think that Easter and the risen Christ means that Jesus has erased all discouragement, frustration and failure from our world and from our lives, we will be sorely disappointed.  We will remain scared and stuck.  While we may go fishing on Jesus, Jesus will never go fishing on us.

When we are tempted to shrug our shoulders, walk away from his resurrection and go back to our everyday routines, Jesus will be there.  The promise of all the resurrection appearances is that even in the midst of our failures, Jesus shows up and gets us moving again.3

All we have to do is to look up from the empty fishing nets and see where Jesus is and then be willing to move to the place where Jesus wants to meet us so that he can give us exactly what we need, exactly when we need it.

 It’s not quite a Hallmark movie but for real life, real faith, real encounters with Jesus, it will have to be enough.  Because for those of us who have looked up and seen him, it is more than enough. 

Don’t you think?

____________

1.  Michael Bos. "Where Do I Go from Here?" Sermon, Sunday Morning Worship, Marble Collegiate Church, New York, New York, April 28, 2019.

2.  Saint John 21:5.  (TLB) [TLB=The Living Bible]

3.  William H. Willimon, "Fishing, Failure, and a Future" Sermon, The Third Sunday of Easter, Year 3, Richmond, Virginia, May 4, 2019, May 1, 2019, accessed May 4, 2019, https://www.dropbox.com/s/zj9bma4dk75uohd/Will Willimon, John 21.pdf?dl=0.

"Doubting or Faithful" - Easter 2C

Saint John 20:19-31

I cannot imagine what it would be like to have my name mentioned specifically in a Sunday confession of the church.  I would be mortified!

I have enough trouble with the general confessions that we say every Sunday which remind me that I have sinned in “thought word and deed.”  That is general enough not to cause too much anxiety but when we get to something more specific like “we have not loved our neighbor as ourselves” I get more antsy.

You probably can breeze through all this without any problem  but I think of the shouting match I had with my real neighbor last week.  I think of the times I have yelled at my friends.  And please, don’t even mention the things I have said to people while driving!

The good thing is I have never been called out by name but poor Thomas has.

In the church we worshiped in on Palm Sunday here is what was said about him in the confession no less: “Thomas, servant of doubt, where are you?”  And we were all supposed to respond: “I am here!”1

How would you like to be known as a “servant of doubt”?  Sure, there are times when we all have doubts that creep in every once and awhile but we are not their servants.  On the contrary we’d like to get rid of them as soon as possible and get back to making this uncertain life as certain as possible.

Poor Thomas is forever stuck with the moniker “servant of doubt”. But what if he isn’t?  What if this whole episode is not about doubt but faithfulness?
The only thing Thomas is guilty of is absence on that first Easter evening when Jesus made one of his appearances to the whole group of disciples.  They were all gathered together but Thomas is not there.

Perhaps he got tired of the endless speculation about what happened.  Perhaps he was as confused - as we can sometimes be - by all the stories of resurrection encounters with Jesus.  Perhaps he was just tired of staring at the wallpaper and wondering what to do.  Perhaps he needed a breath of fresh air.  We don’t know what Thomas was doing. All we know for certain is that he wasn’t in the room when Jesus made his grand re-entry into the disciples’ lives.

Upon his return all Thomas does is wonder if what his friends are saying is true.

Remember, what they are telling him is that his friend Jesus who was stone cold, definitely dead a few days ago is running around making guest appearances to everybody Thomas knows.  Everybody that is but him. 

We’ve been celebrating Easter for all of our lives and while the story has not lost one bit of its power hearing it for the very first time must have been an entirely different matter.  This is not something that is taken in easily and Thomas is not sure he can believe it just based on word of mouth.

It is then, I believe, that faithfulness begins to appear.  It is visible and invisible.  Faithfulness is there in what is done and left undone.
The disciples who were there do not try to persuade Thomas that they are right and he is wrong.  They do not berate him for being gone when the big moment came.  They don’t even doubt the sincerity of his doubt.  They just keep the faith for him and isn’t that what we do?

I am sure that there were lots of people who came to this church last Sunday that we won’t see again until Christmas.  Where I used to attend we called them “CEO’s” for “Christmas and Easter Onlys.” 

We may wish they were here every Sunday.  We wish they would walk with us and discover that there is more to this Jesus guy than a manger full of baby and a tomb full of empty but they have decided that twice a year is plenty. 

Our job is to do for them what the disciples did for Thomas.  We are to keep the faith for them so that when they need it, when they want to have a real experience with Jesus, a place and a people will be there for them to do just that.

That is what the disciples did for Thomas and that is our work in the world - to remain faithful.

Thomas didn’t just doubt.  He hung around.  This is the second invisible moment in this story that we miss.

Thomas didn’t listen and dismiss the other’s story as being out of hand.  He didn’t say, “Ah, you’re nuts!” or “What have you been smoking?”  He stays with his community.  Even amid his doubts he sticks with his friends.  He lets their certainty buoy up his uncertainty. 

We do that for each other too.  In difficult times when those doubts begin to creep in, at our best, we are there for each other with a word of reassurance that all is not lost and God is not finished.  We can say this because of the faithfulness of Jesus. 

If you don’t remember anything else I say this morning remember this: Jesus was faithful too.  Jesus never gave up on Thomas! 

Jesus could have responded: “All right then, don’t take your friends word for it.  Don’t listen to them for all I care.”  He could have even said, “Listen I’m not going to subject myself to your cockamamie tests.  Either believe or don’t believe but don’t you be poking me.”

Instead Jesus says: “Whatever you need Thomas.  Poke, prod, ask, talk, do whatever you want.  While your doubts may have rocked your faith a little  I have never lost faith in you.”

It is then that the doubter, the one we have mistakenly labeled “the servant of doubt” makes “the supreme christological pronouncement of the Fourth Gospel” when he says: “My Lord and my God!”  This confession, this acclimation, these words go far beyond any titles bestowed anywhere else in the Gospels.  The greatest doubter has become the greatest believer.

As you know we follow a three year cycle of readings called the lectionary.  Very few stories appear more than twice, most only once but every year like clockwork on the second Sunday of Easter we have Thomas. 

As the sound of the trumpets have died out, as the crowds have returned to their normal size, there is the story of Thomas because he is us.

Sometimes we doubt.  Sometimes we believe.  Faith is a struggle.  It waxes and wanes.  Faith is sometimes strong and sometimes weak.

In this story we hear Jesus tell us.  “Yes, you weren’t there to see my miracles first hand but here you are in church anyway faithfully working your way through your doubts and opening your eyes to faith.”

When that moment comes and faithfulness triumphs over doubt maybe we will be able to say with Thomas - perhaps in a shout, perhaps only in a whisper - “My Lord and my God.”  And we’ll no longer be servants of doubt but servants of faith. 

Thanks for listening.

Sermon preached at Our Saviour Lutheran Church

Aurora, Illinois

28 April 2019