Sermon Tone Analysis

\\ /15 //When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “*Simon* son of John, *do you truly love me more than these*?”

/

/“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.”

/

/Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”

/

/16 //Again Jesus said, “*Simon* son of John, do you truly love me?” /

/He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

/

/Jesus said, “*Take care* of my sheep.”

/

/17 //The third time he said to him, “*Simon* son of John, do you love me?” /

*/Peter was hurt/*/ because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?”

He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.”

/

/Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.

18 I tell you the truth, when you were younger you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” 19 Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God.

Then he said to him, “Follow me!” /

/20 //Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them.

(This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, “Lord, who is going to betray you?”) 21 When Peter saw him, he asked, *“Lord, what about him?”* /

/22 //Jesus answered, *“If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?

You must follow me.”*

23 Because of this, the rumor spread among the brothers that this disciple would not die.

But Jesus did not say that he would not die; he only said, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you?” /

/24 //This is the disciple who testifies to these things and who wrote them down.

We know that his testimony is true.

/

/25 //Jesus did many other things as well.

If every one of them were written down, I suppose that even the whole world would not have room for the books that would be written.

//John 21:15-25 (NIV)*[1]*/

 

It’s another one of those childhood pictures etched in my mind.

It’s not that it’s particularly traumatic but it’s just stuck there.

In many ways, I have a gallery of such pictures that mean something to me.

Many of them, in one way or another, have affected the way that I live my life, the way that I parent, the deepest values that I hold.

My Dad was in control when I was growing up.

I feared him as much as I loved him maybe sometimes more.

I understood the rules, they were simple.

¨      Do what you were told to do.

¨      Never show disrespect.

Rule #1 was all-encompassing.

It was not contingent on my agreement.

It didn’t matter if I disagreed or not.

It was not contingent on my understanding.

Normally I would be given an explanation – no argument or defense – just an explanation.

And I was told to do something once – that’s all.

After that, things got nasty.

So I complied.

I wasn’t always happy about it, often it didn’t make sense but I complied.

And rule #2?

To fail to comply here was akin to a death wish.

If I ever raised my voice to my parents, I was in deep trouble.

But I learned to respect people.

This one is knife-etched in my psyche.

It’s one of the most valuable lessons that a person can ever learn.

So I found myself one day at my aunt’s house.

She was rigid lady, cut from the same genetic cloth as my father.

As my father was in charge in our home so his sister was in charge in hers.

We were there for dinner and I was given one simple reminder prior to our going.

“Eat everything that is put on your plate.”

There was nothing negotiable about this.

We were rabbit and potato people or partridge and potato people or venison and potato people.

I never had pizza until I was in the 12th grade.

My aunt put things on our plate that day that I had never seen before.

Green leafy things that weren’t cooked and strange colored eggs.

Tossed salad, I think it was – my first experience – and she put raw onions in it.

It would be tossed allright.

I wanted to go home.

Someone prayed out loud – I prayed to myself.

“Lord Jesus, please keep this strange food from my plate.”

But I remembered the rule.

The explanation went something like, “There are kids starving to death overseas.”

I wanted to send this food overseas.

I wasn’t sure that kids overseas would like some of this stuff any more than I did but I wanted them to have this food.

I didn’t want them to starve.

I’d have been okay if it weren’t for those onions.

And my aunt, concerned for my health heaped an ample supply on my plate.

I thought I’d never get through that meal.

Fork after fork of that awful stuff.

I’d try to swallow against the gag reflex.

My eyes were watering.

I held my breath while I was chewing and chased it quickly with water.

Nothing was working.

My Dad kept one eye slightly, menacingly raised and trained on me.

He never said a word but I knew that he would kill me if I didn’t put away the meal.

That was the longest most painful meal that I have ever endured.

I don’t do that to my kids – most people don’t when it is done to them.

Sometimes I think that I should.

For most of us there are hard things to swallow.

Things that just don’t go down easily.

I remember being on the road singing for Bethany Bible College with Steve Moore, Gary Hicks and Ross Demerchant.

We were in Doaktown and being served a huge supper.

The dear lady had worked hard to fix a meal for us and she put something particularly disagreeable on our plates.

Ross decided to attack it with a vengeance and get it over with quickly.

She interpreted the speed of consumption as voracious appetite and a fondness to what he had just eaten.

Before he could say a word she reached out and refilled his plate.

You should have seen the look on his face.

In the scripture that we read today we find Jesus at the outdoor table with several of his disciples.

Another meal together.

At the last Jesus had washed their feet, the role of a servant.

This time he was the cook.

The fish was well prepared and I am sure that they all ate well.

The main course however was not so agreeable for Peter.

He choked his way through it and it didn’t go down easy.

For that day on the beach Peter was served the most disagreeable of all dishes.

He revisited his failure, his denial and Jesus made him eat it all – every idle word, every prideful declaration, every hastily made promise.

Really it was leftovers.

Leftovers from a night of terror and agony.