Third Sunday of Easter

Richard Davenport May 1, 2022 - Third Sunday of Easter John 21:1-19 (longer reading) The disciples certainly lived in strange times. Growing up they lived as the rest of the Jews of the day did. They looked for the Messiah. They waited and waited. They learned about the work of God growing up. They went to the temple. They knew about sacrifices and all of the promises God had made. Then one day while out fishing with dad or manning the tax collection booth or whatever they did on a normal day, the Messiah simply shows up out of the blue, taps you on the shoulder and says, "Come, follow me." It's hard to think how surreal this would be. You've literally been waiting for him all your life. Your parents, your grandparents, your great grandparents, on and on all the way back as far as anyone can remember, you've been waiting and now he's right there in front of you and he wants you to tag along while he goes off to do, well, whatever it is that he plans to do. You're not really sure. Still, you're pretty sure it'll be amazing, mind blowing. And it really is. He does things you never thought possible. He says things you're still trying to wrap your mind around years later. While he gets hungry, tired, and all of that, just like you do, he's never worried about anything. He's always in complete control. He carries himself in a way we wish we could, but never seem to manage. He never second guesses himself. He never doubts. He has complete confidence in himself and what he is doing all the time. He would truly be a sight to behold. After a while you'd have a sense of how he operates, but you'd never really know what he's going to do next. Feed thousands of people just using a little boy's lunch? Yep! Heal a bunch of unclean lepers? He'll do that too! Tell a guy who's been moldering in the tomb for a couple of days to get up and come out? Of course! All of that gets turned up a notch when you get to Holy Week. Jesus rides into Jerusalem to cheers and palm branches and then, just days later, everyone wants him dead and, contrary to everything you thought could ever happen, he gets executed in the worst way possible. That sends your head spinning and upends every concept you had for who the Messiah is and what he's supposed to do. He's the Messiah, but now he's dead. That can't possibly be right, but that's what happened. That all makes Easter morning even wilder. He's alive again?! He was dead. He definitely was in the tomb. But now here he is again. I don't know how it could happen, but it did. I guess that's what the Messiah was all about all along. Just when You'd thought you'd seen everything, he goes and does something even more amazing. Now he's out and about again, talking to people and doing amazing things. Everything he does is turned up another notch. He's bouncing around from place to place, popping in when you least expect him. Sometimes he's right there and you don't even recognize him. Still, everything is ok again and you aren't worried anymore, at least not really. Hearing the story year after year, you get accustomed to what Jesus does and how the disciples respond. You know what's coming up, even if they don't. But, when we get so familiar with the story, we also start to lose track of what's going on. If you go back and watch Jesus' ministry in fast forward, you see all of the miracles, you hear all of the teaching, you watch in wonder as he turns every Pharisee's question back on the questioner. You see him bringing God's grace and forgiveness in a new and personal way. Many things he does and says no one has ever done before. He dies and lives again. The fulfillment of all of the Old Testament prophecies has finally come to pass. For all of that, when push comes to shove, you turn your back on him. You deny him. You leave him to suffer and die alone. You abandon all of it. The Messiah the world had waited for for thousands of years was right there in front of you and you walked away from him. Maybe you didn't mean to do it. Maybe you didn't realize what you were saying or doing. Nevertheless, you did it. You left the Messiah behind to find your own path, to seek your own safety and security. But then he comes back and now what do you do? How do you live? As we heard in Luke's Passion narrative, this question becomes especially important for Peter. Jesus had specifically told him he would turn away, despite his brash confidence. Peter swore up and down he would never succumb, but Jesus was right, as always. Though Peter was singled out a bit, the warning was for all of the disciples. They would all leave. They would all give in to fear and leave the Savior of the world behind to die alone. Without the disciples to give us perspective, we also lose sight of how to answer these questions in our own lives. Jesus discussed with the disciples earlier, back in Matthew 18, the need to help those who believe and yet are in danger of walking away from the faith. Here Jesus himself is taking on that role, telling Peter ahead of time what will happen in order that his conscience might be convicted and that he would turn from his sin. As much as we might hope, as might as we might convince ourselves that we can do it better, that if Jesus were standing right here in front of us we'd never turn away, it simply isn't true. The cares and concerns of this world are always pulling at us, Satan is out there with all of the fishing lures he can find, looking for the one that will tempt us away from the safety of our Lord. Sometimes that lure is pleasure, sometimes comfort, sometimes riches, sometimes, as in the case of the disciples, it is safety and protection. The same dangers the disciples faced are the ones we face. Keeping quiet, covering up our faith in the hopes that no one sees it, treating God as if he can't protect us after all, looking elsewhere for all of the things we think we must have. The same Jesus who goes to the cross to die for Peter, James, John, and all the rest of the disciples goes to that cross for you and our treatment of him is no different. Are we more educated than the disciples? Are we more pious? More holy? More righteous? Are we any more likely to withstand the temptations thrown at us by Satan? Are we free of the fear of bodily harm, harm to our reputations, harm to our relationships? Are we free from the fear of death? Jesus doesn't specifically tell you or I that we will deny him three times before the rooster crows, but we can hardly say running away from God is an isolated event. We are disciples of Christ too, and we are right there along with them. God is constantly trying to call us to him and we are constantly running away. Looking at it from Jesus' perspective, we are the worst of the worst. All of us claim to be his disciples, his followers. All of us bear his name. Running away from him after all he has done for us. He shouldn't want anything more to do with us. You think about what would happen if you did that to anyone else and what the result would be. I've never known someone who rejected someone else and left them for dead, so I can only imagine the kind of hurt and anger that would fester there. Why should Jesus be any different? Looking at why Christ went to the cross and then how we treat him in spite of that, we all should be ashamed. This is why our extended scene with Peter is so important. Putting ourselves in Jesus' shoes and the whole situation with Peter looks terrible, even more, it looks unforgivable. Peter's brashness drove him to declare without hesitation that he would be right be Jesus' side to the very end. Jesus told him it wouldn't happen, but Peter forged ahead anyway, holding on to his pride, unwilling to entertain any notion that he might abandon his Lord, despite what Jesus tells him plainly. But he does exactly as Jesus said. Just when his Teacher, his Lord, his friend, needed him most, Peter left. There's not really anything Peter can do to fix the hurt. The damage is done. Jesus feels the hurt. He knows he has every right to be angry, to seek justice for what has been done to him, in spite of his warnings. We see here what Jesus thinks is important. It isn't nursing that anger, stoking the flames of rage, basking in the satisfaction of well-deserved retribution. What is important to him is Peter. He speaks to Peter personally, individually. He says, "Peter, do you love me?" not because Jesus wonders or because he doesn't know, but because he wants Peter to verbalize it for his own sake, to not hide himself away out of fear. Jesus comes to him offering forgiveness, to rebuild the relationship that was broken. Peter ran off to hide in shame, but Jesus has tracked him down. It reminds me of the end of the beloved Psalm 23, which says, "Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the LORD forever." That "following" almost sounds like God is following me like a friendly dog, all cuddles and slobbery puppy kisses. But that is not the sense of the word in Hebrew. This is active, not so much follow as chase, hunting you down wherever someone has hidden themselves out of fear or shame. Jesus followed Peter to bring goodness and mercy. Jesus describes Peter's future again. Church tradition holds that Peter was crucified later in life, though he was crucified upside down because he didn't want his death compared to Christ's own. Jesus knows what awaits Peter and repeats his call to him, "Follow me." Peter is a disciple and now he continues to do what Jesus called him to do. Peter lives the remainder of his earthly days testifying to the forgiveness he has received through the risen Christ. Christ comes here today to offer that same forgiveness to you. Whatever you've done, Jesus wants to put aside the hurt, to offer you mercy instead of exacting justice. He wants you back, even if that means letting go of animosity and resentment, letting go of righteous anger. He speaks to you here as he brings you to the font, where he says, "Follow me." He speaks to you here as he invites you to his table, where he personally shares his love and forgiveness with you. Out of everything there is in all of creation, he loves you most and so he comes here today to mend the broken relationship, to bring you back together again. This is why, throughout history, God guards so jealously the places and things he uses to communicate forgiveness to his people, whether that be the sacrifices and the temple in Old Testament days or whether that is his Word and sacraments in the New Testament era. He wants you to be able to hear, plainly and clearly, that you are loved, that you are forgiven, that all past wrongs have been set aside, that he has no need or desire to hold grudges and would rather give up everything else if it means having you back.