Sunday, March 4, 2018

Denial means nothing to grace

John 18:12-27

            Even if we don’t know it very well, most of you are probably aware of Peter denying Jesus three times during his arrest. This is a semi-famous scene in the story of Jesus. But I bet fewer of you are aware of the scene after Jesus rises from the dead when he meets with Peter on the shore of the lake. This scene is only in the Gospel of John and we don’t read it in our four year cycle of worship readings at all. It occurs only once every three years in the Revised Common Lectionary, which means it’s probably been ten years since it’s been read in worship here, and even then it was paired with the story of Jesus appearing to the disciples while they are fishing so it’s simply not part of our worship enough. So, today, I am going to give the scene its due.
            The story goes like this: Having denied Jesus three times, which is what we read today, we hear nothing from Peter. Meanwhile, Jesus is crucified, he dies, and for three days there is not a word. Then, suddenly, Jesus reappears on the shore while the disciples are fishing and, after he tells them to fish on the other side of the boat, he meets Peter for breakfast. The Gospel of John picks up the story here:
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.’ (John 21:15-19)
            Three times Peter denies Jesus and three times he is given a new direction. The resurrection changes everything. Peter is given a second chance, but it’s more than that. This isn’t a shape up or get out moment; it’s Jesus nudging Peter as if to say, “The rules of the game have changed.” It’s no longer about whether you will deny me or not. Now, it’s about whether you love me, and that’s all that matters. As Peter’s story shows we are forgiven not because of our willpower or the goodness of our hearts but because of what God has done for us. All we can do is love in return.
            “Feed my lambs,” Jesus says. “Tend my sheep,” he continues. “Feed my sheep.” Jesus promises to Peter that the hands of time are turning and that he will be taken someday where he doesn’t wish to go. He will die. Jesus seems to shrug it off: feed my lambs, tend my sheep. Jesus is a pain in the butt when it comes to the easy life, but he also offers us something we cannot achieve by our own means: Real forgiveness. Peter’s denial is temporary—the forgiveness is lasting, the calling to follow, the work of feeding lambs and tending sheep—that never ends.
            The Gospel of John proclaims that every death is met by a commensurate resurrection. It’s such an astonishing promise. It’s SO good. So needed. So beautiful. We don’t spend a lot of time feeling sorry for people who bring ruin on themselves like Peter. He has nobody to blame for his denial but himself. He had three opportunities to stand up for himself, to confess the faith and to say, “I BELIEVE!” He doesn’t, but that’s not what matters to Jesus in the end. Imagine if that were the last word! Imagine if that was all we ever got: Three chances. Three strikes and you’re out. In life, sure, that’s sometimes how it works, but, mercifully, that isn’t grace.
            No, Jesus shows us that Peter is worthy of redemption in spite of himself. To me, that makes him relatable because all of us need more than three strikes. We get in ruts, we imagine that our past is so bad, our wrongs so grievous, that there is nothing to be done to make up for them, and in one sense that’s right: We can’t change the past. It’s only by the grace of God that we are granted something more that we never deserved. And because of that our past does not define us.
            In the wake of Jesus’ death you can imagine how desperately Peter needed this scene with Jesus on the shore of the lake, but it’s not just a moment for Peter. It’s for all of us. For all of us who believe, even for half a second, that we could be beyond redemption; for all who think they’ve done something too awful, for all who struggle to love themselves and can’t imagine how anybody else could, even the God of the universe. This scene is for you! This scene is what grace looks like—the risen Christ meeting us is our despair, and this is despair of our own making. It is because we aren’t good enough; it is because we are not enough. Jesus is not coming to offer a pick-me-up and to tell you how great you are. No, Jesus is simply asking us as many times as we have failed, “Do you love me?” Of course we do, Jesus! Of course we do! But is that enough, Jesus? Is it? Or are our mistakes too much? Is our denial too great? Are we too broken?
            Jesus simply shakes his head. Feed my lambs, tend my sheep. It’s never too late. Salvation is always now. Grace obliterates the wrongs of the past and opens the doors to the future, but it makes all the difference in the world right now. It’s about now. Feed my lambs, tend my sheep. Right now. Because it doesn’t matter where you’ve been and the future can wait. Do you love me? Jesus asks. Then tend my sheep.
This is Peter we’re talking about. This is the rock on which the Christian church will be built, and if the church’s foundation rests on one who fails so magnificently and in such a critical moment then the rest of us can be assured no matter our mistakes that the grace of God will meet us. We are saved not because we always assent to faith—Peter couldn’t—instead we are saved because the cornerstone of God’s church is failure, and the seeds of failure sow redemption because we have a God who went to the cross before us.
            That’s grace.

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