Feed the Sheep

John 21:15-25

July 16, 2023 • Mount Pleasant UMC

Maybe you’ve had it happen to you, too. That person who hurt you, who you might even say betrayed you, is suddenly standing there in front of you. You didn’t expect it, but there they are, and they ask if the two of you can talk. I had that happen many years ago. I was at a wedding, and one of the guests was a man I hadn’t seen in a couple of years. He had done some things that had been hurtful and honestly I had hoped I wouldn’t ever see him again. But there he was, a guest at the wedding, and though I had hoped to avoid him, he came over to me and asked if we could step into the Fellowship Hall. He wanted to talk to me. Feeling a bit trapped, I did so, and I’ve never forgotten what he said to me because it wasn’t what I expected. “I just want to say that I’m sorry. I know I hurt you, and I shouldn’t have done what I did.” Then he looked me in the eye and said, “Can you forgive me?” Maybe you’ve had it happen to you, too. And all of a sudden, you’re faced with the choice and the decision of what to say. How do you respond?

I wonder if Peter felt a bit of that, only on the other side from where I was, when Jesus took him aside for a walk on a Galilean beach. It had been a rough night. This was a little while after the resurrection, so they knew Jesus was alive, they had seen him a couple of times, but he wasn’t with them all the time like he used to be. So while they were, apparently, waiting for him to show up again, Peter decided he was going fishing. Back to what he knew. And the rest of the disciples decided they might as well go with him (21:3). All night long they fished, like you did in those days, and they caught nothing. That’s when a stranger called out to them from the shore: “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some” (21:6). They did what the stranger said to do, and they found some fish, and a light bulb went off in John’s head. He remembered this had happened before. “It is the Lord!” he says (21:7), and when Peter hears John say that, he does the strangest and dumbest thing he could have done. He puts on his clothes (because you fished in your underwear) and then he jumps in the water to get back to shore faster. He puts on his clothes and then he jumps in the water. Why? That makes no sense! Now, the text doesn’t say and I won’t argue with you about it if you think differently, but I think Peter remembers another time he was on the lake and Jesus called to him. I think when Peter jumps out of the boat, he expects to walk on water. And this time, he’s really going to do it. Except he doesn’t. So he ends up swimming back to the shore, and when the rest of the disciples arrive in the boat, they have breakfast with Jesus.

After breakfast, Jesus turns to Peter. Now, the text doesn't say it but we usually picture them walking along the beach. And, in true American fashion, we picture them on a sandy beach, but I’m going to tell you, the Sea of Galilee doesn’t really have sandy beaches. Mostly rocks. I personally picture Jesus taking Peter to the side, both of them sitting on the shore and looking at the lake that has meant to much to them. Maybe they are skipping rocks along the surface. Maybe there’s silence for a bit, and then Jesus asks Peter the same question three times: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” A simple question, but there’s a lot packed into what happens here, because Jesus wants to remind Peter of the absolute centrality of love.

This morning, we’re continuing this series based on our Bible school themes, looking at the stories the kids are going to be learning at VBS in a couple of weeks. If you somehow got in here without noticing any of the decorations, you might not know that the theme this year is “Ready, Set, Move: Following Jesus Here, There and Everywhere.” So far in this series, we’ve talking about doing what Jesus says and believing who Jesus is. This morning, I’m going to give you the bottom line right up front: following Jesus means we love who Jesus loves.

So one of the first things I notice about this encounter between Jesus and Peter is that Jesus doesn’t call him Peter. You might remember that Jesus had given him the name “Peter,” a name that means “rock” (cf. Matthew 16:18), but here Jesus calls him, “Simon son of John” (21:15). Every time. It’s almost like Peter has reverted to what he was like before he knew Jesus. It almost sounds like he’s not a disciple anymore, and maybe Jesus is using that name to invite him to follow again, to restart his discipleship after his spectacular failure. And yes, Peter did fail magnificently. When Jesus was arrested, Peter was there, and he was there when Jesus was on trial. And he denied even knowing Jesus. Three times he claimed he did not know who the man on trial was. In Luke’s Gospel, there is a marvelous scene after the third time Peter says he doesn’t know Jesus where Jesus turns, apparently being led through the courtyard where Peter was, and he looks straight at Peter. The word Luke uses there indicates he looked into Peter, like into his soul. And when Peter realizes what he has done, he goes outside and weeps “bitterly,” Luke says (cf. Luke 22:61-62). Because that memory would be so fresh, I wonder if Simon is even able to look Jesus in the eye here on the beach.

A second thing to notice, that almost everyone notices, is the number of times Jesus asks Simon the same question. Three. One time for each time Simon denied knowing Jesus. There’s a strong implication that Jesus is giving Peter a chance to take back his denials or to repent for every time he dis it. It’s not magical, of course, but there is something restorative going on here, especially in the way Jesus asks the question the first time. It’s different than the other two. “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” (21:15). I wish Jesus had been more specific as to what “these” are. Or that John, the author, had told us what Jesus pointed to as he said “these.” But because we don’t have that information, scholars and preachers have debated for centuries as to what Jesus meant. What is competing with Simon’s love for Jesus? Some think it might be the sea, or the boats and the nets that represent Simon’s livelihood and his past. Do you love me more than you love fishing? But I think there’s something else going on here. REmember that, not long before this, on Thursday evening at their final meal, when Jesus was telling them that they would all in some way or another betray him, Simon made this pride-filled declaration: “Even if all fall away, I will not…Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you” (Mark 14:29, 31). So I think Jesus is referring to the other disciples when he asks Simon if Simon loves Jesus more than “these.” Do you really think you love me more than the rest of your brothers? Jesus is getting at the root of what trips Simon up: pride (cf. Card, John: The Gospel of Wisdom, pg. 216; Whitacre, John [IVP], pg. 495).

Then there’s the question itself: do you love me? Much has been made of the words used for love here, and while there are differences in the various Greek words that we translate as “love,” I’m not sure anymore that it’s all that significant here because the point is not the strength of Simon’s love for Jesus but the priority of his love. “Do you love me more than these?” And Simon never really answers that question. Three times he affirms his love for Jesus, but he never says he loves Jesus more than these. He never affirms that his love for Jesus is the priority in his life, and that, I believe, is why Jesus gives Simon the task he does. Simon needs to learn how to make love his priority.

Three times, a question is asked. Three times, a lukewarm answer is given. And three times, the response is to give Simon a task (cf. Wright, John for Everyone—Part Two, pg. 163). Because in that task, Simon will learn what it means to put Jesus’ love first. In that task, Simon will learn to truly love Jesus. And in that task, Simon just might become Peter again. What is the task? Well, Jesus says it really three different ways, but it is essentially the same task. The first time he says, “Feed my lambs” (21:15). The second time it’s “Take care of my sheep” (21:16). And the final time it sounds like this: “Feed my sheep” (21:17). Sheep is a common metaphor in the Scriptures to describe the people of God. Way back in the Old Testament, the prophet Isaiah had described the dilemma God’s people were facing this way: “We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to our own way…” (Isaiah 53:6). Sheep are not the brightest animals. They will literally follow their nose over a cliff. One author has said before sheep need food and water they need a shepherd, and in the Scriptures, God is described as a shepherd and Jesus, earlier in this very Gospel, describes himself as the “good shepherd.” He put it this way: “I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep…I know my sheep and my sheep know me…and I lay down my life for the sheep” (John 10:11, 14-15). We are the sheep. Before we need food and water, we need a shepherd.

Jesus tells Simon to feed the sheep, take care of the lambs. And by that, he is telling Simon he has to learn to care for the sheep and love the sheep. And if Simon is representative of us in this story, which I believe he is, then Jesus is, by proxy, telling us we need to love the sheep, care for the sheep, love those around us. Jesus expects us to love those he loves. Feed the sheep. Love the sheep.

That’s not always easy, though, is it? Sometimes sheep aren’t always nice. When sheep get upset, they might headbutt you or chase you away. They will stomp their hooves on the ground aggressively or they will make loud noises if you get near them and they don’t want to be bothered (https://furwingsandscalythings.com/do-sheep-bite/). And I really think that’s at least part of why Jesus refers to us as sheep. Because sometimes we get upset, and we lash out in anger or aggression toward others. Sometimes we chase people away when we are hurt. And if you follow any kind of social media, you are well aware of people who are angry and hurt making loud noises toward others. Sheep are sometimes hard to love.

There seems to be this idea that in the early church, everything was hearts and roses, that everyone got along and it was only later when we began to argue with each other. But in the very first generation of believers, we have evidence of things going wrong. In Paul’s writings, for instance, we have a short passage about two women, Euodia and Syntyche, who aren’t getting along. Paul begs them to “be of the same mind in the Lord.” He calls the both co-workers, but something has come between them and it’s a big enough argument that it’s come to the apostle Paul’s attention (cf. Philippians 4:2-3). Then there’s Demas, who for a while is Paul’s companion, maybe even with him while he’s in prison. Then by the time of Paul’s last letter, Demas has deserted Paul and the work of the Gospel because, Paul says, “he loved this world” (2 Timothy 4:10). Again, we’re not really sure what that means or what happened, but when Paul says, “Only Luke is with me” (2 Timothy 4:11), you can almost hear the heartbreak in his writing. Sheep are not always easy to love. Something interesting, though, is that right after he shares his heartbreak about Demas, he asks Timothy to “get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful in my ministry” (2 Timothy 4:11). Most likely, this is the same Mark that went with Paul early on in his traveling ministry, but then deserted him because the work of sharing the Gospel was too hard. It was such a painful relational break that it also caused a disagreement between Paul and his mentor Barnabas (cf. Acts 15:36-41). Somewhere along the way, though, Mark and Paul reconciled and Mark again became a vital part of Paul’s life and ministry. Sheep are not always easy to love, but when we, like Simon, like Paul, determine that we’re going to “love them anyway,” that we’re going to love the ones Jesus loves, forgiveness and reconciliation are possible.

I experienced that, with the man I mentioned earlier. It came as a complete surprise, but when he approached me, asking for forgiveness, I found that I had the ability to extend that to him. It was God-given; I could not have summoned that up on my own. And it didn’t erase the hurt he had caused, nor did it wipe over the events that had spiraled out of that, but it made possible a new future, a way forward that wasn’t clouded by regret and hurt. But it doesn’t require the other person to come to you like this man did to me. Sometimes (I think maybe more often than not), for the sake of our own spiritual and emotional health, we need to forgive and “love them anyway” to be able to move forward in our own relationship with God. Not that long ago, I found myself in a place like that over another relationship that had gone south. We had both done things to hurt the other, and it was obvious there was and is never going to be a moment like the one I mentioned earlier. In a long series of prayers, I chose to forgive for the sake of my own mental health. That doesn’t make what happened right. It doesn’t mean I would ever trust that person again. It means I’m doing the best I can to stop letting that other person have that level of control over me. It means I’m being obedient to Jesus, to the best of my ability, to feed the sheep, to love the sheep, to love the ones he loves.

Many years ago, when he was a sophomore in college, Kent Keith published a poem of sorts in a book about leadership. The poem is called “The Paradoxical Commandments.” Most of the time you hear it associated with Mother (now Saint) Teresa, because she took a copy of it and posted it on the wall at her Calcutta children’s home, and that’s how it became somewhat famous. But Mother Teresa did not write it. Here are Mr. Keith’s words:

People are illogical, unreasonable, and self-centered.
Love them anyway.

If you do good, people will accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Do good anyway.

If you are successful, you will win false friends and true enemies.
Succeed anyway.

The good you do today will be forgotten tomorrow.
Do good anyway.

Honesty and frankness make you vulnerable.
Be honest and frank anyway.

The biggest men and women with the biggest ideas can be shot down by the smallest men and women with the smallest minds.
Think big anyway.

People favor underdogs but follow only top dogs.
Fight for a few underdogs anyway.

What you spend years building may be destroyed overnight.
Build anyway.

People really need help but may attack you if you do help them.
Help people anyway.

Give the world the best you have and you'll get kicked in the teeth.
Give the world the best you have anyway.

Or, as Jesus put it: “Feed the sheep.” Love them anyway.

It’s not hard to see that the last few years have drastically changed the culture and the church. We are a people divided, but it didn’t happen just because of the pandemic. Actually, the pandemic just augmented the division, brought what was already living under the surface out into the open. Today, we’re a people who are divided over politics, over economics, over justice issues, even over religion. We disagree over what the right political answers to our problems are, and we openly fight with brothers and sisters in Christ who have different ideas than we do. Social media has given everyone a voice, and we’ve learned to use it to attack those we oppose. And not just their ideas; we as a people have become aggressive and angry toward the people, the sheep. We disagree over matters of justice and what that looks like. Our own denomination is splintering because of such things. I know there was an Associated Press article in the Trib-Star (https://www.tribstar.com/region/united-methodists-lose-one-fifth-of-us-churches-in-schism-driven-by-growing-defiance-of/article_7ba5f2c7-0730-5aec-a280-dad1b66f78a5.html) this past week about the United Methodist Church and our disagreements and a few have asked me about it. To me, the issues are important and serious but they are also distracting from the greater mission of making disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world. Some believe the matters around human sexuality, which is really just the presenting issue for our denominational woes—some believe those things are justice issues and others argue that they are moral issues. I’ve been asked how it’s all going to turn out and I don’t know. In Indiana, we have had somewhere around 400 churches or so leave. Yes, that’s going to impact who we are and how we witness, and part of that witness right now is that the divisions in our world aren’t just “out there;” they are here in the church. What does Jesus say to such a world, to such a church? Love them anyway. “Feed the sheep.” Love who Jesus loves.

There’s one more piece to this story of reconciliation that I want you to notice, and that’s this: Jesus still loves Simon. He still wants Simon involved in his work of saving the world. He loves him enough to give him a big job, job that in fact is Jesus’ job: “Feed the sheep” (cf. Wright 164). But here’s what you need to notice: if Jesus loves Simon, and we’re supposed to love who Jesus loves, then Simon needs to be able to love Simon as well. After he denied Jesus, he went out, remember, and wept bitterly. The word there means he wept “violently.” This was not just a quiet crying; this was loud wailing, and likely beating himself up for doing what he did, doing just what Jesus knew he would do. Undoubtedly, over those next few days, in encounters with Jesus here and there, Simon probably wondered if he could be useful again, if Jesus would want him anymore. So there, on the shore beside the Sea of Galilee, where they had spent so many happy days, Jesus reminds Simon he has not abandoned him. He still loves him, he still wants him, and he still has a place for him in the mission. Another disciple, Judas, also betrayed Jesus by turning him over to the authorities, and while we remember Judas as “the one who betrayed” Jesus (cf. Luke 6:16), Simon’s betrayal may have hurt Jesus worse. The difference between the two is that Judas ran away and took his own life. He couldn’t deal with the guilt; he couldn’t wait for the forgiveness. Simon did. He stayed close and Jesus welcomed him back. Jesus showed him he was still loved, and that he then could tell his story and love the ones Jesus loves. “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Put your own name in there. “_______________, do you love me?” No matter what you have done, no matter how far you think you might have fallen, no matter how deep your sin and brokenness, or how far you think you have run from God, he calls you back with that simple question: “Do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

And the call is still the same today as it was by the shores of the Galilean lake: “Feed the sheep.” Love who Jesus loves. Even when they break your heart, love them anyway. Let’s pray.