Feed my sheep

By The Rev. Bernard W. Poppe, Rector

In the Gospel stories, when Jesus was first starting out, he walked along the lake and came to some fishermen in the boats with their fathers. One of the boats was owned by a man named Zebadee and his sons were named James and John. Jesus walked up to them and simply said, "Follow me." The left everything and followed him. Further along the shore he came to another boat where the fishermen were named Peter and Andrew, they were also brothers. And again, Jesus said, "Follow me." They also left everything and followed him. Jesus told them that from that point on, they would be fishers of people.

And so it began, a ministry that lasted three years. During that time so much happened, so much traveling around, so many people, gatherings, challenges. There were miracles and wonders, healing and signs, but always Jesus there to make things right. Jesus was there to teach them, to guide them and love them. He loved them even when they were foolish, when they didn't get the point of his lessons, when they failed at their tasks, when they were ambitious and argued among themselves. He loved them when they ran off into the night and left him alone while he was arrested. He loved them from the cross as he hung dying, forgiving them for their desertion. Forgiving them for their denial and betrayal.

When he rose form the dead, it was another miracle and still they didn't really seem to get the point. It must have seemed like déja vu when the two sets of brothers returned to their fishing boats and a man walked up to them. He called out from the shore asking them if they caught anything. They replied, "No." He called out again, this time suggesting they drop their nets on the other side of the boat.

I wonder if they began to sense something at that point. After all, the first time they met Jesus, he said the same thing. "Drop the net on the other side." As though they didn't get the point the second time, the net filled again and they needed help to get the fish ashore -- just like the first time.

But this time, Peter did understand who it was and panicked. In a fairly comic scene, he was suddenly ashamed of being naked on this boat while he fished and in a fit of modesty both put on his clothes and jumped into the water. It seems to me either would have sufficed to deal with his modesty. The scriptures also tell of another man who was ashamed of his nakedness before the Lord. Oh yes, that was Adam. He had something to be ashamed of and tried to hide from his naked truth. God wasn't fooled then, and Jesus wasn't fooled by Peter's shame at his naked truth. Peter had to feel exposed, not so much by his nakedness from clothing, but even more so from the nakedness of the truth that he denied Jesus in the courtyard after he was arrested. He had to look Jesus in the eye knowing that he promised to stand by him, even to death if that was necessary, and only moments later ran away, hid, and then lied about knowing Jesus. The man on the shore saw Peter in his nakedness and shame. There were no clothes or amount of water that would have concealed that naked truth.

When they came to shore, Jesus asked Peter three time, "Do you love me." And three times Peter answered "Yes, you know I love you." And with each admission of love, Jesus told him to "Feed his sheep." Peter got agitated that Jesus asked him three times, "Do you love me." Again he seemed to miss the point. One question for each denial. With each admission of love, Jesus allowed him to erase the nakedness of the truth that Peter had betrayed him. With each instruction to feed his sheep, Jesus called him back into relationship and mission. And just like he did three years earlier on the shore by the boats, he said, "Follow me."

God calls us, and that's that. God loves us, and that's that. God sends us out, and that's that. We don't have to worry about being worthy, we're not. We don't have to worry about being the brightest in the boat, we're not. We don't have to be worried about our naked truth before God, he knows it, and if need be, heals it.

Peter didn't deserve a second chance, but he got one. Paul, in his zealous righteousness oversaw the persecution of the early Christian believers and he didn't deserve a second chance either. Imperfect, difficult men that anyone else would have fired, sued, or at the very least shunned. But here Jesus not only forgave, but sent them out on missions. He modeled compassion, he modeled love.

There is not a person among us that Jesus isn't calling. Each of us has our truths and realities that make us feel unworthy or unlovable, but the wonderful thing about Peter and Paul is that if God can love them, God can love us. There may be no accounting for taste, but there is the blessed news that God calls us to follow, and places in our care the most precious of gifts -- God's sheep. Feed my sheep. The lonely, the poor, the sick, the needy, the hopeless, the helpless, the fearful and the unworthy. Love as we have been loved, forgive as we have been forgiven, call as we have been called.

In the early 1960's there was a wonderful TV show imported from Britain called The Avengers. In the sophisticated world of Cold War espionage secret agents John Steed and Emma Peel kept us all safe from harm. Each adventure would begin with Mrs. Peel going about her daily activities, when she would be surprised by a note of some sort with the words written by John Steed saying, "You're needed." From that simple call emerged an adventure ultimately saving the world from some diabolical fate.

Well friends, we're needed. Jesus wants us to do something quite simple. It seems he wants us to feed his sheep. In a world where a troubled youth can kill over 30 people and wound almost as many on a college campus supposed to be safe, in a world where not even that can convince legislators of the need to regulate and ban guns more effectively, in a world of terror and fear, where politics plays loose with justice, we are needed. Far from the comic threats faced by the Avengers, our world reels in suffering of staggering proportion. And we are needed to answer Jesus' call. We are to witness God's love, to work in ways that reflect God's mercy, to give to the relief of God's people, to pray and to claim the healing that God offers all God's children.

Jesus told Peter that when he was old, someone would fasten a belt around him and take him where he did not wish to go. Like Peter, sometimes it seems like we are in places we do not want to be and called to do things we would rather not. But if we respond to the call to "follow" we must do so trusting that God will see us through to our journeys end.

Last week I told you that I was going to Washington DC at the invitation of the Human Rights Campaign, an advocacy organization for the rights of Gay and Lesbian people. I was one of 250 clergy from all faiths and denominations representing all 50 states. Each of us was grouped with the others from our states and scheduled to visit our senators and representatives and lobby their support for Employment non-discrimination and the inclusion of "Sexual orientation" among the list of those covered by hate crimes laws. Not having done this before, and being somewhat out of my comfort zone, I took some measure of relief in the knowledge that I was one of six clergy from New Jersey and that I would happily step to the back of the group in the role of supportive window dressing. (I'm not totally ignorant of the political process, and fully understand the importance of the ministry of silent presence.) Imagine my concern to discover that four of the six of us were absent due to the flooding from last week. Gulping hard, I looked to the other priest grateful that, given his earlier bravado, he would surely want this spotlight, and I would be very supportive. Imagine my panic when he, also a neophyte in this work, became overwhelmed and disappeared from our assembly without a word. I was gripped by the awful realization that I alone would carry the standard for New Jersey. Not even the staff person assigned to help me could go into the offices with me. I was on my own. Well, no one fastened a belt around me, in fact ironically I forgot to pack my belt, and felt very self conscious by this, believing that the eagle eyes of our legislators would see this missing accessory as a poor reflection of my credibility. In any event, even though there was no belt, they did take me where I did not want to go.

So, feeling improperly dressed, abandoned by my fellow clergy, poorly prepared for the rigors no doubt awaiting, I went into my first meeting like Daniel into the lion's den.

Well, I can attest to the power of prayer. No doubt the effectiveness of the Evening Prayer and vigil in support of this trip held in this church last week rescued me from the fate I had imagined as swiftly as God did save Daniel from the Lion. Each of the legislators and staff people that I met could not have been nicer or more receptive to my visit, even I must say in fairness, those of the party I did not support in the last election.

Each visit increased my awareness of the political process in a way I had not experienced before, and each visit increased my awareness of how quickly I still forget God's gentle call to follow. I don't have to be comfortable, I don't have to be dressed properly, I don't have to hide in the crowd or be fortified with all the possible answers to the myriad of questions I imagined. All I had to do was care and believe in what I was there for. "Feed my sheep," Jesus said. Wherever, whenever, comfortable or not, prepared or not, our faith and concern is all the armor we need to do the work God calls us to do.

I suspect that not all the challenges I face will be as easy as the one last week, but it's another example of God calling us and telling us to try something different, perhaps something as simple as dropping the net on the other side of the boat. But whether we face the greatest of tragedies, the greatest of challenges, or even those no where near as bad as we had imagined, God is with us and loves us and will see us through. We don't need to jump in the water, or hide, just follow. Amen.

© 2007 St. George's Episcopal Church, Maplewood, NJ