Sermons

Third Sunday of Easter
Sunday 25 April 2004 at 10am
Simon Cowling

Readings Acts 9. 1-20; John 21. 1-19

You may have heard about the Sunday School teacher who was trying to get the concept of sin over to her young charges. "Does anyone here know what we mean by sins of omission?", she asked. A small girl replied, "Aren't those the sins we should have committed, but didn't?" ……

St. Peter was a man who knew all about sins of omission. This is the disciple of Jesus who, at the Last Supper, boldly declared: "Lord…I am ready to die for you!" (John 13.37). In the darkness before the dawn, a few hours later, Peter was with the crowds in the courtyard of the High Priest's house. Just as Jesus had predicted, he was furiously denying that he knew Jesus to anyone who would listen. Then the cock-crow, the realisation of what he had done - or not done - and the bitter tears of self-reproach and probably self-pity.

Yet this Peter who had failed to stand by his Lord is the same Peter who is subsequently described by St. John rushing excitedly into the tomb and, as we hear today, jumping off his fishing boat into the Sea of Galilee when Jesus appears at the water's edge, dragging the huge catch of fish into shore when Jesus requests some fish to cook; this impetuous, irrepressible, loveable and sinful Peter who so desperately wants to get things right but who so often, as we might say, messes things up.

The encounter between Jesus and Peter, after the meal of fish and bread, has the feel of one of those film scenes in which the director - in this case the Gospel writer - has taken out of focus all but the most important characters. The lake, the fishing boat, the other disciples, the remains of the meal - all are temporarily placed in the background as Jesus asks Peter three times the same question: 'do you love me?' Three times Peter replies: 'yes', on the third occasion betraying his sadness that the question needs to be put yet again; and three times Jesus gives Peter the same solemn charge: 'take care of my sheep.' Slowly and with great care Jesus erases the memory of Peter's threefold failure to acknowledge his Lord after Judas' betrayal. Jesus commits to Peter the pastoral care of his flock, showing that deep within the ashes of Peter's failure lie the embers from which trust can be rekindled. Now Peter is truly ready to follow Jesus, even to the martyr's death that is predicted for him at the end of their encounter on the shore. Subsequent tradition relates that Peter was, at his own request, crucified at Rome upside-down because he considered himself unworthy to die in the same upright position as his Lord.

But let's return for now to the command of Jesus that Peter should take care of his sheep. Peter, whose human frailty has been all too evident throughout the Gospels, is to become the great pastor, the shepherd of the flock that is to bear the name of Jesus Christ and which is to proclaim that name to the world. In a narrow sense Peter's experience of forgiveness is an encouragement for all of us who have the privilege of exercising leadership within the Church: Peter had faults as we have faults, he was sinful as we are sinful; yet the gift of his Lord's forgiveness allowed him to move beyond self-pity to a life of servant leadership, part of which we hear about in the early chapters of the Acts of the Apostles. Yet in a broader and ultimately more significant sense Peter's experience of forgiveness stands for what all Christians everywhere are called to bear witness to: that we are accepted as we are by Jesus Christ and that we are called simply to follow him, remembering his words as they came in a vision to St. Paul which he describes to the church at Corinth: "My grace is all you need, for my power is greatest when you are weak." (2 Corinthians 12.9)

I've spoken at some length about Peter's story this morning and earlier, in our first lesson, we heard Paul's story, the great Damascus Road experience that Arnold Harrison preached about in his sermon at January's United Eucharist here at St. Edmund's. To end with, another story, the story of John Wesley, which I would think practically all our brothers and sisters at Lidgett Park would be able to repeat verbatim but which is curiously unknown in the Church of England of which John Wesley was an ordained priest all his life.

The thirty-five year old Wesley was in despair in 1738, his faith fragile to the point of breaking. He was on the verge of giving up his ministry when a friend from the Moravian Church encouraged him with the words "Preach faith till you have it, and then because you have it, you will preach faith". Soon afterwards, one May evening, Wesley reluctantly attended a meeting in Aldersgate, London. Someone was reading from Martin Luther's Preface to the Epistle to Romans. This is what Wesley subsequently wrote in his journal, noting even the exact time: "About 8:45 pm, while he was describing the change which God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and death." There followed a ministry of itinerant preaching that was to last more than half a century and lead John Wesley's successors out of the established church.

What Peter and Paul and John Wesley experienced in common was the risen Christ calling them to ministry within his flock. The same risen Christ is here today, calling each of us. Will our hearts be warmed? Will we respond? What will our story be?….

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