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Sunday, March 18, 2018


The Mandate to Care

     John 21: 15-17

 

 

          Do you love me? The question is on the minds of just about everyone in some way or another. Parents ask their children. Children ask their parents. Lovers ask each other. The Contours made the question famous in 1962 with their pop song of the same name: Do you love me? In the song, the singer has learned to dance. He can “really shake ‘em down.” 

          But it’s an important question. Do you love me? Marriages are based on the answer. So are many other relationships. To love is to show a form of care. Can you care for someone without loving them? I would think so. Can you love someone without caring for them? I would think not.

          In the gospel of John in Chapter 20, Jesus appears three times after the resurrection. First he appears to Mary Magdalene. She runs to tell the disciples. Later that day, Jesus appears to the disciples, but Thomas is not there. Eight days later, Jesus again appears to the disciples including Thomas. Chapter 20 ends with a closing, a sort of wrap up sentence, the kind you see at the end of a story. John tells us why he wrote the book, what its purpose is. But then, there is Chapter 21.

          Theologians have puzzled over John 21 for many years. A number of theories have been offered as to why it is there, who wrote it, what it means. It appears in some of the earliest manuscripts and that lends credence that it was always there and not added at a later date. The best explanation to me is that it is an epilogue, an afterthought that John wanted to include. And it was important enough to him to write it down and add it on.

          Peter, James, John, Nathaniel, Thomas and two unnamed disciples are at the Sea of Tiberias. This is another name for the Sea of Galilee. Peter says “I’m going fishing.” Somehow that just makes perfect sense to me. Peter is on sensory and emotional overload. The last two weeks, he has seen his leader tortured and crucified. He has undergone feelings of betrayal the night of Jesus’s arrest as he denied their connection three times out of fear for his own life. Jesus has appeared to him and others twice at the upper room after the resurrection. And now, he is back in familiar surroundings in the lake country. He is hungry and he does what he knows. He needs something to be anchored to. His whole world is spinning on its axis. And so, it makes perfect sense to me for this fisherman to say to the others: “I’m going fishing.” And what do they say to him? “We’ll go with you.” So they get in the boat and they spend the whole night fishing.

          Here’s where the story begins to get interesting. At least three in this group are professional fisherman. They have fished this lake for their livelihood. If anyone knows where to fish, they do. And yet, they fish all night and catch nothing. There is evidence that night time was considered the best time for fishing on Galilee, but they caught nothing. This may be the truth or it may be employment by John of one of his symbols. Either way, it sets the table for the comparison of fishing for naught to coming to grips with the resurrection and what it has taught them about living the Christian life; about fishing for men. What is it that Jesus told them just a few weeks ago?

                      I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever

abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears

much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.

John 15: 5.

 

It is still for the disciples to learn, to really digest the profound truth, that apart from the guidance of Christ in their lives, they can do nothing. They can no more evangelize for the Savior than they can catch fish that night.

          Come with me now. Let’s imagine what it was like that day. It is daybreak, first light. Jesus calls out to the boat, about a hundred yards away. “Children, do you have any fish?” He asks. “No” they reply. They can’t make him out in the haze. They don’t recognize his voice. It’s just someone on the shore talking to them. And yet, he has addressed them as children, as though he is someone above them in some way. “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some,” He says. What a strange request. You’ve been fishing all night. You know the waters. You know the depths. You know the right kind of bait to use. You know where to fish. You also know that it doesn’t make any sense to think that fish are on one side of your boat and not the other. Maybe you’re being nice or maybe you’re just too tired to argue, so you do what the man on the shore says. The next thing you know, your nets are about to break. There are so many fish you can’t haul in the net. Then John, your fellow fisherman, gets it. “It is the Lord!” he says. You are Peter. All of a sudden, it all makes sense. You are stripped for work, but for you, you have immediately forgotten about the work. It is the Lord! You put your clothes back on and dive in the water. No matter that you are a hundred yards from shore. No matter that you are weighed down by your clothing. No matter that you have left your boat when the others are struggling with a catch that they can’t handle. It is the Lord!

          What follows is nothing short of breakfast with Jesus. Breakfast with the resurrected Lord. For the third time, these men are seeing the resurrected Lord in the flesh.

          Are you still with me? Stay with me. Stay in character. You are Peter. It doesn’t matter if you are female, because this story is told to Christians of both genders. You are Peter. Breakfast is over and Jesus says to you: “Peter, do you love me?”

          Don’t you know you are grimacing! It wasn’t that long ago that you denied him. Someone came up to you and said: “Aren’t you one of those Jesus lovers?” And you said something neutral, something to make him go away. And now, here is Jesus asking you if you love him. You tell Him that He knows you love him. He says “Feed my lambs.”

          Then he asks again: “Do you love me?” You tell Him again that he knows you love him. This time he says: “Tend my sheep.” Then Jesus asks you a third time, “Peter, John Robert, Sherri, do you love me?” Now you are grieved, upset. You look at the face that you love, the eyes that you trust, the body that He willingly broke for you and you say “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” And he looks back and meets your eyes and he has one simple command, just one thing: “Feed my sheep.”

          Three times. Three times at the end of his stay on earth, Jesus reaches out to Peter, the everyman of the disciples, and He asks the same question: Do you love me? What is the Great Commandment? Love the Lord your God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength and your neighbor as yourself. What is the most important question for a Christian? Do you love me?

          So we have the most important question. What is the answer to this most important question? It’s as simple as the question. Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep. Three times He tells us. It is the Mandate to Care.

          I think that’s why we have John 21. John was there on the seashore that day. John saw and heard. Some sixty years later when he is thought to have penned his gospel, he had a final thought and he added it on. In some ways, it is the most important chapter in a gospel loaded with important chapters. In this post-resurrection conversation, Jesus continues to teach and encourage on the matter so essential to His mission: Care for my children. Feed them, Feed them bread and water and the Word. Nourish them in body and spirit. Feed my sheep. We must never forget who we are. We are the Church. We are not the sheep. We are the disciples. It is the essence of the Christian life, of pastoral care, of servant leadership of the people of God. It is the imperative to love coupled with the mandate to care.

          Do you love me? Jesus is asking. Do you love me? If you do, then feed His sheep.

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