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SERMON
Late in his career, the Apostle Peter wrote two pastoral letters that
are full of wisdom. You know, when an old veteran speaks, we do well to
pay close attention. Because often, as they reflect on a life of
service, they drop some priceless gems of insight. But I've found that
their value isn't so much to be found in the words themselves. Oh, the
words stand on their own merit, of course. But those insights are
priceless because of the experiences that have shaped them. They have
the solid ring of truth because they are offered by people who have
lived the truth of those words.
Peter's first letter is like that. Let me mention just four memorable
one-liners, four brief exhortations that could each qualify as a gem of
sage advice. He writes in 5:5, "Clothe yourselves with humility."
In 4:7 he says, "Be clear-minded and alert." In 3:15 he writes,
"Always be prepared to give an answer for your faith." And in 5:2
he says, "Be shepherds of God's flock." Four simple pieces of
homespun solid advice offered gently by an old man to those who needed
to hear them. But those four exhortations become infinitely more
meaningful when you're aware of the experiences behind them.
"Clothe yourselves with humility," Peter wrote. How
appropriate for him to put it that way. I say that because of a
memorable night when Peter had watched Jesus take a towel and use it as
an apron so the image of being "clothed" with humility would be with
him forever. It was John, you probably know, who recalled the incident
in his Gospel. Knowing that in a few hours he and his disciples would be
wrenched apart, Jesus showed them the strength of humility by rising
from the table, wrapping a towel around his waist, and proceeding to
wash his disciple's feet.
But when it came Peter's turn, the proud disciple refused. (Peter had
always had a problem with humility.) Jesus said to him, "Peter, if
you refuse this offer, if you reject me in this, then you have rejected
our friendship our fellowship our relationship." That was more
than Peter could bear. "Please, Lord," he said, "wash me."
Peter learned some lessons about humility that night that shaped his
life forever. For one thing he learned that he was most like Jesus when
he was clothed with humility. He learned that our first duty to Christ
is to obey him, rather than trying to impose our will on him (even if it
is our good will). Perhaps most important, Peter learned that faith
begins not when we serve him, but when we allow him to serve us. Those
are hard lessons to learn and too easily forgotten. Peter reminds us,
"Clothe yourselves with humility."
Peter also wrote, "Be clear minded and alert." I suppose
you could read that as though it were simply a variation on the Scout
motto, "Be Prepared." But there's much more to it. Behind Peter's words
was the memory of a time when he was anything but clear-minded and
alert. In fact he had fallen asleep on the job. It had happened in the
Garden of Gethsemane, the same night of his foot washing, only later.
Peter, along with James and John, had gone with Jesus for a time of
prayer and soul-searching. Three times, before going off to wrestle with
his Father, Jesus had told them to watch and pray. Three times he had
come back to find them asleep.
This wasn't like falling asleep at the symphony and being elbowed by
your wife and told to "wake up and try to look interested." If ever
Jesus had needed the support of his friends it was right then. But to
their shame he found he had to face that anguish alone. Peter told his
younger Christian friends to be clear minded and alert in their prayers.
His words had great impact because he himself had failed at the crucial
time and had fallen asleep. They recognized his heart in his words,
because it had been aching.
There's a third word of counsel from Peter: "Always be prepared to
give an answer for your faith." Think about the experiences that
lay behind those words. Peter remembered how, that same night, Jesus had
been arrested. As our Lord stood trial in the high priest's house, Peter
waited in the courtyard by the fire, trying to remain inconspicuous. But
someone there recognized him. He denied it. And when his Galilean accent
gave him away, did he then make his defense? No, the sorry fact is that
he broke into a string of foul language and denied that he had ever
known this criminal, Jesus.
Peter wrote, "Always be prepared to give an answer for your faith."
Those are really rather ordinary words of good advice that is, until
you connect them to the experiences that lie behind them. Then you begin
to understand the bitter tears of remorse he had shed, and how they
infused those words with pathos and urgency.
And here's one more exhortation from Peter, now older and wiser.
"Be shepherds of God's flock," he wrote. Those are certainly
words of sound pastoral advice. But behind them lay the memory of a time
on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, after the resurrection. Seven of the
disciples, including Peter, had gone fishing. The risen Lord Jesus met
them. They had breakfast together. Then Jesus and Peter took a walk.
Three times Jesus asked Peter, "Do you love me?" Three times
Peter had confessed his love. And three times Jesus had replied,
"Feed my lambs Take care of my sheep feed my flock."
And that's exactly what Peter did. By the time Peter wrote the words,
"Be shepherds of God's flock," he was an old man. From the day Jesus
reclaimed him until the day he died, Peter had faithfully done what
Jesus commissioned him to do. He was a good shepherd. So his simple
sounding words of advice carried weight because they had grown out of a
lifetime of obedience.
Clothe yourselves with humility. Be clear-minded and alert. Always be
prepared to give an answer for your faith. Be shepherds of God's flock.
Four simple exhortations but they don't seem quite as simple when you
know the stories behind them. But I wonder, apart from the obvious
meaning of the sayings themselves, might there be some lessons we can
learn growing out of those stories behind them? I think so. Let me
suggest four lessons.
One thing we can learn is that truth may be free, but that doesn't
mean it's cheap. Do you know what the truth cost Peter? The
reason why Peter's words have the ring of truth is because he had
invested his whole life in them. That's what it cost him.
Some people imagine that what we call the "truth" is nothing more than
facts and information lying around waiting to be picked up by anyone who
feels inclined to do so. Facts may be like that but truth isn't. The
truth is available to anyone who wants it, but the only way you can
possess it is by building it into your life.
For example, I could tell you to "live one day at a time." How many
times have you heard someone say that? It sounds like good advice. But
the words themselves may never mean any more than just that: good
sounding advice. The truth of those words is only known by those who
live that way.
I know men and women for whom living "one day at a time" isn't a
platitude it's the only way they can live. Life is so precarious that
about all they can count on is one day at a time. Some of them live in
such a way that they bear eloquent witness to the daily grace of God in
ways that nobody else can. When they speak, they speak with authority.
That's why people who have lived with cancer for a long time are such
great encouragers to those who have just been told they have the
disease. The truth they can share is given freely but it isn't cheap.
In fact, it's priceless.
A second lesson we can take away from these stories is the great
value of winning our defeats. If you've been watching the
Olympics you know how difficult it is sometimes to win our victories.
Going for the gold demands all the discipline and strength we have. But
hard as it is to win our victories, it's infinitely harder to win our
defeats.
All four of those exhortations reminded Peter of his failure. He had
failed to understand what Jesus was about with the basin and towel. He
had fallen asleep when Jesus needed his supportive friendship. He had
betrayed his Lord by denying his faith. And those three times of
affirming his love were tied to his threefold denial.
Yet instead of a bitter old man bemoaning his failures, we find Peter
writing to his flock, steadying them with his calmness, his courage, his
wisdom. Peter had grown up just as Jesus had said he would. Winning
our victories can make us self-sufficient, perhaps even arrogant and
impatient with others. But winning his defeats had brought Peter to a
level of maturity rich with long patience, and deep humility, and
arms-open-wide compassion.
A third lesson that we can take from these stories is that we're
not always at our best when we feel our best. Feelings are
essential, but sometimes our feelings mislead us even contradict our
true condition. There are times when we may feel badly, yet we're at our
spiritual best. Other times we may feel at our best when we're really at
our worst.
Peter had said to Jesus that night, "Everyone else may deny you, but
I never will!" All the disciples agreed. They felt confident even
a bit heroic. But it was their feeling of confidence that blinded them
to their capacity for treachery. All too soon every one of the men would
learn the truth about themselves, and it would hurt. But though they
would feel miserable, it would be the beginning of honest faith
(although they weren't aware of it at the time).
The same is true with us. Sometimes we're at our best spiritually
without even knowing it. Sensitive people often feel badly. Insensitive
people frequently don't have enough imagination to feel miserable about
anything. Arrogant extroverts might just feel good about everything
including their sins. Their feelings say absolutely nothing about their
character.
That's because feelings are not always determined by our spiritual
condition. Quite often its things like age, physical health, finances,
temperament and social circumstances that shape how we feel; and those
things may have little or nothing to do with our spiritual health. The
fact is that simple lack of exercise can make us spiritually depressed.
When we're tired, when we're drained because of illness, we can doubt
the worth of our faith. The old spiritual tells the truth with easy
clarity: "Sometimes I'm up, sometimes I'm down. O yes, Lord.
Sometimes I'm almost to the ground O yes, Lord!" If we'll remember
that that's how life goes, maybe we won't be so inclined to allow our
feelings to lead us to unwise and unsafe conclusions. Far healthier to
affirm the fact that we're loved, even when we don't feel we are that
we're forgiven, even when we have no sense of it and however we may
feel, obedience is still a live option.
The truth may be free but it's not cheap. The real champions of faith
are those who win their defeats. How we feel doesn't necessarily reflect
how we are. And here's one last lesson. These stories teach us about
the wonder of our Lord's friendship.
At the end of Mark's Gospel you will find two of the tenderest words of
kindness in the Bible. The women had come to the empty tomb on Easter
morning. They were met by a messenger dressed in white who said,
"You're looking for Jesus
He is risen
He's not here
Now go, tell his
disciples and Peter
" Those two words, "and Peter," were our
Lord's tender tribute to this idealistic, impressionable, vulnerable,
impulsive big fisherman who, for all his faults, loved his Lord deeply,
and put his whole heart into everything. And so Jesus sent a personal
invitation: "Tell Peter that we'll meet in Galilee."
Galilee that's where it had all started for Peter. What seemed like a
lifetime ago, there on the lakeshore, Jesus had called Peter with the
words, "Follow me." Now it was time to return to Galilee time
for a new beginning. There was another walk together along the
lakeshore. Three times Jesus would ask him, "Peter, do you love me?"
Why three times? Three times Peter had fallen asleep. Three times Peter
had denied his Lord. Now it was time for a threefold confession of love.
According to John's Gospel that conversation ended with Jesus saying to
Peter, "Follow me." The same words that had called Peter to
discipleship a lifetime ago were calling him again. After all his denial
and betrayal, our Lord still wanted him. And when Jesus said once more
to Peter, "Follow me," he gave him back his life.
Right here is what makes Jesus' grace so amazing. It's not that he
offers his friendship when we've done well as a reward. It's not that
he offers his grace when we can be proud of ourselves when we're
confident. It's when there's not much left in us but shame and regret
that Jesus comes to us, and speaks our name, and calls us friend, and
says once more, "Follow me."
"Follow me," he says to Peter and us. But now the following will
be different. Now we understand more clearly that what saves us isn't
our commitment to him but his commitment to us. It isn't our confidence
but his compassion. It isn't being sure of our faith in him, but being
sure of his faithfulness to us. Peter promised Jesus that day that he
would follow him and so he did. We all have promises to keep. So has
Jesus. And here's the wonder: all of our promises will be kept by the
strength of his. Let's pray:
O Jesus, Thou hast promised to all who follow thee
That where thou art in glory there shall thy servants be;
And Jesus, I have promised to serve thee to the end.
O give me grace to follow, my Master and my Friend.
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