Smelling Like Sheep

John 21:1-19

After these things, Jesus showed himself again to the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias. This is how he showed himself to them. Gathered there were Simon Peter, Thomas who was also called the Twin, Nathaniel of Cana in Galilee, the Sons of Zebedee and two others of his disciples. Simon Peter said to them, “I am going fishing.” They said to him, “We will go with you.” And they went and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

Just after daybreak, Jesus came and stood on the shore, but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. He said to them, “My children, you haven’t any fish, have you?” They said to him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” So they cast it and they were not able to haul in the net because it was full of so many fish. The disciple whom Jesus loved said to Simon Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was Jesus, he put on some clothes for he was naked, and jumped into the sea. The others went in the boat, bringing with them the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land; only about a hundred yards off.

When they had come ashore, they saw a charcoal fire with fish on it, and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring with you some of the fish you just caught.” So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, one hundred fifty-three of them. But even though there were so many fish, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.”

Now, none of them dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they new that it was Jesus. He came and took the bread and gave it to them and he did the same thing with the fish. This was the third time he had appeared to them since he had been raised from the dead.

After they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time, Jesus said to him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” A third time, Jesus said to him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter, upset that he had asked him a third time, “Do you love me?,” said to him, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. When you were a child, you used to fasten your own belt and go wherever you chose to go. But when you grow old you will stretch out your arms and others will fasten a belt around you and lead you to places that you may not choose to go.” (He said this in order to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) And when he has said this, he said to him, “Follow me.”

---

Pastor Cogan said something, almost in passing last Sunday, in his sermon reflecting on Pope Francis. It was a one-liner that caught my attention in the moment and that came back to me when I read today’s Gospel. He said that Pope Francis – faithful, humble servant that he was – “was a shepherd who smelled like his sheep.”

“… a shepherd who smelled like his sheep.”

Did anyone else catch that? Or remember that? Or wonder any more about that? I did, because I think it has a lot to say about where we find Jesus and his disciples – and especially, this famous conversation and command to Peter – on the beach at breakfast, not long after the resurrection.

“Do you love me?” … “Yes.” … “Feed my lambs.”

“Do you love me?” … “Yes.” … “Tend my sheep.”

“Do you love me?” … “Yes.” … “Feed my sheep.”

And you can’t blame Jesus for asking again, and again, and again. It’s no coincidence that Jesus asked him three times, after what had happened just days before, of course, when Peter, questioned just before the crucifixion, denied Jesus three times to strangers, just as Jesus warned him that he would.

So, this “Q and A” between Jesus and Peter – this whole experience on the beach after Easter, really – is chock full of symbolism and meaning. But, to the sheep and the lambs…

Too much of the time for us, “sheep” and especially “lambs” – so close to Easter Sunday, in the spring of the year – elicit a warm and fuzzy, soft and sweet, cute, cuddly, cozy kind of vibe – don’t you think? They are the stuff of Springtime and Easter baskets, right.

But the truth is, sheep are actually dirty and lambs are pretty dumb. (Here’s that video I’m sure many of us have seen of a sheep being both – dirty and dumb.)

And remember that even the “sheep” Jesus refers to so often, even before this brunch on the beach, are pitiable and lost and in need of redemption, too. Remember that the “sheep” in Jesus’ teachings need to be separated from the goats, they need to be found because they’ve gone astray, they need to be saved from the clutches of the wolves that surround them, and they need to listen for the sound of their shepherd’s voice to lead them. And besides, all of that, remember that the warm and fuzzy Lamb, in Jesus himself, gets sacrificed, after all. And remember that the Lamb of God, in Jesus Christ, showed up to do the dirty work of taking away the sin of the world.

There’s not much “warm and fuzzy” or “cute and cuddly” or “soft and sweet” about any of that, in the end. The Lord’s work is dirty work, to say the least. So it’s notable, for me, that Jesus uses “sheep” and “lambs” as a metaphor for Peter, the fisherman – again – this time around.

So when he talks about feeding sheep and tending to lambs, it seems to me, that Jesus is talking about the hard and holy stuff of life and discipleship for believers, this morning. And he’s implying that you really need to LOVE Jesus, in order to fully enter into the business of following him faithfully.

So we’re invited to wonder, what in the world that means for you and me? Where are the sheep and the lambs, the lost and the lonely, the scared, the sick, the suffering – and the stinky – in this world and in your life?

He makes it really hard for us to avoid the question. When Jesus asks us if we love him, who and how and what is he really asking us to consider? How many of us – like Pope Francis – smell like the sheep we’re called to love and serve?

For starters, it seems random, but it’s no mistake that the Gospel writer says there were 153 fish in the net that morning. It’s not likely anyone actually counted those fish. It’s a number that smarter people than me suggest is meant to symbolize the entirety of creation; or they say it symbolizes all the people and every nation of the world. So, it’s just another reminder that, as followers of Jesus, we’re meant to tend to, feed, care about, and love all people; from every nation; in every land; even when it’s hard. Even when it stinks. Do you love Jesus, even if it leads to people and to places where you may not want to go? Do you love Jesus, even if it leads people to your doorstep who you wish wouldn’t come?

Of course, we answer this question in other ways, too.

I hope, when we consider our financial commitments to the General Fund in the days ahead, we’ll hear that question, again: “Do you love me?” And I pray our commitments and the offerings that follow will be one meaningful way that we respond – even if it’s uncomfortable, unfamiliar, unconventional by the world’s standards and expectations.

I hope, as we’re filling out our Time and Talent Sheets for the year ahead, too, that Jesus’ question will ring in our ears, “Do you love me?” And that how we choose to serve the world through our little part of the kingdom at Cross of Grace will reveal our answer in a faithful way – and that we’ll do it even when it’s inconvenient sometimes; even if it’s new; even if it’s something we’ve done before or something we never thought we’d do at all. Even if it stinks from time to time, like helping to clean the church or to mow the lawn.

I hope, that as we live our lives in this broken and hurting world, that we see around us – on the evening news, in the hallways at school, in the house down the street, on the faces of strangers, and in the mirror – I hope we see the sheep and lambs of Jesus – the children of God – who are starving for, who need and who deserve to be fed and tended to and loved with the same grace we long for, need, and try to share around here.

I hope that when we wonder about what it looks like to love Jesus, that we aren’t afraid to get our hands dirty, to stop pretending that life in this world – our own lives or the lives of our neighbors – are always neat and tidy, soft and sweet, cute, cuddly, and convenient. I hope our lives of faith in this world leave us smelling like sheep.

Because the truth is we are all sheep. Each of us is a lamb. We all stink of the sin that covers us. And we’re all unable to be free of it on our own.

So Jesus shows up to inspire us and to encourage us and to love us, first – all so that we might follow him – like he invites Peter to do – into a new way of life. So that we’ll follow him into a kingdom that is built on service and sacrifice, generosity and grace, mercy and good news; a kingdom built with very clear directions from the resurrected and living love of Jesus Christ our Lord – who so faithfully feeds, tend to, and loves us – and the world – so that we can’t help but return the favor, in his name.

Amen

Anointing Now

John 12:1-8

Six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany, the home of Lazarus, whom he had raised from the dead. There they gave a dinner for him. Martha served and Lazarus was seated at the table with Jesus. Mary brought a pound of costly perfume, made of pure nard, anointed Jesus feet and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume.

Now Judas Iscariot, one of his disciples (the one who was about to betray him) said, “Why was this perfume not sold for 300 denarii and the money given to the poor?” (He said this, not because he cared about the poor, but because he used to keep the common purse and would steal from what was put into it.) Jesus said, “Leave her alone. She bought to so that she might keep it for the day of my burial. You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me.”

---

If you’ve been around for any number of the many funerals we’ve had at Cross of Grace in the last few months (many of you know we’ve had too many funerals around Cross of Grace in the last few months), you know that Pastor Cogan does a very deliberate, careful job of inviting and encouraging those gathered to act on their grief. I mean, he goes out of his way to encourage those who are grieving and celebrating the life of someone we’ve lost to do something about that sadness – to send a card, a note, a text; to make a phone call or an appointment for lunch; to tell the stories, to share the memories, to let others who are grieving know that you’re grieving, too.

It is worthwhile, compassionate, pastoral instruction. It’s how we grieve together, love one another, give thanks for and celebrate a life well, even after the big day of someone’s funeral – a day that can’t possibly contain or cover or resolve all of the grief we carry for those we’ve loved and lost.

And I think that’s something like what Mary is up to with Jesus this morning, only in a pre-emptive sort of way.

As the story goes, Jesus returns to Bethany – where he had been before and where he had gotten into trouble for raising his friend Lazarus from the dead. And, when “raising the dead” was added to the list of things Jesus could do – people kept following him and believing in him and wanting to see more of him. And all of this worried the powers that be, so they made plans to kill Jesus because of it. They’d even given orders for anyone who knew where he was to hand him over. So, when Jesus returned to Bethany – the scene of his crime as it were – trouble was brewing.

Which is what makes Mary’s anointing so remarkable.

It was like his days were numbered, and she knew it. Like, the end was near. Like his diagnosis was terminal. Like it was time to say and to do what needed to be said and done, before it was too late.

I think, like Pastor Cogan’s encouragement at a funeral service, Mary’s anointing was a worthwhile, compassionate, pastoral example of how to love one another, to give thanks for, and to celebrate a life well – on this side of a loved one’s grave.

It’s remarkable because there was plenty of other important work to be done. Maybe they should have been hiding Jesus away somehow, not calling attention to him by dousing him with perfume. Maybe they needed to devise a scheme to get him out of town or to plan his defense. They certainly didn’t need to be wasting their time and money on nard and anointing – as far as Judas was concerned, at least.

And isn’t that always the case? Aren’t we often too busy, too distracted, too much in denial about our own mortality – or about those that we love – to say the things we wish we had said? To do the things we pretend we can put off until tomorrow? To offer the forgiveness? To make the amends? To say the hard thing? To take the trip? To make the change? To take that leap of faith, convincing ourselves there will be time for that when … when we graduate; when the kids are older; when the nest is empty; when we’re finally retired; when we have more, or make more, or when… when… when…

But Mary and Jesus show us a different way. We may never know all that was running through Jesus’ mind as he readied himself for Calvary and for his own crucifixion. Was he full of fear or faith? Was he anxious and exhilarated? Was he full of doubt or determination? Was he at peace, calm, having second thoughts, resigned … some combination of all of these things?

Whatever it was, it makes me wonder about what he longed for most, in his most human heart of hearts, in those days before his dying. And I imagine he wanted the same things we would each long for if we were given enough advance notice of our demise: to be with the people we love and with the people who love us back; to say and hear and share all the things we hope we’ll have the courage, the faith, the time, and the words to say.

Which is why, I imagine, Jesus appreciated Mary’s anointing, like he did. She wasn’t trying to fix things or postpone the inevitable or make plans or busy herself with distractions. All she wanted to do was honor her teacher… to worship her Lord… to love her friend in a way that was deep and real and as true as could be.

Mary shows us something like what each of us would, could – and maybe should – choose for ourselves – or for those we love the most – if we are fortunate enough to have the chance for a last hurrah, a final goodbye, or time to think and pray and plan for our final moments with them.

So, what if we readied ourselves for the last days of Jesus’s life – for his entry into Jerusalem, for his last meal, his last words, his last breath – all of which we will regard through worship – and by way of at least one more funeral for Jerry Mielke – in the days ahead … what if we readied ourselves with a little Lenten discipline that hits more close to home?

What if, in honor of Mary’s expression of love, devotion and gratitude to Jesus, we not wait to do something like it … something kind, loving, generous and full of grace for someone we love – even if they’re not knocking on heaven’s door?

What if Mary’s moment with Jesus is an invitation for us not to wait until we can’t wait any longer? What if Mary’s anointing is a call for each of us to do NOW, what Pastor Cogan will remind, invite, and encourage us to do at the next funeral, and the next, and the next, and the one after that, too, I hope.

Let’s let Mary’s anointing be an invitation to say the thing now; to send the card, the note, the text; to make the phone call or the appointment for lunch; to tell the stories, to share the memories, to offer the gratitude before we can’t do that any longer.

Let’s be more generous. Let’s forgive like we mean it and let’s be forgiven like we deserve it, in a way only God’s grace can manage.

Let’s share moments of grace with no expectations and no strings attached and I’ll bet you three hundred denarii it will lead to joy. I’ll bet it will lead to peace and hope and all kinds of other good stuff, too. Because when we share that kind of love and devotion with another, Jesus comes to life among us, and our mortal selves put on immortality, in this life, on this side of eternity, and we stir up the power of God in our midst and we get a glimpse of the kingdom and of resurrection and of new life, on earth as it is in heaven.

Amen