John 21:15-17
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, hurt 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.”
I hope you’ll notice a theme of sorts over the course of the next few weeks both in my Sunday morning sermons and in the newsletter article I hope you’ll read after you either pick it up on your way out today, get it in the mail soon or find it online – at our website or in e-mails. And I hope all of this carries over into all we’re up to in a million ways around here.
I’m thinking about life “on the other side of Easter” these days and trying to take advantage of our time together in worship – and this bully pulpit I have – to invite you to join me in that. In the next few weeks, I hope to share information and invitations and inspiration together about how – now that we’re living life blessed with the good news of God’s grace and mercy, love and new life – hopefully we’ll be encouraged in some new ways about what that can look like around here, in our personal lives, as part of our life together, and for the sake of the world we’re called to serve.
The short of the long is, I want to share some scoop with you all that is as practical as it is holy about what we’re trying to accomplish as a congregation. And I’m making no bones about the fact that we’re in a place – not just on the other side of Easter, but as we try to get to the other side of this pandemic – where we could use as many hands on deck as we can get to make it all happen.
(If you’re one of the many people who join us online and who may wonder if any of this is going to apply to you, please bear with me. I believe that if what we do as a church is faithful in any way, it should be meaningful for anybody to know about and join us in – however you’re able – or at least pray about on our behalf.)
Quite frankly, I’m starting to feel called back to my Mission Developing ways again because I think there’s so much potential – post-Easter and post-pandemic when that time actually arrives – to do Church differently and with an eye to the growing, changing community and world around us these days. I know we’re all excited about “getting back to some of whatever ‘normal’ was” for us before COVID-19 upset the applecart of the Church. And I’m grateful for that, too.
But COVID has also revealed and accelerated a lot of need for change in the way we live as the body of Christ in the world, and in the next few weeks, I hope to share some of what that could look like for us at Cross of Grace.
Today, I want to start by talking about and celebrating the Stephen Ministry program as a part of all this. We’re going to commission this cohort of 14 Stephen Ministers shortly and give thanks for the last six months of time they’ve invested in learning and praying and preparing to serve as Christian caregivers. And I love this handout that Amanda Terrell found – which is in your bulletins – and how it describes Stephen Ministers as “The After People.”
I won’t read it all for you, but it describes beautifully what Stephen Ministers have been called to do: this idea that they offer care and love and conversation and companionship for people “after” the funeral; “after” the diagnosis; “after” the baby arrives or “after” the last child leaves home; “after” your friends and family have heard about whatever it is too many times, but you still have more to say… you get the idea.
It is a beautiful thing to be one of these “after” people. And it’s a beautiful thing to receive care from one of these “after” people, too.
This is what our Stephen Ministers have been learning to do over the last six months – to walk alongside others who are hurting or struggling or lost or longing, in any number of ways – to get through something they shouldn’t have to do, or don’t want to do, or can’t do as meaningfully, all by themselves.
One of the first things I learned – day one of my own Stephen Ministry Leader training – was how I wished we would have/could have/should have made this ministry a part of our life together way back in the day. It would have changed the DNA of who we are and how we can be different – and even more faithful, I believe – as a congregation. To follow Jesus by teaching and encouraging and preparing and commissioning one another to care for and tend to and love one another – and not leaving all of that only up to the Pastors of our congregation, I mean.
Even though that’s the way it is in too many congregations – and no small part of the reason there has been this phenomenon that’s become known as “the Great Resignation” in clergy circles in the last two years – it was never meant to be that way. Just ask Simon Peter…
Just before what we heard in this morning’s Gospel story, Jesus had surprised the disciples by showing up on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias, after they’d spent a long night and very early morning NOT catching any fish. From the shore, Jesus tells them to cast their net on the other side of the boat, which they do, and they catch so many fish they can barely get them into the boat.
And then, after they grill some fish for breakfast, Jesus grills Peter with this little Q and A of his own.
“Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me?,” Jesus asks him.
“Yes. Yes. Yes.” Peter promises.
“Then feed my lambs… Tend my sheep… Feed my sheep.” Jesus commands him.
“Care for my people. Tend to my children. Love one another.”
“Do for others what I’ve done for you.” “Love your neighbor as yourself.”
And I didn’t pick this Gospel reading because it was going to be Stephen Ministry Commissioning Sunday. This is always the assigned reading on this Sunday after Easter, because this is just who and how we’re supposed to be on the other side of the resurrection.
See, none of this was or should have been news for Peter or for the others who were having breakfast that morning. Jesus had been asking and showing them how to do all of this all along the way. The difference was that everything had changed. Everything had changed because they were “after” people now, each and every one of them, just like you and me.
People after the crucifixion and death of Good Friday, I mean.
People after the resurrection and empty tomb of Easter.
People after that moment in the upper room we heard about last week, when Jesus showed them his hands and his side; after he breathed on them and delivered the Holy Spirit; after he gave them authority to forgive or retain the sins of others; after he gave them every reason to believe that he was who he said he had always been.
And the good news is, we’re all “after people,” people. We all live on the other side of Easter’s good news in a way that is meant to move us to love differently and to hope more boldly and to give more generously and to humble ourselves more vulnerably and to serve more willingly and to follow Jesus more faithfully.
So today … yes … we’re giving thanks for and blessing in a special way our Stephen Ministers and all they stand to add to our life together. But I’m praying every one of you will be praying about and planning for how to love and follow and live more like Jesus on the other side of Easter … as a Partner in Mission with Cross of Grace … loved, freed, and forgiven as one of God’s “after people,” just the same.
Amen
