Sheep

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

Lost Sheep, Lost Coins, Lost Dogs

Luke 15:1-10

Now all the tax collectors and sinners were coming near to listen to him. And the Pharisees and the scribes were grumbling and saying, “This fellow welcomes sinners and eats with them.” So he told them this parable:

“Which one of you, having a hundred sheep and losing one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness and go after the one that is lost until he finds it? When he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders and rejoices. And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there will be more joy in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance.

“Or what woman having ten silver coins, if she loses one of them, does not light a lamp, sweep the house, and search carefully until she finds it? When she has found it, she calls together her friends and neighbors, saying, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found the coin that I had lost.’ Just so, I tell you, there is joy in the presence of the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”


Princess.jpg

Growing up, I had a dog – a mutt – named Princess, who liked to run away. (pic) My family got Princess from our neighbors when their mutt of dog accidentally had a litter of puppies. My brother and I convinced my parents to let us keep one of those puppies, we named her Princess, and she spent the first few years of her life chained to a dog house, out by the detached garage at the church parsonage. Winter, spring, summer and fall, she lived chained to the dog house my grandfather built just for her.

My brother and I were too young to be good parents. My dad might say he was “old-school” when it came to dogs, not believing they belonged in the house. We thought he was just mean. (I actually think it had something to do with the fact that we lived in the church parsonage.)

Anyway, when we moved from Ohio to Michigan and bought our own house, Princess all of a sudden became an “inside dog.” I think this was partly meant to be a consolation prize for moving us, in the first place, and partly because we moved from a house in the country to a subdivision in the suburbs where her constant barking would not be tolerated by the neighbors who were all of a sudden so nearby.

Still, Princess spent a lot of time in this suburban backyard, not chained to that dog house anymore, but confined to a postage stamp-sized lot by a pretty wimpy privacy fence. It didn’t take her long to learn she could dig her way underneath the fence, behind the bush in the far corner of our yard. And when we filled her favorite digging holes with bricks and rocks, it didn’t take her long to learn she could just rip the boards off of the privacy fence and make her escape. It happened so often, we kept a regular supply of replacement boards on-hand so we could repair it every time Princess got the urge to run.

Eventually, we bought a staple gun and rolls of chicken wire which we attached to the inside of the fence to keep Princess where she belonged. (We were the classy neighbors on Park Ridge Road.) The chicken wire finally worked, for the most part, but Princess was still, always looking to run. If the back gate didn’t get latched, she would notice and hit the road. If we had company over – and they weren’t fast enough – Princess would dart out the front door before they could close it. I think she even learned how to open that front screen door with her nose, if we didn’t remember to lock it. “Princess,” it turns out, wasn’t so aptly named.

And every time she escaped, it would send my brother and me into a panic. We would roam and race around the streets chasing after her: bribing her with treats, luring her into back yards where we could trap her, trying to beat her in a foot-race, frankly, and tackle her, if nothing else. I’m sure it was a spectacle to behold. (Did I mention we were the classy neighbors on Park Ridge Road?)

Well, I thought about Princess when I read, again, about the lost sheep and the lost coin – and about the parable of the prodigal son, which follows these two parables, in Luke’s Gospel, actually.

Because Jesus tells these parables about lost things – lost sheep, lost coins and lost children – in response to the self-righteous grumbling of the scribes and the Pharisees, who notice that Jesus welcomes and eats with sinners. In other words, they were surprised – if not downright disgusted – that Jesus would bother with the losers; that he would break bread with the broken; that he would slum it with the sinners. In other words, why chase after that stupid dog who doesn’t want to follow the rules, or obey your ways, or be with you in the first place?

Of course, I didn’t know when I was a kid – and it certainly wasn’t my motivation at the time – but chasing Princess around the neighborhood is likely the only time in my entire life that I might have been more like Jesus than my father. (I found out, after preaching this sermon at our first service, with my dad in the room, that he remembers this all very differently!)

See, my dad never joined us in these chases, probably because I’m not sure he cared if that dog ever made her way home again, for all the reasons you’ve already heard. And he didn’t chase after Princess because she knew that about him, so he was probably the last person she would come to anyway. But mostly, my dad didn’t chase after our renegade dog because he was always just convinced that Princess would come home when she was good and ready; when she was tired of running; when she was hungry enough; or tired enough; or lonely enough, or whatever. And, to be fair, maybe the story of the Prodigal Son bears that out.

But this morning is about lost sheep and lost coins and my brother and I were never so sure. We had lost another dog once when she got hit by a car on those country roads, back in Ohio. So we chased after Princess like her life was at stake. We searched for her. We called after her. We cried for her and worried about her and prayed for her to come to her senses. And time after time after time we brought that stubborn, stupid, sneaky, sinful dog back home – against her will – but home… and safe… where she belonged.

And that is the hope and encouragement and Good News in Jesus’ parables this morning. Coins and sheep and stubborn dogs don’t always know they are lost – or loved – or worthy. Coins and sheep and stubborn dogs don’t always make choices from a place of wisdom and understanding. Sometimes, coins and sheep and stubborn dogs need to be sought after, searched for, saved by a love that’s greater than anything some might say they deserve.

And the same is true for you and me and for the rest God’s children, too, from time to time. We don’t always make choices from a place of wisdom and understanding and deep faith. We don’t always know we’re lost, or loved, in need or worthy of rescue. So we need to be pursued… sought after… and saved by the love of God, in Jesus Christ, which is greater than anything we deserve.

And I hope – because I believe it’s God’s hope – that once we know the truth of that; once we learn about how mightily God has pursued us in Jesus Christ, that we will find ways to go after the lost and the broken, to seek out the hurting and the hopeless with the love of God, like their lives depend on it. The lives of some, may indeed, depend on it, after all – those lost to addiction or homelessness or poverty or injustice. But this is worthwhile, faithful, life-giving work, in any case, because the lives of all people – sinners, every one of us – will be blessed and better when we make way and make room for all people at the table of God’s grace.

Amen