"When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep." – John 21:15-17
[Sermon preached at FPC in Abbeville, Louisiana
on the occasion of the commissioning of Leigh Petersen–Rachal as their Pastor.]
In preparing for this sermon I did what I have done in other times of need. I called Leigh. Truth be told, I was calling in response to her expression of care for my needs with my upcoming move, and it dawned on me that I was at a loss for something to say that might be worthy of this occasion.
In her kind and gentle way, Leigh reminded me of a conversation we had before she moved to Abbeville. Apparently, she had been asked to preach on this very text and was confronted by the expectations that it placed upon her. Who was she to feed these sheep? What do they even eat? She was no shepherd. She was an advocate for the poor and the disenfranchised!
She said something like, “God really must have made a mistake. This gospel message can’t be for me.” I wish I could tell you that I gave her some wise counsel, but I just remember listening. They tell you in seminary that sometimes the best thing you can do is to listen and make sure the person knows you heard them. I can’t say that being quiet is a particular skill set of mine, but God finds a way in spite of us sometimes. Amen?
In reflection, Leigh told me about two other points of discernment along the way. One was a flier her daughter found in a parking lot for a Bible study with that same passage. The illustration may not have been a particularly Reformed portrayal of Jesus, but there he was – with bread and cup – as if to say, “Come on, Leigh. Feed my sheep.”
While I’m sure there have been many other nudges like these, particularly while worshiping with the congregation in Abbeville, another divine directive came from the reverence of her co-workers at ARCH in those times when she led worship on Zoom during the pandemic. I should say that my opinion is that those who work for ARCH – regardless of their beliefs – are doing the Lord’s work on the regular, so it was no small thing for them to allow a space of reverence while dealing with the constant crisis of the lack of housing in Acadiana (particularly during the pandemic).
All of this is to say that Leigh certainly feels called to this work, and that she is probably the last one to admit what we all know – that she is really good at feeding sheep. I say this as someone whom she has called her Pastor, and as someone whom she called to be a Pastor (she was on the search committee that brought me to Lafayette), and as someone who has relied on her energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.
Those words are all part of our ordination vows, and Leigh has never failed to fulfill them, but let’s give Leigh a break and look at what this text has to say to all of us about God’s hope for the church. “The church?” you say. “Isn’t this about Peter, the one on whom Jesus will build the church? Isn’t this about the shepherds? I-I-I-i just want to be a sheep!”
Ok, sure, but let’s see what we can learn from Peter’s faith. Traditionally you may have been told that this is Peter’s chance for redemption. He denied Jesus three times. Jesus asks him three times, “Peter, do you love me?” An exasperated Peter says, “Yes, Lord. You know I do!” three times.
Do you know what Jesus didn’t say? First, he never accused Peter of anything or even implied there was any brokenness between them, and second, he never said, “I forgive you.” Karoline Lewis of Luther Seminary interprets this to mean that the problem Jesus is illustrating is not Peter’s denial of Jesus, but his denial of himself.
In John’s gospel, Peter is asked if he is a disciple of Jesus, whereas in the other three, he is asked if he knows Jesus. In those cases, he denies knowing Jesus. In John’s gospel, he denies his own identity as a disciple and says, “I am not.” Here, Lewis suggests that Jesus is not trapping Peter or goading him into a response so much as confirming Peter’s identity as a disciple and as a shepherd.
Touching back on that idea of Peter as the “chosen one,” I find it interesting how easy it is to identify with Peter’s impetuousness everywhere else in the gospel. He was the first to claim Jesus as Messiah. He was the one to call for building booths on the mountaintop when Jesus was transfigured. He was the one who stepped out of the boat in faith and nearly drowned, and he was the one to cut off the ear of Malchus.
It is pretty easy to identify with that guy, but this guy – the one Jesus tells to feed his sheep – is the same guy. This question, “Do you love me?” is not a test of affirmation for Jesus. It is a question of identity for Peter. Does his love for Jesus as the self-revelation of God; as the risen Christ; as the embodiment of compassion… does Peter's love for the work of God which was begun in Jesus give value and meaning to his life? If it does, then Peter will feed the sheep of Jesus.
From that point of view, Jesus is not worried about Peter denying who he is. Jesus is concerned with Peter’s denial of self. At this point in the story, Jesus had already appeared to the disciples. Then a few days later Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” Which essentially meant, “Wow. That was a pretty wild ride, but I’m going back to my old way of living.”
Jesus confronts Peter as a leader amongst the disciples, but this story reminds all who follow in the way of Jesus that love is a transformative thing. At the center of this teaching is not the affirmation of Jesus so much as it is the affirmation of Peter and the work that God is going to do through him, and perhaps even through you, and maybe even me.
See, we can paint Peter as the hero, but that’s not what our Reformed heritage teaches us. We affirm that we are a priesthood of believers. We are all sheep and shepherds seeking the transformative love of God that gives our vision voice and inspires courageous faith that stands firm in the face of hunger – whether it is spiritual or physical.
Even this service is a co-mission-ing, a word that literally means that we are in service together! The beautiful thing is that God has called Leigh and endowed her with certain gifts, just as God has called and gifted each of us to meet each other's needs and care for the world around us.
While I imagine there are those here, just as on any given Sunday, with varying levels of faith or comfort around the language of faith, I hope you will take heart in the greater hope that moves us all toward the good.
What I am saying is that, if you truly believe that “life exists and identity; that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse,” then who are you to doubt your voice? Confronted with this truth, how can we say anything but, “Yes, Lord. You know I love you!” and what else may we expect but the invitation to care for those in need?
So it is with each of us as we approach the table of grace and mercy; as we consider what it means to be in mission together; and as we remember that we are both sheep and shepherd – each endowed with certain gifts, each fed by the opportunity of loving as we have been loved.
At least I pray it may be so for me, and that it may be so for you, and all to the glory of God. Now and always. Amen.
In her kind and gentle way, Leigh reminded me of a conversation we had before she moved to Abbeville. Apparently, she had been asked to preach on this very text and was confronted by the expectations that it placed upon her. Who was she to feed these sheep? What do they even eat? She was no shepherd. She was an advocate for the poor and the disenfranchised!
She said something like, “God really must have made a mistake. This gospel message can’t be for me.” I wish I could tell you that I gave her some wise counsel, but I just remember listening. They tell you in seminary that sometimes the best thing you can do is to listen and make sure the person knows you heard them. I can’t say that being quiet is a particular skill set of mine, but God finds a way in spite of us sometimes. Amen?
In reflection, Leigh told me about two other points of discernment along the way. One was a flier her daughter found in a parking lot for a Bible study with that same passage. The illustration may not have been a particularly Reformed portrayal of Jesus, but there he was – with bread and cup – as if to say, “Come on, Leigh. Feed my sheep.”
While I’m sure there have been many other nudges like these, particularly while worshiping with the congregation in Abbeville, another divine directive came from the reverence of her co-workers at ARCH in those times when she led worship on Zoom during the pandemic. I should say that my opinion is that those who work for ARCH – regardless of their beliefs – are doing the Lord’s work on the regular, so it was no small thing for them to allow a space of reverence while dealing with the constant crisis of the lack of housing in Acadiana (particularly during the pandemic).
All of this is to say that Leigh certainly feels called to this work, and that she is probably the last one to admit what we all know – that she is really good at feeding sheep. I say this as someone whom she has called her Pastor, and as someone whom she called to be a Pastor (she was on the search committee that brought me to Lafayette), and as someone who has relied on her energy, intelligence, imagination, and love.
Those words are all part of our ordination vows, and Leigh has never failed to fulfill them, but let’s give Leigh a break and look at what this text has to say to all of us about God’s hope for the church. “The church?” you say. “Isn’t this about Peter, the one on whom Jesus will build the church? Isn’t this about the shepherds? I-I-I-i just want to be a sheep!”
Ok, sure, but let’s see what we can learn from Peter’s faith. Traditionally you may have been told that this is Peter’s chance for redemption. He denied Jesus three times. Jesus asks him three times, “Peter, do you love me?” An exasperated Peter says, “Yes, Lord. You know I do!” three times.
Do you know what Jesus didn’t say? First, he never accused Peter of anything or even implied there was any brokenness between them, and second, he never said, “I forgive you.” Karoline Lewis of Luther Seminary interprets this to mean that the problem Jesus is illustrating is not Peter’s denial of Jesus, but his denial of himself.
In John’s gospel, Peter is asked if he is a disciple of Jesus, whereas in the other three, he is asked if he knows Jesus. In those cases, he denies knowing Jesus. In John’s gospel, he denies his own identity as a disciple and says, “I am not.” Here, Lewis suggests that Jesus is not trapping Peter or goading him into a response so much as confirming Peter’s identity as a disciple and as a shepherd.
Touching back on that idea of Peter as the “chosen one,” I find it interesting how easy it is to identify with Peter’s impetuousness everywhere else in the gospel. He was the first to claim Jesus as Messiah. He was the one to call for building booths on the mountaintop when Jesus was transfigured. He was the one who stepped out of the boat in faith and nearly drowned, and he was the one to cut off the ear of Malchus.
It is pretty easy to identify with that guy, but this guy – the one Jesus tells to feed his sheep – is the same guy. This question, “Do you love me?” is not a test of affirmation for Jesus. It is a question of identity for Peter. Does his love for Jesus as the self-revelation of God; as the risen Christ; as the embodiment of compassion… does Peter's love for the work of God which was begun in Jesus give value and meaning to his life? If it does, then Peter will feed the sheep of Jesus.
From that point of view, Jesus is not worried about Peter denying who he is. Jesus is concerned with Peter’s denial of self. At this point in the story, Jesus had already appeared to the disciples. Then a few days later Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” Which essentially meant, “Wow. That was a pretty wild ride, but I’m going back to my old way of living.”
Jesus confronts Peter as a leader amongst the disciples, but this story reminds all who follow in the way of Jesus that love is a transformative thing. At the center of this teaching is not the affirmation of Jesus so much as it is the affirmation of Peter and the work that God is going to do through him, and perhaps even through you, and maybe even me.
See, we can paint Peter as the hero, but that’s not what our Reformed heritage teaches us. We affirm that we are a priesthood of believers. We are all sheep and shepherds seeking the transformative love of God that gives our vision voice and inspires courageous faith that stands firm in the face of hunger – whether it is spiritual or physical.
Even this service is a co-mission-ing, a word that literally means that we are in service together! The beautiful thing is that God has called Leigh and endowed her with certain gifts, just as God has called and gifted each of us to meet each other's needs and care for the world around us.
While I imagine there are those here, just as on any given Sunday, with varying levels of faith or comfort around the language of faith, I hope you will take heart in the greater hope that moves us all toward the good.
What I am saying is that, if you truly believe that “life exists and identity; that the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse,” then who are you to doubt your voice? Confronted with this truth, how can we say anything but, “Yes, Lord. You know I love you!” and what else may we expect but the invitation to care for those in need?
So it is with each of us as we approach the table of grace and mercy; as we consider what it means to be in mission together; and as we remember that we are both sheep and shepherd – each endowed with certain gifts, each fed by the opportunity of loving as we have been loved.
At least I pray it may be so for me, and that it may be so for you, and all to the glory of God. Now and always. Amen.
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