Grace and peace to you from God…
I don’t watch too much evening TV because I spend a lot of nights at meetings and doing visits, but I have gotten hooked on the series “Lost”. It’s a strange show about a plane crash on a South Sea island and all the survivors are people who are haunted by their pasts. One man was in a mental hospital and is filled with self loathing because of body image issues. Another is a con artist whose life was destroyed by his parent’s violent relationship. A beautiful young lady is haunted by her past – she is a fugitive from the law because she killed her abusive step father. A hero of the show is a doctor whose father, a famous surgeon’s alcoholism created terrible destruction in his life. Each of the characters is not only lost on an island, they are also metaphorically lost as well.
“Lost ness” being lost – without direction, abandoned, without hope of rescue and alone – even when surrounded by others is part of the human condition. We are like children in so many ways – we want to be independent, we want to be in control of our lives and our destinies, yet we don’t want to take responsibility for our mistakes, poor judgment, self-indulgence and sin. We want a rescuer. We want to be safe. Like the old proverb says “We want our cake and eat it too.”
Robert Bellah, a research scientist at UC Berkeley, defined the spirit of our age as a spirit of ontological individualism. He wrote: Modern Americans believe they are entitled to define life’s ultimate goals in terms of personal choice, freedom in terms of being left alone by others to believe and act as one wishes, and justice as a matter of opportunity for individuals to pursue happiness as each person defines it for her or himself. This spirit presses individualism to its ultimate limits, but the truth is we are profoundly social beings. We live in a community, as communal persons. We need each other. We are defined by the re lationships of family, neighborhood, friends and kinships. These relationships obligate us to limit our individual pursuit of happiness and yield to the greater group from which we take life.
The disciples are at the Sea of Tiberius which was the Roman name for the Sea of Galilee. They, seven of them, have left Jerusalem and gone back home and resumed their old lives. They were fisherman, they become fisherman again. They too are lost. They spent three years in intimate association with Jesus. They traveled around with him, prayed with, studied scripture, and hung on his every word. They watched him heal, cure and restore every imaginable human ailment and malady. They saw him raise the dead. Their lives were changed in every imaginable way by him but he was crucified and died. He was dead and they were left. They were alone. They were lost in a profound way.
Yet Jesus finds them.
He finds them in the Upper Room
He finds them in their old stomping grounds at their old jobs fishing. Jesus is a good shepherd. He knows where to look for us when we are lost. He knows our habits. He knows us.
Jesus, we presume, has also donned his chef’s hat because he had cooked breakfast, “al fresco” for them. What a central image of Jesus!. There is always food. He eats with Zacheaus, Simon the Pharisee, Mary and Martha, he feeds 5000, his enemies call him a glutton and his last act on earth is to direct his disciples to eat together and in their eating they will somehow eat him. He gives them his very life, just as he does you and me.
They have been up all night fishing, caught nothing, but he tells them to cast their nets one more time, and they make the catch of their lives. He has done this before. He turned water into wine at a Canaanite wedding and he has moved shoals of fish into their nets before. Jesus is God. They always knew it at some level, but his crucifixion and death brought his divinity into question. Now his resurrection has cancelled their doubts.
Then he and Peter have this strange conversation. Jesus begins “Do you love me?” Peter confesses his love and then Jesus gives him an order, a command. “Feed my sheep?”
This happens three times and Peter at last feels hurt. Yet it is Peter who denied Jesus three times. St. John mentions that this was Jesus third appearance to the disciples. 3, 3, 3 the symbolism is unmistakable.
The question remains what does “feed my sheep” mean? We are the church. We are Peter’s descendents. We are 21st century Peters. The command to “feed my sheep” has fallen on us.
For nearly 20 years Dennis Muryak an ELCA missionary has been working in Tanzania helping Tanzanian farmers to build fish ponds. All that is needed is a spring or source of water, a shovel and a few fingerlings and a farmer becomes a major producer of protein in a desperately poor country.
First, the pond has to be dug. It takes 50 thousand shovelfuls of dirt to be moved to create the pond. It takes weeks to dig the pond. But once that’s over, in six months time the farmer can harvest basketfuls of fish to sell. He has to grow some grain for fish food but the climate and soil are cooperative. His family will never starve again. Dennis, one man, has been responsible for the establishment of more than 10 thousand ponds in North Central Tanzania. Your benevolence dollars has made this work possible. Lives have been changed in rea l, tangible ways. Lives saved. “Sheep been fed.”
We also feed sheep right here at Holy Communion. We call the word of God food. Jesus calls his word “the bread of life”. When tempted he replies to the tempter, “We cannot live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.”
It is always my delight to be the spokesperson for God’s word - because people come to the church looking for solid food. They want the word of truth. They are looking for the security and peace that only God can give.
I read a story in an old issue of “Guideposts” we get at our house. It was the story of Steve, a young man who had a great sensitivity to the faith, and a deep internal moral sense. He wanted to do the right thing. He wanted to be honest and upright. He dreaded cheating anyone or hurting anyone. He had a beautiful giving Spirit.
Steve had never been baptized – his parents had only had a marginal relationship with God. They had taken him to Sunday School off and on for a few years, but he never got exposed to worship. He married a Christian girl and they began to have a family and he wanted peace. There was a lost quality to his life. He got baptized, started to come to church but he had a framing business in a seaside town and Sunday was a busy day for him. He wanted to come to church and devote himself to God on Sunday, but he feared there wouldn’t be enough income unless he worked Sunday’s too.
His Pastor simply told him. Steve, you’re going to be lost until you trust God at his word. We are all full of fears that they’ll never by enough. God says, “Do not be anxious”, I will feed you.
Steve took the plunge – the leap of faith. He was fed. He ate content.
“Feed my sheep”, Jesus said. Especially those who are lost.
Amen
Who We Are