This sermon is very similar to the one I preached three years ago on the 3rd Sunday of Easter, but not identical, as this turned out to be a Parade Sunday.
Our readings today are
about two very different men, both of whom were leaders of the very
early church, and both of whom had made appallingly bad starts!
To take them in
chronological order, first of all there was Peter.
Simon, as his original
name was –
Peter was basically a
nickname Jesus gave him.
It means stone or rock;
if Jesus had been
speaking English, he might have nicknamed him “Rock” or “Rocky”.
“You're Rock, and on
this rock I will build my church.”
But the Greek word was
“Petros”, so we know him as Peter.
Anyway, as you know,
Peter was an impulsive type,
probably with a hot
temper.
We probably know more
about him than we know about any of the Twelve, as it is often his
comments and answers that are quoted.
And, sadly, the fact
that when push came to shove his courage failed him
and he pretended he
didn't know Jesus.
And our Gospel reading
today is all about his reinstatement.
The disciples have gone
back to Galilee after the Resurrection,
and have gone fishing.
I suppose they must
have thought that it was all over,
not realising how much
their lives were going to change.
And although the other
gospel-writers tell us that Peter had seen the risen Lord, he still
seems to have had trouble forgiving himself for the denials.
So when he realises
that it is Jesus on the lake shore, he grabs his tunic –
he will have been
working naked in the boat –
and swims to shore.
And they all have
breakfast together, and then Jesus turns to Peter.
You can imagine, can't
you, that Peter's heart started beating rather faster than usual.
Now, part of the whole
point of this story doesn't actually work in English, because we only
have one word for love. We say we love our mums and dads, or we love
cheese, or we love watching boxsets.
But the Greeks had
several different words for love. I'm not sure what they said about
cheese, or about whatever the local equivalent of watching boxsets
was, but they said eros to
describe the love between a man and a woman;
they
said storge, to describe affection, family love, the
sort of love you have for your mum and dad or brothers and sisters.
Then, and these are the
two words that are relevant to us here, they had the word philia,
which is friendship, comradeship, and the
word agape, a word only found in the New Testament,
which means God's love.
And when Jesus says to
Peter “Do you love me?” he uses the word agape.
Do you love me with
God's love.
And Peter can't quite
manage to say that, and so in his reply he uses philia.
“Yes, Lord, you know
I'm your friend”.
And Jesus commissions
him to “Feed my lambs.”
This happens again.
“Do you love me with
God's love?”
“Lord, you know I'm
your friend!”
“So take care of my
sheep.”
And then the third
time.
Well, that's logical,
there were three denials, so perhaps three reinstatements.
But this time it is
different:
“Simon, son of John,
are you my friend?”
Peter doesn't quite
know what to answer.
“Lord, you know
everything;
you know whether I'm
your friend or not!”
And Jesus tells him,
again, to feed His sheep.
And comments that he
will die a martyr's death, but instructs him to “Follow Me!”
And, we are told, Peter
did follow Jesus.
We know he was in the
upper room on the day of Pentecost, when the Holy Spirit came,
and it was he who
preached so powerfully that day that three thousand people were
converted.
We know he was
imprisoned, and miraculously released from prison;
there is that wonderful
scene where he goes and knocks on the door of the safe house,
interrupting the
prayer-meeting that has been called for the sole purpose of praying
for him,
and the girl who
answers the door is so shocked she leaves him standing there while
she goes and tells the others, and they don't believe her!
One of the funniest
scenes in the Bible, I think.
Anyway, we know that
Peter ended up in Rome, and, sadly, tradition tells us that he was
crucified upside-down, which those who wrote down John's gospel would
have known, which is arguably why it was mentioned.
But the point is, he
was completely and utterly forgiven and reinstated, and God used him
beyond his wildest dreams.
And so to St Paul.
Now Paul, at that stage
known as Saul, also needed a special touch from God.
He couldn't have been
more different from Peter, though.
He was born a Roman
citizen in the city of Tarsus.
He was well-educated,
and had probably gone to university,
contrasting with Peter,
who, it is thought, only had the basic education that all Jewish boys
of his time and class would have had.
He was a Pharisee, the
most learned and holy of the Jewish religious leaders of the day.
And, like so many
Pharisees, he felt totally threatened by this new religious movement
that was springing up, almost unstoppably.
It was, he thought,
complete nonsense, and not only that, it was blasphemy!
He set himself to hunt
down and kill as many believers as he could.
But God had other
ideas, and grabbed Saul on his way to Damascus.
And I expect you know
what happened then –
he was blind for three
days, and then a very brave man called Ananias came and laid hands on
him,
whereupon he could see
again, and then,
after some time out for
prayer and study,
he became the apostle
to the Gentiles, so-called, and arguably the greatest influence on
Christianity ever.
He had a knack for
putting the great truths about God and about Jesus into words, and
even today, Christians study his letters very seriously.
He started off by
persecuting believers, but in the end, God used him beyond his
wildest dreams!
So you see the common
link between these two men:
one an uneducated
provincial fisherman,
the other a suave and
sophisticated Pharisee, and a Roman citizen, to boot.
Peter knew how
dreadfully he had sinned;
Paul thought he was in
the right.
But they both needed a
touch from God, they both needed explicit forgiveness,
they both needed to
know that they were loved, no matter what they had done.
And they both
responded.
If this had just been a
story of how God spoke to two different men in two different ways,
that would be one thing.
It would be a fabulous
story in its own right.
It would show us that
we, too, no matter how dreadful we are,
no matter how prone to
screw things up,
we too could be loved
and forgiven and reinstated.
And this is, of course,
true. We are human.
We screw up –
that, after all, is
what sin is, when you come down to it –
the human propensity to
screw things up.
Which we all do in our
own particular ways.
It doesn't actually
matter how we mess up –
we all mess up in
different ways,
and sometimes we all
mess up in the same way.
It is part of being
human.
God's forgiveness is
constant and unremitting –
all we have to do is to
receive it.
There is no more
forgiveness for a terrorist
than there is for you
or for me.
And there is no less
forgiveness, either.
It is offered to us
all, everybody,
even the worst sort of
person you can possibly imagine.
Even a suicide bomber.
No nonsense about God
hating this group of people, or that group of people.
He doesn't.
He loves them, and
offers forgiveness to them as and where they need it,
just as he does to you,
and just as he does to
me.
But, as I implied, that
isn't quite the end of the story.
It would have been a
fabulous story, even if we had never heard of Peter or of Paul again.
There are one or two
fabulous stories in Acts that we don't know how they came out –
I'm thinking here of
Cornelius and the Ethiopian Eunuch;
both men became
Christians,
one through Peter's
ministry and one through Philip's,
but we are not told
what became of them.
We don't know what
became of the slave Onesimus who had to return home to Philemon,
bearing with him a
letter from Paul asking Philemon to receive him as a brother in
Christ.
But we do know what
happened to Peter and to Paul.
They both responded to
God's forgiveness.
They received it.
They offered themselves
to Christ's service and, through their ministry, millions of people
down the centuries have come to know and love the Lord Jesus.
Of course, they were
exceptional.
We know their stories,
just as we know the stories of John Wesley,
or of people like Lord
Baden-Powell, Dwight L Moody, Gladys Aylward,
Eric Liddell or Billy
Graham.
If you don't know who
those people are, look them up on Wikipedia after the service.
But there are countless
thousands of men and women whose stories we don't know,
who received God's
forgiveness,
offered themselves to
His service,
and through whose
ministry many millions of men and women came to know and love the
Lord.
Some of them went to
live and work somewhere else,
but many of them lived
out a life of quiet service exactly where they were.
Some of them, sadly,
were imprisoned or even put to death for their faith,
but many died in their
own beds.
And you see where this
is going, don't you?
Now, I know as well as
you do that this is where we all start to wriggle and to feel all hot
and bothered,
and reckon we can't
possibly be doing enough in Christ's service,
or that we are a rotten
witness to his love and forgiveness.
Perhaps some of you
here this morning aren't quite ready to call yourselves Jesus' people
just yet. That's okay – Jesus still loves you and forgives you,
and when you are ready to be His person, you just say, and He will
accept you.
Others of you will
already have made that commitment – some of us did so many years
ago, and for others it's more recent.
And we are told that
when the Holy Spirit comes,
we will be witnesses to
Christ –
not that we ought to
be, or we must be, but that we will be!
And I know that many of
you are doing all you can to serve the Lord exactly where you are,
and I'm sure you're doing a wonderful job of it, too.
But maybe it never
occurred to you to offer.
Maybe you accepted
Jesus' forgiveness, and promised to be his person, and rather left it
at that.
That's fine, of course.
For many of you, school
and your studies have to come first, and that's absolutely as it
should be.
God wouldn't ask you to
do anything that would badly interfere with that. But what if you're
missing out?
You see, the giving and
offering isn't all on our side –
how could it be?
And when we offer
ourselves to Christ's service, you wouldn't believe –
or perhaps you already
know –
the wonderful gifts He
gives to help you do whatever is is you're asked to do.
I know that sometimes
people have even wondered if God could possibly be calling them to do
whatever it is,
as they want to do it
so badly that it might be just their own wants!
But, you see, God
wouldn't call you to do something you would hate, would he?
And so what if it did
end badly?
Look at a young lawyer,
in a country far from here, who was thrown into prison for his faith,
which led him to stand up for what he believed was right against the
government of the day.
He left his country
when he was released from prison –
and to this day he will
tell you that it was knowing his Bible as well as he did that helped
him stay sane while he was in it.
And you will have seen
him on television, and maybe even you older ones have met him, as he
used to be a local vicar, and now he's the Archbishop of York.
I'm rather waffling
now, so I'll shut up.
But I do just want to
leave this with you:
Perhaps, today, you
just needed to be reminded that God loves and forgives you, whoever
you are and whatever you have done.
Perhaps, today, you
needed to be reminded that when you are ready, you need to commit
yourself to being Jesus' person and then you'll really know that love
and forgiveness for yourself.
But it maybe you need
to think:
have you ever offered
yourself to God's service as Peter did, as Paul did, as so many down
the years have?
And is God, perhaps,
calling you to something new?
Amen.
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