Day 7: Changed by Feeding -
John 21:15-17 Feed my sheep
An address by Revd Ray Anglesea
This year in the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity we have been looking at some words of St Paul who proclaimed “We shall be changed,” (by the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ -1 Corinthians 15 v57). The victory envisaged is not the result of force but achieved by the Son of Man who came not to serve, but to serve, as St. Mark tells us, was prepared to suffer for those whom he served, as we read in the letter of Peter. Victory is not to be expectedly immediately. Those who seek must wait patiently as Revd Vince Fenton reminded us on Wednesday, it is to be a victory of good overcome by evil with good, as Capt Mark Adamson reminded us on Wednesday, it is brought about by the peace of the risen Lord and established by God’s steadfast love as Sister Lucy reminded us yesterday. And it bears fruit in care for those in need, feed my lambs, feed my sheep as I shall be reflecting today. This vision of Christ’s victory is not brutal and coercive. There is no need to fear it as arrogant or threatening. On the contrary it is rooted in service and the readiness to suffer, and in patience, peace and love.
To feed. We can read that verb on various levels. There is some truth in the English proverb that a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I married a beautiful wife who loves cooking, the kitchen is my wife’s province, now semi retired I tread carefully in her territory, her roast beef and Yorkshire puddings, trifles, Christmas puddings and chocolate cakes are beyond compare, her sea food pasta, profiteroles and sticky toffee pudding make my mouth water. With such a large and extended family, daily meals were prepared as for an army, friends, family and student neighbours would gather around the table for birthdays, celebrations and anniversaries, 19 I think we had in one famous sitting. 30 or so years of married bliss tired of sitting on an assortment of chairs and stools we have just acquired a new dining room table – it came with 10 matching chairs. My third son, Tom, has taken up cooking as a career, preparing fancy meals in a variety of restaurants around the world, London, New York, Toronto, Sydney, for such well known chefs, Heston Blumenthal, Gordon Ramsey, Thomas Kellar. Last year he worked in the restaurant voted the best restaurant in the world, Noma, Copenhagen. Pete my fourth son has too joined the catering world, opening a cafe Flat White in Durham. When the Lord prepares a table before me as we heard in that well loved psalm 23, I like to imagine that it will be groaning with luscious and extravagant food, the heavenly banquet, like the Harvest teas we had at St Andrew’s many years ago, but perhaps without a whiff of autumnal Chrysanthemums.
Jesus instructs his disciples to feed and care for the world’s poor and
hungry, this we do in a variety of ways through many relief organisations. But
we can read this passage at a more profound and deeper level. Three times at the lakeside Jesus asks the question ‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?' There's a memory of the first time Peter set eyes on Jesus; how he looked at him and said: ‘you are Simon, son of John'. Three times Peter replies in the affirmative. Three times Jesus charges him to care for his flock. Three times, for each of the three times Peter had denied him on the night of the passion. Jesus in his gracious forgiveness gave Peter the chance to wipe out the memory of the threefold denial by a threefold declaration of love. Jesus reinstated Peter. If you love me, Jesus said, then give your life to shepherding the sheep and the lambs of my flock. We can only prove that we love Jesus by loving others. Love is the greatest privilege in the world, but love also brings the greatest responsibility in the world. Love brought Peter a cross – later Jesus goes on to predict that Peter too will lay down his life for the sake of the Good Shepherd whom he follows. For where Jesus has gone is precisely where Peter must also go for love of him. It will be the cost of discipleship for Peter, of saying yes to the summons of the risen Lord, ‘follow me'.
‘Simon, son of John, do you love me?' ‘Yes, Lord, you know that I am your friend'. To be a friend of Jesus means loving him personally, passionately, and publicly, because that is the way he loves us. It means embracing the price of friendship, not caring about my life so much that I wouldn't be prepared to give it up for him. It means imitating the Good Shepherd not only in caring for his people, feeding his flock, but in laying down his life for them.
In the power of the resurrection Peter can now put Maundy Thursday behind him, when he so dismally failed the test of friendship. Easter has transformed and changed the coward of the courtyard into the loving friend of the lakeside. And I dare say that of all the disciples, his journey is most like ours, for we too need constantly to be enticed from the twilight of half-commitment into the full day of loyal love, ‘out of darkness into his marvellous light' as a Letter of Peter says. We need to be able to say: ‘yes Lord, we are your friends'. We need conversion of life, we need to be transformed, turned round, not once but each day we live.
Jesus asks us to live and die for him, just as he died and lives for us, even if it takes us where we do not wish to go. Perhaps on good days we can begin to wish to go there for his sake, for where the Master is, there will his servant be. And whatever awaits us on that road, we know that we must embody and express our love of Jesus by feeding his sheep. For Peter and for us, that includes living within the circle of love we call the Christian community. But love always looks beyond itself. To be friends of Jesus means being friends to those he especially cherishes: the vulnerable and voiceless and poor, those whom he calls his brothers and sisters, those to whom we are instructed to feed.
Once Peter said, when Jesus asked if the disciples would abandon him: ‘Lord, to whom can we go? You have the words of eternal life'. Perhaps the words came too easily. Sometimes they do in a fit of enthusiasm. ‘I will lay down my life for you' he'd exclaimed in that moment of heightened intensity in the upper room, hardly knowing what he was saying. But he knows now. At the lakeside Jesus puts the test once more, and this time he rises to the challenge. ‘Lord, you know that I am your friend. You know I could not love you more.' On the other side of the passion he understands what this means, what it will cost him. It is his greatest moment. I ask myself, and I ask you, whether ours is yet to come, and how passionate we shall be when it does.
Paul may have been the great orator who voyaged and adventured far in the mission of the gospel, John, theologian and writer it appears had great insight into the mind of God, but it was to Peter who was given the role of the Great Shepherd of Christ’s people. It was Peter who had the honour and the lovely task of being the shepherd of the sheep of Christ. And here is where we too can follow in the steps of Peter. We may not be able to think like John or go to the ends of the earth like Paul. But each of us can guard someone from going astray, and each one of us can feed the lambs of Christ with spiritual and physical food.
Amen
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