Festival of Friendship
at Epiphany on
Grace, mercy and peace to you through Jesus Christ who has come to rescue us from ourselves. Amen.
John 21:1-11 Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the
The Friend of the
fallen
1. When we let Jesus
down
2. He picks us back up
During a recent pastor’s conference, the pastors in attendance were listening to papers and presentations on confirmation practices and methods. The pastors were concerned how they and their congregations could stem the tide of losing so many teenagers and college students after they are confirmed. Some of the pastors suggested that part of the problem lies with the youth of today – poor work ethic, coddled, not challenged, etc. One pastor stood up, though, and presented a very different take on the whole subject. He suggested that the problem didn’t lie in the youth of today, but in humanity of old, primarily within himself.
He told the group: “I am a pastor of a small, not-growing church. I am not always faithful in preparing sermons or putting in the long hours needed for research and study for Bible classes. I kind of slough my way through confirmation classes.
“On any given day I am capable of being a jerk to my wife and family. I am inherently insecure which causes me to compensate with bouts of arrogance. I have a terrible temper. I don’t like confrontation, so when people irritate me, I often hide from them. I am impulsive, which causes me to say things I shouldn’t and make promises I cannot keep. I am inconsistent.
“My walk with Christ is a stuttering, stumbling, bumbling attempt to follow him. At times Christ’s presence is so real in my life my heart is all-aflutter and I can’t stop the tears, and then, without warning, my heart is hard and I can’t find him. Some days my faith is strong, impenetrable, and immovable, and some days my faith is weak, pathetic, helpless, knocked about like a paper cup floating on the ocean in the middle of a hurricane.
“I have been a Christian since my baptism as an infant. I have gone to all the classes and sat through all the Sunday school lessons. I am familiar with the vocabulary of faith, and I am often asked to give advice about matters of faith. But I am still a mess. I am light-years away from being able to say with Paul, “Copy me.” I am 56 years old and still struggling—a flawed, clumsy, unstable follower of Jesus. A bona fide failer. The teenagers of today are no different than me – and I’m the pastor.”
Whew. Brutally honest. Yet very true. He could have been speaking for me. Maybe for you, too. I think he’s right, though. The problem isn’t with a certain age group. The problem is with all of us. We are all flawed, clumsy, unstable followers of Jesus. We are bona fide failers. We are Peters. If there is one person in the Bible that most of us is like, it is the disciple, Peter. Today we see that Peter was a failure who needed a friend – the best friend there ever was, Jesus, who is the friend of the fallen.
1. When we let Jesus down
Have you ever felt like you let somebody down? A spouse, a boss, a teammate, your military buddies? It’s not the best feeling in the world, especially when you had boasted how they could depend on you, beyond a shadow of a doubt. You could be trusted. You wouldn’t let them down. But then … you did. It hurts when you disappoint someone who loves and trusts you. But do you know what it is like to disappoint the One who laid down his life for you? Now that is true pain.
Peter was someone who had firsthand
experiences with the spiritual highs and the emotional lows of following Jesus.
His life just wasn’t the same after the first miraculous catch of fish when Jesus
called him to put down his nets and become a fisher of men. Three years of living
with the Messiah had changed him from a simple fisherman to a disciple with a rock-hard
confession of faith. He had seen so much. Walking crippled, seeing blind, demons
dispossessed, vacated graves. He walked on
But Peter had some pretty low points as well: seeing the waves and sinking, being called Satan, falling asleep in the Garden, cutting off the servant’s ear. He boasted that he would never leave Jesus, then … then, he watched from a distance as Jesus was led away. Peter followed at a distance, close enough to see Jesus, but not to close to be seen with Jesus.
Peter stood outside the High Priest’s court and chose to warm himself by the fire, and three times he was recognized, three chances he had to make a bold stand for his Lord, and three times he blew it. And when the rooster crowed, scripture says, that Peter wept bitterly. A bona fide failure.
Yet three days later, the woman came with news of the amazing. The tomb is empty, Peter is elated, and Jesus appears to Peter and the others. Yet I wonder what must have been going through Peter’s mind. Imagine it this way, suppose you witness a crime, and the District Attorney who just happens to be your good friend, calls on you to testify. Your testimony can make or break the case. Yet you are afraid to do so, and even though others are counting on you, you refuse to testify due to fear. The District Attorney manages somehow to win the case and you are glad that the criminal is behind bars. Yet how will the District Attorney view you, now? Will he still call you friend, or was your act of cowardice too much.
I imagine this is how Peter must of felt. He was glad that Jesus was alive, but how would their relationship be? Perhaps you can put yourself in Peter’s place this morning. You have sinned and wandered away from God and now you wonder, can God still love me after all that I’ve done. Is there still a place and purpose for me in His kingdom?
I know that when I have hurt someone by saying or doing something stupid, the last person that I want to see or talk to is that person whom I’ve hurt. It is even more so when the person I have hurt is the holy, righteous, Judge of heaven and earth. When I’ve done something wrong, I really don’t want to talk to him in prayer, I really don’t feel comfortable in his house of worship, I really don’t feel worthy accepting his forgiveness in the Lord’s Supper. What I feel like doing instead is running away and crying. Kind of like … Peter.
All of us here have stumbled. We have bumbled. We have fallen flat on our face in our walk of faith. We have lagged behind, wandered away, and gotten lost while trying to follow our Good Shepherd.
I have heard it from too many people to count – “I need to straighten out my life, Pastor, and then I’ll come to church.” “I’m too ashamed to talk to Jesus about all of my sins.” “I’ll feel like a hypocrite if I come to church right now.”
But that is why God has given us a church. The church is not a country club for the righteous and morally perfect. The church is a hospital for people like us who are sick with the disease of sin. The church is a haven for lost souls who have been bombarded and bedeviled by the temptations of the world. The church is an athletic center where we burn off the fat of apathy and the calories of corruption.
The church is not a pretty place of fine people; it’s a place of dirty, hurting people in need of grace and assistance. And we come together to help each other grow in the faith and grow closer to God, but we need to admit that we need that help.
So no matter how gross your past may be, Jesus stands not only ready to forgive, but also to restore. Some of the best Christians I know have been at one time some of the worst sinners, but God washed them and restored them. Even if you are a bona fide failure, Jesus stands ready to restore you and use you for great things for His kingdom.
2. He picks us back up
Why was Peter back in
So Peter is in the boat, on the lake. Once again he’s fished all night. Once again his nets are empty. His thoughts are interrupted by a shout from the shore. “Catch any fish?” Peter and John look up. Probably a villager. “No!” they yell. “Try the other side!” the voice yells back. John looks at Peter. What’s the harm? So they throw the nets out again and prepare to wait.
But there is no wait. Immediately there is a miraculous catch of fish. But Peter doesn’t catch on right away. John does. The moment is déjà vu. This has happened before. The long night. The empty net. The call to cast again. Fish flapping on the floor of the boat. Wait a minute. He lifts his eyes to the man on the shore. “It’s him,” he whispers. Then louder, “It’s Jesus.” Then shouting, “It’s the Lord, Peter. It’s the Lord.”
Peter turns and looks. Jesus has come. He’s here. Peter can’t wait. He plunges into the water, swims to shore, and stumbles out wet and shivering and stands in front of the friend he betrayed. Jesus has prepared a bed of coals. Both are aware of the last time Peter had stood near a fire. Peter had failed God, but now God has come to him.
God is there. In the flesh. With a fish breakfast. Peter has fallen, but Jesus has come to pick him up. Not just Jesus the teacher, but Jesus the death-defeater, Jesus the King, Jesus the victor over the grave. Jesus the God of heaven and earth is there on the shore with him, two old friends, the Master coming to reinstate his pupil.
For one of the few times in his life,
Peter is silent. What could he say? The moment is too holy for words. God is offering
breakfast to the friend who betrayed him. And Peter is once again finding grace
in
What do you say at a moment like this? What can you say? The exact same thing has happened to you. You have failed God. You haven’t been a faithful husband, a supportive wife, or an obedient child. You have hidden from God’s call, disobeyed his rules, and denied his existence. You have hit high points in your spiritual life where you are feeling good, and then you fall flat on your face because of pride, and a momentary lapse of who is really in charge.
Still … still … God forgives you. Still he listens to your prayers. Still he comes to you in Word and Sacraments. Still he uses you. He loves you. He calls to you. Cares for you. Comforts you. Holds you. Waits for you.
He wants you to run to him. Call to him. Talk to him. Listen to him. Pour out your heart to him.
He knows that you aren’t as close to him as you should be. You don’t have a hot, burning love for the Lord, his house, his Word, and his people, like there used to be. Maybe even your church attendance has become a thing of drudgery and toil. But Jesus doesn’t want it to remain that way, and that is why he comes to you. He comes looking for you.
He comes, not to condemn, not to judge, not to scold. He comes to you to reconcile, to relieve your doubts, to calm your fears, to ease your tension, and put you back to work for him. He comes as your faithful Friend. He comes to turn you from a zero into a hero. He wants to change you from a bona fide failure into a Bible toting, gospel preaching, Scripture quoting, soul winning, reinstated disciple of Christ.
That sounds good to you, so you come. Now it’s just you and God. You and God both know what you have done. And neither of you is proud of it. What do you do? You might consider doing what Peter did. Stand in God’s presence. Stand still and wait. Sometimes that’s all a soul can do. Too repentant to speak, but too hopeful to leave – we just stand. Stand amazed. Jesus has come back for you. He invites you to try again. This time, with him. Amen.