Volume 46, No. 18
John 21:1-19
Sermon prepared by Rev. David Swinney, Winnipeg, Man
Proposed Order of Service
Prelude
Call to Worship & Prayer: Psalm 95:1–7a (NIV)
Opening Hymn of Praise: #421
Scripture Reading: Galatians 5:13–25
Hymn of Confession: #497
Prayer
Offering
Hymn: #485
Prayer for Illumination
Scripture Reading: John 21:1–19
Sermon: "Grace that is Greater"
Hymn of Response: #462
Benediction:
May God himself, the God of peace, sanctify you through and through.
May your whole spirit, soul and body be kept blameless at the coming
of our Lord Jesus Christ. The one who calls you is faithful and
he will do it...The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you.
Amen. (1 Thess. 5:23-28 NIV)
Doxology: #453
Sermon
Congregation of Jesus Christ,
When William Shakespeare wanted to communicate the ultimate pain
experienced by Julius Caesar in his death, he set the stage by having
a band of conspirators confront the emperor on the steps of the
capitol. After a brief exchange of words, they plunge their daggers
into Caesar and kill him. But just before he dies, Caesar looks
into the eyes of his beloved friend, Brutus, and utters the words,
"Et tu, Brute? — Even you, Brutus? Then die, Caesar."
It’s a climactic moment, and in that moment Shakespeare would
have us come to understand that the betrayal of a trusted friend
can hurt far more than the wound of a conspirator’s knife.
More recently, Michael Card also captured something of this in
his song "Why?"
He wrote, "Only a friend can betray a friend..." and
that’s true. Only someone close; only someone who’s
truly trusted can really betray, and that’s why betrayal hurts
us at a level deeper than any other pain that we might feel.
I’m sure that anyone here who has ever experienced it would
agree. And certainly, we also see this demonstrated in the story
of Jesus’ last days. To begin with, when the mob came to take
him away to be crucified, it was led by one of his trusted companions.
Judas, one of the twelve, who had been with him almost from the
beginning.
Then, when it was evident that Jesus would be taken captive, the
other eleven also deserted him and fled. And later, when Peter,
one of Jesus closest friends, found himself sitting with a group
of people who had gathered together to await word of Jesus’
fate, Luke tells us: "A servant girl saw him seated there in
the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, ‘This man
was with him.’ But he denied it. ‘Woman, I don't know
him,’ he said. A little later someone else saw him and said,
‘You also are one of them.’ ‘Man, I am not!’
Peter replied. About an hour later another asserted, ‘Certainly
this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.’ Peter replied,
‘Man, I don't know what you're talking about!’ Just
as he was speaking, the rooster crowed." (Luke 22:54–60)
And this gives us another interesting glimpse at the pain of betrayal,
because if there’s anything worse than being betrayed by a
close friend, it is actually being the betrayer and having to come
face to face with the pain that we have caused another person. In
a way, the betrayer is ultimately betrayed by his own actions.
Whatever may have motivated him, when he realizes just what he’s
done, it turns back on him and he feels some of the very same pain
that he’s inflicted. We know that Judas, when he realized
what he had done went out and hanged himself, because he couldn’t
deal with the guilt. But Peter also learned the same lesson that
night, because Luke goes on to say that after his third denial,
in that very moment, The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter.
Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before
the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." And
he went outside and wept bitterly. (Luke 22:61–62)
And it’s no wonder that he reacted so strongly, because
of all of the disciples, Peter had been the most outspoken about
his devotion to the Lord. There had been a moment, just a few hours
before, when Jesus told them, "This very night you will all
fall away on account of me, for it is written: 'I will strike the
shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' But after
I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee."
But Peter didn’t like the sound of that. It implied that
maybe the disciples were a little lacking in the courage department.
And while Peter couldn’t speak for the rest of them, he was
sure that personally, that was not the case. He was ready to take
a stand with Jesus, even to go down in a blaze of glory, if that’s
what it took to be faithful.
So Peter was evidently more than a little offended by Jesus’
remark, and he felt compelled to speak up in his own defense. He
replied, "Even if all fall away on account of you, I never
will." Jesus answered, ‘I tell you the truth, this very
night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.’"
Now watch what happens next, because it sets the stage for us
to understand the little interchange between Jesus and Peter in
the text that we’ve already read. You see even though Jesus
has forcefully declared that Peter will deny him, Peter refuses
to believe. Whatever the others might do, Peter would not deny Jesus.
He would never fall away. He went so far as to say, "Even if
I have to die with you, I will never disown you." (Mat 26:31–35)
But the truth is, Peter denied Jesus four times that night. Later,
as we’ve seen, he would deny knowing Jesus under pressure
from others in the dim firelight of a Jerusalem court. But right
here, under pressure from his pride, he denies Jesus’ own
word, implying that in spite of what the Christ, the Son of the
Living God might say, he knew better.
And I imagine that Jesus, knowing exactly what the night would
bring forth must have felt the first pangs of betrayal right then
and there. But it would only get worse. Later that evening, he would
go out to Gethsemane to pray, hoping and expecting that his disciples
would at least support him in that. But each time he went off by
himself and came back, he found that the disciples had fallen asleep.
And then came the moment when the mob approached and Judas stepped
forward to identify Jesus to the soldiers with a kiss.
It was sometime, right about then that Peter decided to make good
on his promise. Having a sword strapped to his thigh, he drew it
out and took a swing at Malchus, the servant of the high priest,
cutting off his ear. He probably thought that he was being true
to his word here. He probably thought he was taking a stand with
Jesus just like he had promised to do. But then Jesus rebuked him.
"Put your sword back in its place," [He] said to him,
"for all who draw the sword will die by the sword." (Matthew
26:52)
And as Jesus healed the man that Peter had wounded, it finally
dawned on that proud fisherman that to stand with Jesus that night
wouldn’t mean fighting for him; it would mean dying with him;
and Peter’s courage failed and he ran away like all the rest.
So in a very real sense, it was Peter’s pride which
led directly to Peter’s downfall. Because, after he ran away,
Peter came back, but not all the way back. He turns up a little
later following from a distance. But evidently, it wasn’t
enough of a distance, because it seems Peter can hardly turn around
without someone accusing him of having been a disciple of Jesus.
And clearly there was no percentage in that, so each time that he’s
confronted, Peter simply denies. By the third time, not only denying,
but cursing and swearing that he’s never even heard of this
man Jesus; he doesn’t know him at all.
But Jesus himself is somewhere nearby as Peter utters that third
and final denial and it’s at that very instant as the rooster
crows to welcome the dawn, Luke tells us, "The Lord turned
and looked straight at Peter."
It was one of those moments when the mind takes a snapshot and
files it away for future reference and recrimination. And I’m
sure that Peter fully expected to be living that moment for the
rest of his life. But not because there was anger in that look or
wrath or even a sense of "I told you so." There was an
overwhelming weariness and physical pain stamped on the face of
Jesus in that moment, but, worse still, there was the pain of betrayal;
the hurt of being denied by a close friend who only wants to save
his own skin.
And in that look, Peter must have felt a world of guilt descend
on his shoulders. He had betrayed the Lord, just as surely as Judas.
He had let Jesus down. He had turned his back on his closest friend
at the very moment when that friend most needed his support. And
so again Peter runs away and he breaks down, weeping bitterly, feeling
in his own heart the very pain that he had caused to Jesus. He probably
felt that he could never be forgiven. He probably felt that no one
could ever be forgiven for a sin as great as his.
And what sin could be greater than to deny the Lord?
But really, isn’t all sin essentially a denial of Jesus?
Whatever we may do in terms of actual deeds, isn’t the root
of all sin a rejection and a denial of God’s grace in Christ
Jesus?
It’s true. And I believe that if we could somehow see the
face of Jesus just as Peter saw it, in the very moment that we choose
to turn our backs on him, to deny his grace, and to go our own way,
then we’d feel exactly as Peter did. If we could really grasp
the hurt and the pain that our sins caused to Jesus, then it would
have a profound impact on the choices that we make every day. Try
to think of it the next time that you’re tempted. Try to imagine
Jesus looking right at you, just the way he looked at Peter, with
all the physical, spiritual, and emotional agony of the cross mirrored
there in his eyes.
Because Jesus died for those sins that we so easily commit. That
little illicit pleasure that we just can’t do without, cost
the Son of God his life. That little lie, that little juicy tidbit
of gossip, that secret anger that we nurture way down deep where
no one can see; that lustful look, that covetous heart; whatever
it may be, it cost Jesus his life. And when we flirt with temptation,
we’re really denying that very simple, basic fact. We’re
denying Jesus all over again, and if we could somehow get our heads
around that fact, right at the point of temptation, then maybe we’d
have a different attitude about sin in our daily lives. But thank
God, that’s not the end of the story, because while we may
feel guilt when, like Peter, we stop to contemplate what we have
done, God’s grace is greater than all our sin.
And that’s my reason for telling you this story. That’s
the point that I want you to take with you when you go home today.
We’re not sinners in the hands of an angry God anymore. Jesus
died for our sins and rose again for our justification, so now,
we’re saints in the hands of a gracious God. And if you fast
forward the story of Peter over to John, chapter 21, that’s
exactly what you’ll see.
Peter and the boys are gone fishin’ for the day, but Jesus
seeks them out, walking along the shore of the lake just like he
had done a few years before. And I’m not going to retell the
whole story; we read it together earlier. But there comes a point
when Peter once again finds himself face to face with Jesus, there
in the sunshine by the Sea of Galilee.
And Peter has already acknowledged the resurrection. He believes
that Jesus has conquered death and brought salvation; but there’s
still this thing between them. That look, and the understanding
— the guilt that came with it. It may even be the case that
Peter is back in the boat because he feels like he can’t be
of much use to Jesus after this thing that he has done. But once
again, Jesus looks him right in the eye and this time he asks him
a simple question. "Simon son of John, do you truly love me
more than these?"
Now much has been made of the two different words translated "love"
that are used in this dialogue, and even the expression "more
than these," sometimes gets brought into question. But I believe
that taken in context of what we’ve already considered this
morning, the exchange is really fairly simple. Peter had boldly
proclaimed, "Lord, even if everyone else deserts you, I never
will," but then he had not only deserted Jesus, he had also
denied him three times. And in this exchange, Jesus takes him back
to that previous declaration. In essence, he’s really saying,
"Peter, do you still think that you love me more than the rest
of the disciples? Do you really love me the way that I love you?
Enough to give your life for me?"
And the old Peter, the proud impetuous Peter is gone. He was cut
down with that look on the day of the crucifixion. So he answers
simply, "Lord, you know that I love you. You know that I think
of you as a brother and a friend" And Jesus did know that.
Of course, that’s not the only thing Jesus knew about Peter;
he knew Peter’s weaknesses. He knew Peter’s failures.
He knew Peter’s sin. But he died for all of it, so none of
that matters in this moment. Just this, "Peter, do you really
love me?" And again, the big fisherman answers, "Lord,
you know, you know that I do."
And then a third time, one time for each and every time that Peter
had denied him, "Simon, son of John, do you love me?"
And the Bible tells us that Peter was hurt at this point because
Jesus asked him the third time, "Do you love me? Do you really
care for me as a brother and a friend?" No doubt Peter was
hurt. He’s just been reminded of a less than shining moment
in his relationship with the Lord, and he responds out of the weight
of guilt that still lies on his back. He responds out of his pain,"Lord,
you know all things; you know that I love you."
But this exchange isn’t about guilt, not at all. It’s
about grace. It’s about grace that’s great enough to
encompass all of our sins and take them out of the way. It’s
about grace that’s great enough to take broken, feeble sinners
and make them into beloved children. It’s about grace that’s
great enough to take a prideful fisherman and humble him to the
point of true greatness in service to Christ. It’s about grace
that is greater than all our sin.
Because each time that Peter responded, "Lord, you know that
I love you," Jesus came right back with a command. "Feed
my lambs...take care of my sheep...feed my sheep." And what
he’s really saying there is, "Peter, we both know what
you’ve done, and we both know how you feel about it. But that’s
in the past now. It’s done, it’s forgotten. I died for
all that. Now put it behind you, take hold of my grace and get busy
with the work that I’ve called you to do." And Peter
did.
You see it in the sermon he preached a short time later on the
day of Pentecost. You see it in the letters that he wrote to the
church of his day, rejoicing that he was counted worthy not only
to serve but even to suffer for his Lord. You see it in the life
that he lived and you see it in the death that he died. God’s
grace was greater than all his sin. And it’s greater than
all of our sin too.
It doesn’t matter what we’ve done, or what we’ve
failed to do. It doesn’t even matter if at the moment of crisis
we caved in completely. Peter did, but by the grace of God he was
not only restored to the family, he was given a place of leadership
where he could serve Christ effectively for many years after.
Have we betrayed Jesus? Have we lived in a way that denies his
presence and power in our lives? It doesn’t matter a bit.
Whatever we’ve done, Jesus died for that too. It’s gone.
It’s forgotten. It’s paid for completely, and we’re
called in Christ Jesus to leave it behind, to take hold of his grace
and to follow him.
So the real question is not, "How have you offended?"
The real question for each of us today is the same one Jesus asked
Peter all those centuries ago beside the Sea of Galilee. "Do
you truly love me?"
And like Peter, we can’t answer that question in light of
the sins that we’ve committed. We have to answer that question
in the bright, shining light of God’s amazing grace. Because
in his grace we can truly love him. In his grace we can truly serve
him. And in his grace he calls each one of us, just as he called
Peter, "Follow me." Because God’s grace is greater
than all our sin.
Amen.>
