When you look at a teenaged
boy wearing droopy pants, what do you see? When you see a child acting out in
WalMart, what do you see? When someone you know posts something political on
FaceBook that you think is absolutely awful, what do you see?
If you’re like me,
often you see someone you don’t think very highly of. You see a suburban teen
who needs to stop pretending he’s a gangsta, or a spoiled child whose parents
need to give her a time out, or someone who believes something absolutely
ridiculous and is too oblivious to even know how off-base their post is.
You may be right.
All your judgments may be spot on…or not. We’re all pretty adept at seeing what
we want to see, at judging what we see, and then turning away. We’ve decided
they’re failures in some way…
Today we hear two
powerful stories of people whom we might judge very accurately as failures when
it comes to following Jesus. At first glance, what we see isn’t pretty.
The first one is the
obvious one: Saul of Tarsus, a Pharisee, who was aggressive in pursuing and
punishing those who followed Christ. He was present at the stoning of St
Stephen, the first martyr. He thought Jesus and those who followed him were
heretics. He was very clear that he opposed Jesus, and would do whatever was
necessary to destroy a heretical sect.
We hear that story
and we think “how awful! How could he do that? He’s clearly an enemy of all
Christianity…” and we keep on thinking that until we hear the rest of the
story. He is knocked off his horse and hears the voice of Jesus saying “why do
you persecute me?” He is blinded, shocked, desperately confused, and he sits in
silence in a room in Damascus, trying to figure out what it all means. Then a stranger comes in and says, “I’m not
really sure why I’m here, but it seems God has a plan for you. I’m supposed to
bring God’s healing to you, in the name of Jesus whom you persecuted. May the
Spirit fill you and heal you – you are one of us now.” I suspect no one was
more surprised than Ananias that this awful person, this persecutor of
Christ-followers, would be converted into a Christ-follower himself, and would
even be a proclaimer of Christ. Ananias probably looked at Saul, soon to be
renamed Paul, and only saw someone evil. But somehow there was more to him,
something that God saw even if Ananias did not.
Okay – conversion of
Paul. We get that story, and it’s a dramatic story of the early church, and how
even the most unlikely people could serve God.
So what’s the other
story?
It’s a little more
subtle, and a little stranger. It’s the gospel. Let’s put aside the first half,
where Jesus miraculously shows up on the beach where the disciples are trying
to catch some fish. Instead, let’s focus on the dialogue between Jesus and
Peter. Peter is the rock upon whom Jesus built the church…the top guy, in
charge of everything…but then when the soldiers come and take Jesus away to his
death, where’s Peter? Hiding, denying Jesus, not once but three times. And it
isn’t like he’s being tortured and denies Jesus…it’s just some strangers
hanging out in the courtyard who say, “aren’t you one of his followers?” A
servant girl asks him. And how does he respond? “I do not know the man.” A
coward, just as Jesus predicted at the Last Supper. Some rock, eh?
You’d think that
this cowardly blowhard is not deserving of any respect. Any reasonable person
would make that judgment.
But something
different happens. Jesus reveals himself to the disciples on that beach as they
share some fish and bread, and then he turns to Peter and asks him a question.
“Do you love me?”
I wonder what goes
through Peter’s head when Jesus asks the question. “Is this his weird way of
reminding me of how I failed him? What is he getting at?”
But Peter answers
him in a straightforward way. “You know I love you.”
Now I wonder if
Jesus is thinking: “Yeah, you loved me a lot when that servant girl was asked
if you were one of my followers.” But no. Jesus isn’t going there. He simply
says “Tend my lambs.”
So now we are back
to Peter being given an assignment, just as he was given an assignment when Jesus
said “Peter. You’re the rock upon whom I build my church.” Redemption after
failing in the most dramatic way…it’s a sweet thing.
But Jesus isn’t done
yet. He has another question for Peter. “Do you love me?” And Peter thinks,
“well, maybe he’s asking again because he really didn’t hear me the first
time.” And so he says “Yes, I love you.” And Jesus says, “Tend my sheep.” Peter
nods…he gets the message. He’s supposed to be a leader by taking care of
everyone. That’s the way it is…but Jesus says one more time – one more time! –
“Do you love me?”
Peter may be
thinking that Jesus has utterly lost his mind, or worse, that Jesus doesn’t
trust him at all anymore. Why else would he ask three times? And he says “Oh,
for goodness sake, you know that I love you.”
And Jesus says,
“Feed my sheep….follow me.”
Three times, Jesus
asks him. Might it have something to do with the fact that Peter failed three
times, denying Jesus in his time of crisis? Might it be a way to make
completely sure that Peter is now ready for the task at hand?
Or is it something
different? Is it three times of forgiveness? Is it a reminder to Peter that
Jesus really does trust him to lead, even after what had happened? Is it a way
of telling Peter and telling us that despite our flaws and failings, the Lord
sees something in us that others might not? The Lord recognizes the
possibilities within us and encourages us to fulfill those possibilities.
That has a bearing
on how we look at ourselves, of course, because we are remarkably good at
criticizing ourselves, seeing our limitations. But it also has a bearing on how
we look at others.
I’ve been thinking of a YouTube video I saw a few days ago.
It was the story of a young man with Asperger’s Syndrome, a high-functioning
form of autism. As is often the case with children with this syndrome, it
didn’t take much stimulation to cause the youngster to melt down. I suspect
when that happened, he looked an awful lot like kids I’ve seen melting down in
the supermarket, kids who’ve caused me to think “why doesn’t that parent take
the kid outside?,” not realizing that this is autism, not bad behavior.
After a lot of
exploration, the youngster’s parents decided they would get him a service dog,
much like the service dogs that guide blind folks. Such dogs are trained to
calm children who cannot cope with excess stimulation. The child got the dog.
But the school system balked…they couldn’t see how the dog would work out with
other children, particularly other children with pet allergies. Finally, they
let the dog come to school with the youngster, and he thrived. His
relationships with classmates improved too, since he now had a four-legged
ambassador to help him make friends. But there were still challenges with the
school system, until the legislature passed a special bill specifically to
allow children like Nathan (that name which means “gift from God”) to bring
dogs like Sylvia into the classroom. Someone saw what Nathan was capable of, if
the system was willing to reconsider him not in terms of his limitations, but
in terms of his possibilities.
If Jesus had seen in
Saul only a persecutor rather than a potential champion, the Gentiles, like us,
would never have been converted. Bu he saw possibilities in
Saul-turned-into-Paul, and we know what happened.
If Jesus had only
seen Peter as the one who failed to support him, the one who denied him, the
one who hid, there would not have been a church. The disciples would have gone
back to their fishing boats – the boats they were in when Jesus came back for a
visit in today’s Gospel – and would have shared their stories, but they might
not have spread the word of Jesus. But Jesus saw that Peter was not a
failure…he had failed at one point, but Peter had learned from his failures and
there were still possibilities. Peter could be the rock upon which the church
was built. Jesus did not see the
limitations. Jesus saw the possibilities.
Nathan, the young
man with Asperger’s, was not merely a kid with a disability. He had
possibilities…all it took was a dog and some advocates who helped make it
happen.
So maybe the lesson
to us is that it is quite easy for us to see what’s wrong with others. They
dress the wrong way, they act the wrong way, they believe the wrong way. They
rub us the wrong way. But what if we saw beyond the limitations and recognized
the possibilities? Might we see an artist rather than an annoying teen with
tattoos? Might we see a beautiful child with lots of energy instead of a
screaming brat? Might we see a person who cares deeply about contemporary
issues rather than somebody who is uninformed because they think differently
than we do?
Might we see the
possibilities that Christ sees in others who are different, regardless of
dress, social status, political affiliation, sexual orientation, education,
musical tastes, abilities and disabilities?
Wouldn’t we want
others to see us the same way too?
Amen.
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