Skip to main content

Sunday, May 5 - Recognition

This sermon was preached on Sunday, May 5, 2019 for the last Sunday at Episcopal Church of Our Savior, Oakland, CA. The readings for this sermon were: Acts 9:1-6, (7-20)Revelation 5:11-14John 21:1-19, and Psalm 30.

The first part of our Gospel passage today comes at a moment when the disciples are learning to recognize Jesus’s presence among them in new ways. Jesus no longer walks and talks with them as a teacher and friend. If you remember in the Gospel last week, Jesus appears in the midst of the disciples where they were gathered in fear. In this week’s Gospel, Jesus arrives in the moment of scarcity and stress for the disciples and leads them into plenty and joy. Let’s look again at the ways the different disciples recognize Jesus:

- One disciple recognizes Jesus in the surprising abundance filling their nets.

- Peter recognizes Jesus when his friend testifies, “It is the Lord!”

- The others know him as Jesus in the shared meal he hosts in the shore.

These are all ways we can recognize God at work in our lives today as well! In the blessings of life, in the witness of others, and in sharing a sacred meal together at Jesus’s table.

Today we pray: O God, whose blessed Son made himself known to his disciples in the breaking of bread: Open the eyes of our faith, that we may behold him in all his redeeming work.

So the first part of our Gospel story is about us learning to relate to the resurrected Jesus in new ways in a post-Easter world. But Jesus doesn’t let us stop there. In Jesus’s conversation with Peter, Jesus moves us from our focus on relationship with him…to what relationship with him means for the world. Not just, how do we recognize Jesus, but: How do others recognize us as Christians? What does love for Jesus look like when it is lived out?

Do you love me? Jesus asks Peter. Feed my lambs.

Over this past year, I have watched you feed one another in so many ways. You feed each other in the celebration of important moments and for the spontaneous joy of fellowship. I have eaten more delicious buns here than I care to count! You also feed each other with stories of your faith, with kindness, and prayer. You tend to each other through hard times and big changes, huge loss and great accomplishment. In a world of scarcity and empty nets, I have found abundance here, springing from unsurpassed generosity and extraordinary love. This is a church filled with good shepherds.

Do you love me? Jesus asks us. Tend MY sheep. Jesus’ sheep.

Jesus has sheep beyond these walls. The Good Shepherd says, “I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.”

Jesus’s lambs come to this parish hall after school. Jesus’s sheep arrive to food pantries and community centers all over Oakland. Jesus’s sheep sleeps on the stoop right outside this door. Today, Jesus’s sheep need housing and shelter, community and fellowship. Jesus calls us to meet those needs, even if it means laying down our lives as we know them now. This is our ministry as Christians, as disciples, as those who love him.

Do you love me? Jesus asks the Church. Feed my sheep.

This is how we are recognized as Christian. Not so we can be known, but so that Christ can be known. This is how our lives point to the love from which all love springs. The old song goes, They will know we are Christians by our love. Not because we tend the ones we love, but because we tend to the ones Jesus loves.

As you may know, I live in an apartment building nearby my seminary that’s filled with seminarians and their families. The other day, my friend who lives in the building with us—one of the seminarian spouses—happened to fall into conversation with a woman who lives in the neighborhood and often walks her dog around our building. She shared with my friend that she’d been wondering about our building for weeks. “What do they put in the water here?” she asked him. Everyone who comes out of this building is always so kind and welcoming. What’s in the water?

It turns out this person was hungry for community, and had been on the verge of returning to church after a while away. Something about the way my seminarian neighbors have been living their lives—something about the living water we drink from in our classes, at our churches, and in our homes—sparked recognition in a stranger walking by.

All Christians, not just seminarians, we are all commissioned by Christ to together how our love for Jesus is turned into tending and feeding a hungry and hurting world.

Here is how you love me now, Jesus says to Peter. You love me by loving the ones I love.

Church of Our Savior has been called to feed and tend the people of Oakland in very special ways over the years: by providing a spiritual home to Chinese-speaking Christians, hosting afterschool programs and piano lessons, and now, through building affordable housing right where is it most needed for the people who need it most. This is what our love for Jesus commands of us. This is the kind of love make others stop and say, “What’s different in the water here?”

When we are attuned to look for abundance and invitation in our lives, we can recognize the resurrected Jesus at work. When we listen for what our love for Jesus commands of us, others can recognize the body of Christ at work in us.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Sunday, May 7, 2023 - There is a place for you here

This sermon was preached for the fifth Sunday in Easter, May 7, 2023 for St. Mark's, East Longmeadow. The texts for this sermon were: Acts 7:55-60,  John 14:1-14, and  Psalm 31:1-5, 15-16. Today's Gospel passage is a common funeral sermon because it's the words Jesus leaves with his disciples at the Last Supper before his crucifixion, words he knows will be what will carry his friends through what is to come, his death, their grief, the shock of the resurrection. Jesus wants his followers to know that they already have all they need for the journey ahead. You know the way, he reassures the disciples.  I will say, taken out of context, Jesus’ statement, “No one comes to the Father except through me” lands as uncomfortably exclusive. Certainly those words have been used to exclude: “No one…except.” Yet Jesus clearly intends for this whole passage to be reassuring, not threatening. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Don’t worry that you don’t know the way, you already...

Tuesday, December 24, 2024 - Thank you, teacher

  This sermon was preached for the Feast of the Nativity, Christmas Eve, December 24, 2024. The texts for this sermon were the Christmas Lessons and Carols.  I sent two recordings of my daughter singing herself to sleep to her godmothers a couple weeks ago. If you listen closely to the first, you can hear that she’s singing her very own two year old version of the Jewish sabbath blessing for the bread and in the second, O Gracious Light, the Episcopal hymn we’ve been singing as we light our Advent wreath each night. The godmothers were delighted. “Here’s the thing that I know for sure,” one said in response. “...There are things we can only learn about God from children. There are things we can only learn about God from a little tiny voice singing blessings to fall asleep.” The Christmas pageant we did here earlier today was another one of those times that drives home for me, that there are things we can only learn about God from children. Things that children just know about ...

Sunday, March 10 - Sin

This sermon was preached for the fourth Sunday in Lent, Sunday, March 10 at St. Mark's, East Longmeadow. The texts for this sermon were: Ephesians 2:1-10,  John 3:14-21, and  Psalm 107:1-3, 17-22. I’m going to tell you a story. It’s one you know. I’m not changing it - it’s still true to scripture. But it might have a different emphasis than you’re used to hearing. In the beginning, God created a beautiful garden and filled it with wondrous creatures, including two human beings made from the earth in God’s own image (Genesis 1:27). God spoke with the human beings often, walked with them, cared for them. They knew themselves to be God's creation, and that God saw them as very good (Genesis 1:31). The human beings were naked and they felt no shame (Genesis 2:25). But when the two human beings ate the fruit of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, and their eyes were opened, suddenly when they looked around they didn't see only goodness anymore. Even when they looked at...