The Third Sunday of
Easter, April 22, 2007, Year C, RCL
Feed my sheep
The Rev. Robert B. Wood, St. Aidan’s Episcopal Church, Alpharetta,
Georgia
I’m in the middle of golf lessons. As my instructor tries to reinvent
my swing, I find it difficult to remember everything I’ve been told.
Grip. Stance. Tempo of the back swing. Head still. Rump out. Writs and
shoulders follow hips. Follow-through. When it all becomes routine, I
won’t have to “think” as much and I can just swing. But right now,
I’ve got a lot going on in my head.
Being a Christian, learning to live the faith. can feel the same. When
we try to remember all the things that Jesus asked us to do: love your
neighbor; don’t make my father’s house a marketplace; give to Caesar
what is Caesar’s, to God what is God’s; baptize the nations; forgive
sins in my name; keep alert for you do not know the day or the hour;
and today’s lesson: feed my sheep.
How do we keep all these in our heads and hearts? Is there one that is
most important? Will we ever get to the point when all these things
are just “habits of the heart” and we can just swing away in our walk
with God.
Let’s concentrate for the moment on today’s directive from Jesus: feed
my sheep. This directive was given to Simon Peter and not just one
time, but three times in succession. Some say these three ‘yesses’
from Peter after the Resurrection (for that is when Jesus says it—the
third time he appeared to them) are meant to undo his three denials
before the crucifixion.
Others will say that repeating something three times simply emphasizes
the point—and as this is one of the last things Jesus says to Peter,
there is that much more importance with it as well.
Though this exchange comes as Peter, Jesus, and the disciples are
literally eating fish on the shore, something tells me Jesus meant
more than keeping stomachs full. He may not have been talking about
food at all, but instead he means: “Feed Love to my sheep. Feed them
hope, nourish them with the good news, feed them the holy Spirit, so
that they may grow in faith. Though they are my sheep, (I am the good
shepherd), they depend on you as I go unto my Father. You are their
caretakers, their stewards. Feed my sheep.” One could spend a
life-time trying to do just that.
Simon Peter got the message…and the other disciples did too as they
shared the faith and fed sheep from generation to generation. And the
church grew because people found good food, and found the Good
Shepherd.
Every disciple in every generation, whether priest or lay person,
becomes a sheep-feeder. Sometimes it’s clear how all that feeding
takes place—like with communion, or anthem, or sermon, or Bible
Study—and at other times, it’s less clear. Sometimes you just have to
invite the sheep to the table—so to speak—and hope they find the right
food, but you can’t make them eat.
That reminds me of a story I heard about a now-famous sheep-feeder
named Fred Craddock. Back in the 1996, Craddock was named one of the
top 12 preachers in the English-speaking world. One of his students,
Barbara Brown Taylor, was also on that list—and she was the first
priest I worked for right out of seminary.
Though I don’t know Craddock personally, I do feel connected to
him—and pray to grow in his sheep-feeding ways. I also know that
before he was famous, Craddock was once a fresh-out-of-seminary
minister with the Disciples of Christ, back in the 1950s. His
denomination hired him to go into areas where churches were failing
and sheep might be hungry, and hold special services to restore their
spiritual health.
On one of these occasions, Craddock was sent into the boot heel of
Missouri, to a little crossroads called Dexter—and a small church
named Walker Chapel. There, he traveled around, handing out flyers,
inviting folks to services at the church. He was ringing the dinner
bell!! At one farm house, he drove up and was a bit concerned about
the sign out front, 'Beware of Dog'. But he got out and approached the
screen door.
A man in a sleeveless t-shirt stood in the doorway, and looked at
Craddock. 'Hello sir, I've come to tell you of special services at the
Walker church…' The man cursed at him and told him to go away and then
turned and walked back into the house. So Craddock laid his flyer down
and turned to get back in his car.
Just before he did though, he heard a quiet voice, 'Can I come to your
meeting?' He turned and on the porch was a young girl with a bad leg
that didn't help her walk any, but her eyes were bright and she was
curious. 'I've been wondering what goes on in church.' Why sure you
can come, he said. And so she did. Her name was Susan Summerhour.
Fred Craddock says that day began a series of “feedings” that he had
with that young girl across that spring. He led her to pray for faith
in Jesus Christ, and then he began to instruct her, give her lessons,
on what it means to be a Christian. She came to church and had many
plates of good food, but Craddock also gave her time on the front
porch of that farmhouse. That was in the late 1950's.
In the early 1990's, Craddock was meeting and greeting incoming
students at the seminary where he used to teach, Candler School of
Theology, where Justice and Keith and John Sabine have been students.
During introductions, Craddock asked one young man, about 30,
'Where're you from? Oh, it's a rural crossroads you never heard of.
“Try me….”Well, it's down in the boot heel of Missouri, out from a
little place called Dexter. I passed through there once…little church
called Walker Chapel. Wow, that's not far from where I lived the last
ten years! Say, in your time there, did you ever run across a lady
named Susan Summerhour? And the young man's eyes filled with tears.
All he could say was, 'She's why I'm here!'
It was a God moment. He was there in seminary because of Susan
Summerhour, and the way Jesus Christ had worked in her life. And Susan
had been there because of Fred Craddock, and the way Jesus Christ had
worked through him—and all the good food her gave her. And Fred was
there because of faithful Christian people who had led him to Christ,
called him to ordained ministry, and given for the common good to
support his fledgling ministry and the ministry of all sheep-feeders.
No doubt, we are here today because of fine folks who have fed you
love, faith, and good news, or maybe because of people you didn't
know…the people who built your church before you were a twinkle in
your mother’s eye…the people who taught your Sunday school teachers in
Sunday school.
Nevertheless, we are here because of them and the way Jesus Christ
worked in their lives. They may have been the ones who contributed to
build a church of people working out God’s plan, sometimes for
buildings, sometimes for classes, sometimes in faithful perseverance.
All because Jesus asked Peter and all disciples, to feed Christ’s
sheep. Those people didn't know and neither can we, how far God will
carry our gifts and contributions—how many sheep will be fed by our
labors.
I wonder when the moment will come for you…five, ten years…when you
are doing introductions, playing the name game, asking, “Where are you
from?” Some one says Alpharetta, and your ears perk up. You mention
being Episcopalian and ask if they have heard of a church called St.
Aidan’s. And a smile comes across their face. “St. Aidan’s! That’s the
place that fed me the love of God. I was fed the knowledge of the
forgiveness of sins and salvation there. I was fed God’s grace…and the
Holy Spirit. St. Aidan’s! It’s because of that church that I am who I
am today.”
My brothers and sisters, we feed sheep. We have, we do, and we will.
We feed them Sundays in worship and with fellowship and in Christian
Education. Our youth come here on Sunday nights…or on Wednesday
nights…like the choir does, or those who come to Bible Study. We feed
people on Tuesdays with Bible Study, or people are fed with prayer
vigils like we had yesterday.
With efforts like Lift High the Cross, we feed sheep. We build the
church and tend the flock with these particular words of Jesus in
mind: Feed My Sheep. We follow this lesson because we know that God
will use our gifts and contributions now—for present, urgent needs,
and we know He will use them for years to come.
“Do you love me?” asks the Lord to Peter and to us.
“Yes, Lord, we love you.”
“Feed my sheep.”
Thanks to Zip Long for some of the ideas in this sermon.
© The Rev. Robert B. Wood. All Rights
reserved.
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