Showing posts with label feed my sheep. Show all posts
Showing posts with label feed my sheep. Show all posts

Sunday, May 5, 2019

"Do We Love Jesus?" A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the Third Sunday of Easter.

"Feed My Sheep." Photo taken at the Primacy of Peter site, in Galilee, by Fran Hayes 

"Do We Love Jesus?"

John 21:1-19; Acts 9:1-20

We’re now two weeks past Easter Sunday.  But for a lot of folk, Easter already seems long ago and far away.   For some, great joy and hope have given way to the routine of daily life:  family responsibilities…health issues…work concerns.  In the midst of it all, what does the Resurrection mean?  What difference does it make?  Has it changed anything?
            In the last chapter of John, we hear how, after the Resurrection, the disciples’ lives don’t seem to have changed.  They have seen the risen Jesus.  But they’ve gone back to the same old thing they used to do.  They’ve gone fishing. 
            The disciples had given up everything to follow Jesus.  But he’d been crucified and buried.  They’re grieving… frustrated… confused. 
            True, they knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead.  But what did that mean?  What difference did it make? 
            So, they go back to something familiar—what they’d been doing before Jesus came into their lives.  They go fishing.  They fish all night.  But they don’t catch anything. 
            Yet, as the disciples return to the way things used to be, the risen Jesus seeks them out once again.  At dawn, they see a stranger on the shoreline, but they don’t recognize him. But Jesus knows them. This “stranger” calls to them with a term of endearment, “children.”
Jesus comes to them in their ordinary lives, and he blesses them.  He calls out to them, “You don’t have any fish, do you?”
            No.
            Then he tells them how to fish: “Cast your net on the right side of the boat, and you’ll find some.”
            The catch is so enormous that they can’t haul it in. There are fish of all kinds. The symbolic significance of the number—one hundred fifty-three—is lost on modern readers. But the meaning of the story is not: there are fish of all kinds. This is an abundance that is inclusive and diverse.
            This story reprises themes in several other traditional stories about the disciples: the work of the disciples as fishermen…the radical call for them to become fishers of people… and the reminder that Jesus told the disciples that “apart from me you can do nothing.”[1]
            John recognizes Jesus, and says, “It’s the Lord!”  Then Peter leaps into the water and swims toward Jesus.  Jesus knows how deeply Simon Peter needs to be forgiven for the three times he denied his relationship with Jesus on that awful night before Jesus was crucified.  Jesus says, three times: “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” 
            Peter responds with an affirmation of his love, saying, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”  Three times.  “Tend my sheep.”  “Feed my sheep.”
            Instead of praising his declarations, Jesus tells Peter that one day he will stretch out his hands    and someone will take him where he does not wish to go.   Feeding lambs and tending sheep can cost us—even cost us our lives.  It is work that will link our lives to pain and suffering.  It will lead us many places we don’t want to go.  If we love Jesus, our relationship with him will change us.
            On this third Sunday in Eastertide, the lectionary gives us two stories of transformation. The stories we heard are about two great saints of the church, Peter and Paul.  In the book of Acts, we encounter Saul, who was introduced in chapter 7, as the young man who was present when the angry mob stoned Stephen to death.  Luke tells us that Saul took care of their coats for them, that he approved of their killing Stephen, and that he was ravaging the church by entering house after house, dragging off both men and women believers, and imprisoning them.[2]
            In the story we heard today from Acts, Saul is “still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”  He has gone to the high priest and gotten letters of authorization to the synagogues of Damascus, so he can look for followers of the Way and bring them back to Jerusalem in chains.
            Now, Saul was well-educated and devout.  He was someone who had his faith and values all figured out.  His mission in life was to stamp out the movement of those who followed the risen Jesus on the Way.  Saul was very certain that he was right—and they were wrong.
            So far in Acts, Saul is described almost entirely in terms of his certainty and his violence.   It is this violence that Jesus addresses when he speaks out of the heavenly light, saying, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”
            By identifying himself as the one whom Saul is persecuting, Jesus identifies with the believers in their suffering, and he makes Saul’s violence a central issue of his conversion.
            The voice of the risen Christ intrudes and devastates Saul’s self-confident journey.  He opens his eyes, but he can’t see.  He has to be led around by the hand, and he doesn’t eat or drink for three days.   Saul, who knows so much about religion, who could quote chapter and verse of the scriptures, is rendered helpless by the blinding light on the road to Damascus.  He needs to be led by the hand, healed, and instructed by the very ones he’d planned to round up and bind and drag back to Jerusalem to face the religious authorities.
            What happens to Saul on the road to Damascus becomes a transformative moment.  When Paul encountered the risen Christ, he was blinded by the brightness of the light of Christ and transformed-- from a man committed to aggression and persecution of those who were different, those who challenged what he believed— to one who was lost and struggling.  In the process of his conversion, Paul learns that the agenda he set for himself was futile, and that God’s plan is the only plan that matters. 
            Peter’s encounter with the Risen Christ helped to transform him from someone who was afraid to admit he even knew Jesus—into an apostle who was empowered to jump out of his familiar boat into waters that were over his head     and walk bravely into the world with resurrection power and hope. 
            In this third resurrection appearance, we hear Peter getting a new chance, as he experiences Jesus’ resurrection power in a quiet way over breakfast.
           The Risen Christ appears to the disciples, makes them breakfast, and then dialogues with Peter on the nature of discipleship. Loving Jesus leads to feeding God’s sheep, providing for their physical and spiritual hungers.
            Those who encounter Christ are called to reach out to the world sharing good news for body, mind, and spirit.
In an ordinary place and meal, the disciples receive a kind of re-commissioning.  They are reminded who they are and what they were called to be and do. 
            Easter is about living out our identity and calling as if we truly believe that Jesus has overcome sin and death.  It’s about living as if we trust in his gift of abundant, eternal life.    It means following Jesus, embodying Jesus’ love. It means being with Jesus as we gather together to hear the good news… and in the places we are led to serve.
            “Do you love me?”  Jesus asks us. Then, feed my lambs.
            Jesus calls his disciples to follow him.  Yet, we know all too well that the compelling call of human need often feels like it is taking us to places we don’t want to go.  Our ability and willingness to go there will be a testimony to the clarity and passion of our Christian discipleship.  Our ability and willingness to follow Jesus is a sign of how we are being transformed.
            The first disciples huddled behind locked doors, or went back to their old familiar routines.  They struggled with fear about how Jesus calls his followers to go places where they don’t want to go.
            When I get impatient with myself for my lack of courage, or my reluctance to go some of the places Jesus might call me to go in his name, I find comfort and hope in the conviction that God isn’t finished with me yet.  God isn’t finished with any of us yet.
            We have Christ’s promise that he will not leave us alone.  He will be with us, to help and to guide us…to provide for our needs…and to comfort and care for us.   The One who commands us to embody his love and light in the world   promises us that we will be given the power we need through the Holy Spirit.
           Again and again, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”   This is no cheap grace Christ offers us.  Again and again, Jesus calls us: “Follow me.”
            Do you love me?  Jesus asks.
            Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.
            Just as Jesus met with his first disciples at dawn on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus comes to us.  Jesus keeps coming to us to teach us and to lead us to places where we’d never have thought to go.  
            The gospel reminds us that God can make a way where there is no way, bringing abundance where there is scarcity, and joy where there has been sorrow.  Jesus’ resurrection gives us the promise of life after death, and the assurance of God’s healing and restoration in this life.
Today, in this time and place, as long ago, Jesus does many signs in the presence of his disciples.   We have the witness of the gospel, which was written “so that we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God…and that through believing, we may have life in his name.”
Jesus meets us where we work, where we despair, or where we question or doubt. Whether we’re still feeling “up” from Easter or feeling let down, Jesus keeps coming to us.
            Jesus meets us in in our friends or in strangers.  He challenges us with a task to do—caring for his people.  He gives us work that truly satisfies us, and invites us to make him more and more the center of our lives.  One way or another, Jesus comes back and calls us to himself and to his new life. 
            Do you love me?  Then feed my sheep. Tend my lambs.
            As individuals and as a congregation, we often fall short of being the loving, compassionate, generous, welcoming people God created us to be.  We don’t always follow through.  Sometimes we even fall away for a while and go back to whatever felt familiar before we recognized the Risen Christ. 
            But Jesus doesn’t give up on us.  After each time we fail…or forget… or are overcome by our fears, Jesus comes to us again and invites us to try again, providing encouragement and nourishment, and calls us to put our love into action, caring for the world God loves.  If you love me, show it through your actions.   “Feed my sheep.”
Jesus comes to us today, this morning, inviting us to start again Easter-fresh, saying, “Follow me.”
            Thanks be to God!  Alleluia!


Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
May 5, 2019



[1] John 15:5
[2] Acts 7:58-8:1

Sunday, April 30, 2017

"Feed My Sheep:" A Sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church.


"Feed My Sheep"

John 21:1-19



         We’re two weeks past Easter Sunday.  But for a lot of folk, Easter already seems long ago and far away.  For some, great joy and hope have given way to the routine of daily life:  family responsibilities…health issues…work concerns.  In the midst of it all, what does the Resurrection mean?  What difference does it make?  Has it changed anything?

         In the last chapter of John, we hear how, after the Resurrection, the disciples’ lives don’t seem to have changed.

         The disciples had given up everything to follow Jesus.  But he’d been crucified and buried.  They’re grieving…frustrated…confused.  They don’t know what the Resurrection means. 

         True, they know that Jesus was raised from the dead.  But what does that mean?  What difference does it make? 

         So, they go back to something familiar—what they’d been doing before Jesus came into their lives.  They go fishing.  They fish all night.  But they don’t catch anything. 

         Yet, as the disciples return to the way things used to be, the risen Jesus seeks them out once again.  He comes to them in their ordinary lives, and he blesses them.  He appears on the beach—but the disciples don’t recognize him at first.  He calls out to them, “You don’t have any fish, do you?”

         No.

         “Cast your net on the right side of the boat, and you’ll find some.”

         The catch is so great that they can’t haul it in, because there are so many fish.  Then John recognizes Jesus, and says, “It’s the Lord!”

         Once he recognizes the Lord, Peter leaps into the water and swims toward Jesus.  Jesus knows how deeply Simon Peter needs to be forgiven for the three times he denied his relationship with Jesus on that awful night before Jesus was crucified.  Jesus says, three times: “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” 

         Peter responds with an affirmation of his love, saying, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”  Three times.  “Tend my sheep.”  “Feed my sheep.”

         Then Jesus tells Peter that one day he will stretch out his hands    and someone will take him where he does not wish to go.   Feeding lambs and tending sheep can cost us.  It’s work that will link our lives to pain and suffering.  It will lead us many places we don’t want to go.  If we love Jesus, our relationship with him will change us.

          

         In today’s gospel lesson we hear Peter getting a new chance.  It’s a couple of weeks after Easter, but it’s another daybreak like Easter morning.  Two weeks after that first Easter morning Peter experiences Jesus’ resurrection power in a quiet way over breakfast, after a hard night’s work. 

         Three years before, Peter was called away from life as he had known it—an ordinary life of a fisherman.  Now again, in an ordinary place and meal, Jesus calls him to “follow” and to be filled more and more with Jesus every day.

         Peter’s encounter with the Risen Christ helped to transform him from someone who was afraid to admit he even knew Jesus—into an apostle who was empowered to jump out of his familiar boat and walk bravely into the world with resurrection power and hope. 



         Eastertide challenges us to live out our identity and calling as if we truly believe that Jesus has overcome sin and death.  It challenges us to live as if we trust in his gift of abundant, eternal life.    It’s about following Jesus, embodying Jesus’ love… and being led to places where we are to feed Jesus’ sheep.

        

         “Do you love me?”  Jesus asks us.

         Then feed my lambs.

         Jesus calls his disciples to follow him.  Yet we know all too well that the compelling call of human need often feels like it is taking us to places we don’t want to go.  Our ability and willingness to go there will be a testimony to the clarity and passion of our Christian discipleship.  Our ability and willingness to follow Jesus is a sign of how we have changed…of how we are being transformed.

        

         The first disciples huddled behind locked doors, or went back to their old familiar routines.  They struggled with fear about how Jesus calls his followers to go places where they don’t want to go.

         When I get impatient with myself for my lack of courage, or my reluctance to go some of the places Jesus might call me to go in his name, I find comfort and hope in the conviction that God isn’t finished with me yet.  God isn’t finished with any of us yet.

         Part of the good news is that we are in a continuing, evolving relationship with our Lord and Savior, who promises that he will not leave us alone.  He will be with us, to help and to guide us…to provide for our needs…and to comfort and care for us.   The One who commands us to embody his love and light in the world promises us that we will be given the power we need through the Holy Spirit.

         Again and again, Christ reaches out in love to restore us.   Again and again, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”  

        

         Do you love me?  Jesus asks.

         Feed my lambs.  Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.



         Littlefield has a long history of working to alleviate hunger, in a variety of ways. But lately we’ve been considering how we might do more. A team has been exploring the needs in our neighborhood and how we might address them. One of the possibilities is to send food home for the weekends with the children of McDonald School who are most food insecure. We have been exploring options, talking with the leaders of the local Blessings in a Backpack program, and talking with staff and leaders of McDonald School.

        

         The needs are great. There are more than 16 million children in the United States who live in food insecure homes. Poor nutrition can result in a weaker immune system, lower IQ, shorter attention spans, and lower academic achievement.

         Children are fed during the school week by federal government programs, but hunger doesn’t take weekends off.   That’s why the Blessings in a Backpack program has been bringing together private sector funding and public partnership to “feed the future of America, one school at a time,” in 47 states and the District of Columbia.

         Several west Dearborn schools have been served in recent years by Blessings in a Backpack, and Salina Elementary has been added more recently. But we have east Dearborn schools with very high poverty rates.  The principal of McDonald School told me that around 91 percent of their students are in the poverty range, with a smaller number at great risk for hunger.



         The “old-timers” and those who know Littlefield’s history know about the congregation’s history with McDonald School. For the first 10 years or so of Littlefield’s history, the congregation didn’t have a building. For much of that time, Littlefield worshipped at what was then “the new McDonald School.” Some members of the congregation were involved in the Parent Teachers’ Organization and helped out in various ways. 

         When Littlefield used to do the holiday food box project, which was a huge operation, with many partners, we had volunteers and participation from McDonald School, as well as Fordson High School and other organizations. And, as some of you know, Littlefield Church is designated as a safe place in McDonald School’s emergency evacuation plan.  The children are taught that, if they ever need to be evacuated from school, they are to “run to the church.” 

         I hope you’ll all be praying for discernment, for us to show our love in action in a new way and carry out Christ’s command to “feed my lambs.”  This has the potential of caring for our young neighbors in need, but also of deepening our relationship with McDonald School, with those who work together in the Blessings in a Backpack program, and possibly with other organizations with whom we could partner.



         Just as Jesus met with his first disciples at dawn on the Sea of Galilee, Jesus comes to us.   The dawn is breaking on new chances… the new life Jesus promises us.   Jesus continues to come to us to teach us… and to lead us to places where we’d never have thought to go.  

         The gospel reminds us that God can make a way where there is no way, bringing abundance where there is emptiness, and joy where there is only sorrow.   Jesus’ resurrection gives us the promise of life after death, and the assurance of God’s healing and restoration in this life.



Today, in this time and place, as long ago, Jesus does many signs in the presence of his disciples.   We have the witness of the gospel, which was written “so that we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God…and that through believing, we may have life in his name.”

Jesus meets us where we work… or where we despair… or where we question. Whether we’re still feeling “up” from Easter or feeling let down, Jesus keeps coming to us…and calls us to himself and to his new life.  He challenges us with a task to do—caring for his people.



         Do you love me?  Then feed my sheep.  Tend my lambs.

         As individuals and as a congregation, we often fall short of being the loving, compassionate, generous, welcoming people God created us to be.  We don’t always follow through.  Sometimes we even fall away for a while and go back to whatever felt familiar before we recognized the Risen Christ. 

         But Jesus doesn’t give up on us.  After each time we fail…or forget… or are overcome by our fears, Jesus comes to us again and invites us to try again, providing encouragement and nourishment, and calls us to put our love into action, caring for the world God loves.   

         If you love me, show it through your actions.   “Feed my sheep.”

Jesus comes to us today, this morning, starting again, Easter-fresh, saying, “Follow me.”

        

         Thanks be to God!  Alleluia!



        



Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor

Littlefield Presbyterian Church

Dearborn, Michign

April 30, 2017

Sunday, April 10, 2016

"Resurrection Abundance." A sermon from Littlefield Presbyterian Church on the Third Sunday of Easter, on April 10, 2016.




"Resurrection Abundance"

John 21:1-19


We’re now two weeks past Easter Sunday.  But for a lot of folk, Easter already seems long ago and far away.   For some, great joy and hope have given way to the routine of daily life:  family responsibilities…health issues…work concerns.  In the midst of it all, what does the Resurrection mean?  What difference does it make?  Has it changed anything?
            In the last chapter of John,  we hear how, after the Resurrection, the disciples’ lives don’t seem to have changed.  They have seen the risen Jesus.  But they’ve gone back to the same old thing they used to do.  They’ve gone fishing. 
            The disciples had given up everything to follow Jesus.  But he’d been crucified and buried.  They’re grieving…frustrated…confused.  They don’t know what the Resurrection means. 
            True, they knew that Jesus had been raised from the dead.  But what did that mean?  What difference did it make? 
            So they go back to something familiar—what they’d been doing before Jesus came into their lives.  They go fishing.  They fish all night.  But they don’t catch anything. 
            Yet, as the disciples return to the way things used to be, the risen Jesus seeks them out once again.  He comes to them in their ordinary lives, and he blesses them.  He appears on the beach—but the disciples don’t recognize him at first.  He calls out to them,  “You don’t have any fish, do you?”
            No.
            “Cast your net on the right side of the boat, and you’ll find some.”
            The catch is so great that they can’t haul it in, because there are so many fish.  Then John recognizes Jesus, and says, “It’s the Lord!”
            Once he recognizes the Lord, Peter leaps into the water and swims toward Jesus.  Jesus knows how deeply Simon Peter needs to be forgiven for the three times he denied his relationship with Jesus on that awful night before Jesus was crucified.  Jesus says, three times:   “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” 
            Peter responds with an affirmation of his love, saying, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”  Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”  Three times.  “Tend my sheep.”  “Feed my sheep.”
            Instead of praising his declarations,  Jesus tells Peter that one day he will stretch out his hands    and someone will take him where he does not wish to go.   Feeding lambs and tending sheep can cost us—even cost us our lives.  It is work that will link our lives to pain and suffering.  It will lead us many places we don’t want to go.  If we love Jesus, our relationship with him will change us.
           
            On this third Sunday in Eastertide, the lectionary gives us two stories of conversion.   The stories we heard are about two great saints of the church, Peter and Paul.  In  the book of Acts, we encounter Saul, who was introduced in chapter 7 as the young man who was present when the angry mob stoned Stephen to death.  Luke tells us that Saul took care of their coats for them, that he approved of their killing Stephen, and that he was ravaging the church by entering house after house, dragging off both men and women believers, and imprisoning them.[1]
            In the story we heard today, Saul is “still breathing threats and murder against the disciples of the Lord.”  He has gone to the high priest and gotten letters of authorization to the synagogues of Damascus, so he can look for followers of the Way and bring them back to Jerusalem in chains.
            Now, Saul was well-educated and devout.  He was someone who had his faith and values all figured out.  His mission in life was to stamp out the movement of those who followed the risen Jesus on the Way.  Saul was very certain that he was right—and they were wrong.
            So far in Acts, Saul is described almost entirely in terms of his certainty and his violence.   It is this violence that Jesus addresses when he speaks out of the heavenly light, saying, “Saul, Saul, why do you persecute me?”
            By identifying himself as the one whom Saul is persecuting, Jesus identifies with the believers in their suffering, and he makes Saul’s violence a central issue of his conversion.
            The voice of the risen Christ intrudes and devastates Saul’s self-confident journey.  He opens his eyes, but he can’t see.  He has to be led around by the hand, and he doesn’t eat or drink for three days.   Saul, who knew so much about religion, about God…who could quote chapter and verse of the scriptures, is rendered helpless by the blinding light on the road to Damascus.  He needs to be led by the hand, healed, and instructed by the very ones he’d planned to round up and bind and drag back to Jerusalem to face the religious authorities.
            What happens to Saul on the road to Damascus becomes a transformative moment.  

            Now, relatively few of us are likely to have spiritual experiences that are as dramatic and vivid as the one Saul had on the road to Damascus.  And yet, I believe that every real Christian transformation has some things in common with what happened in Saul and Peter.   For one thing, Saul and Peter weren’t called by abstract, intellectual teachings or doctrines or laws.   Rather, they were called into a personal relationship with Jesus.  In responding, they recognize that Jesus, the Crucified, is now alive and addressing them in a very personal way. 

            I believe that’s true today.  The Christian faith isn’t a religion about Jesus.  It’s about following Jesus on the Way of Love.   It's about how God’s love is revealed to us through Jesus on the Way and as we live together as a faith community.
            When Paul encountered the risen Christ, he was blinded by the brightness of the light of Christ    and transformed-- from a man committed to aggression and persecution of those who were different, those who challenged what he believed— to one who was lost and struggling.  In the process of his conversion, Paul learns that the agenda he set for himself was futile, and that God’s plan is the only plan that matters. 

            Peter’s encounter with the Risen Christ helped to transform him from someone who was afraid to admit he even knew Jesus—into an apostle who was empowered to jump out of his familiar boat into waters that were over his head     and walk bravely into the world with resurrection power and hope. 
            In this third resurrection appearance, we hear Peter getting a new chance,  as he experiences Jesus’ resurrection power in a quiet way over breakfast.
            Three years before, Peter was called away from life as he had known it—an ordinary life of a fisherman.  Now again, in an ordinary place and meal, the disciples receive a kind of re-commissioning.  They are reminded who they are and what they were called to be and do. 

            Easter is about living out our identity and calling as if we truly believe that Jesus has overcome sin and death.  It’s about living as if we trust in his gift of abundant, eternal life.    It means following Jesus, embodying Jesus’ love. It means being with Jesus as we gather together to hear the good news… and in the places we are led to serve.
           
            “Do you love me?”  Jesus asks us.
            Then feed my lambs.
            Jesus calls his disciples to follow him.  Yet we know all too well that the compelling call of human need often feels like it is taking us to places we don’t want to go.  Our ability and willingness to go there will be a testimony to the clarity and passion of our Christian discipleship.  Our ability and willingness to follow Jesus is a sign of how we have changed…of how we are being transformed.
           
            The first disciples huddled behind locked doors, or went back to their old familiar routines.  They struggled with fear about how Jesus calls his followers to go places where they don’t want to go.
            When I get impatient with myself for my lack of courage, or my reluctance to go some of the places Jesus might call me to go in his name, I find comfort and hope in the conviction that God isn’t finished  with me yet.  God isn’t finished with any of us yet.
            Part of the good news is that we are in a continuing, evolving relationship with our Lord and Savior, who loves us with a love so amazing, so divine—that he gave his life for us. 
            We have Christ’s promise that he will not leave us alone.  He will be with us, to help and to guide us…to provide for our needs…and to comfort and care for us.   The One who commands us to embody his love and light in the world   promises us that we will be given the power we need through the Holy Spirit.
            Again and again, when it seems impossible to counteract the grim reality of sin and brokenness in our lives and in the world, Christ reaches out in love to restore us.   Again and again, Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”   This is no cheap grace Christ offers us.  Again and again, Jesus calls us:  “Follow me.”
           
            Do you love me?  Jesus asks.
            Feed my lambs.  Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.
            Just as Jesus met with his first disciples at dawn on the Sea of  Galilee, Jesus comes to us.   The dawn is breaking on new chances,  the  new life Jesus promises us.   Jesus keeps coming to us to teach us and to lead us to places where we’d never have thought to go.  
            The gospel reminds us that God can make a way where there is no way, bringing abundance where there is emptiness, and joy where there is only sorrow.   Jesus’ resurrection gives us the promise of life after death, and the assurance of God’s healing and restoration in this life.

Today, in this time and place, as long ago, Jesus does many signs in the presence of his disciples.   We have the witness of the gospel, which was written “so that we may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God…and that through believing, we may have life in his name.”
After the Easter flowers have been carried out of the sanctuary and attendance is back to normal, Jesus keeps coming back.  Jesus meets us where we work, where we despair, or where we question or doubt. Whether we’re still feeling “up” from Easter or feeling let down, Jesus keeps coming to us.
            Jesus meets us in in our friends or in strangers.  He challenges us with a task to do—caring for his people.  He gives us work that truly satisfies us, and invites us to make him more and more the center of our lives.  One way or another, Jesus comes back and calls us to himself and to his new life. 
            Do you love me?  Then feed my sheep.  Tend my lambs.
            As individuals and as a congregation, we often fall short of being the loving, compassionate, generous, welcoming people God created us to be.  We don’t always follow through.  Sometimes we even fall away for a while and go back to whatever felt familiar before we recognized the Risen Christ. 
            But Jesus doesn’t give up on us.  After each time we fail…or forget… or are overcome by our fears, Jesus comes to us again and invites us to try again, providing encouragement and nourishment, and calls us to put our love into action, caring for the world God loves.  If you love me, show it through your actions.   “Feed my sheep.”
Jesus comes to us today, this morning, starting again Easter-fresh with each of us, saying, “Follow me.”
            Thanks be to God!  Alleluia!

           
Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
April 10, 2016



[1] Acts 7:58 – 8:1

Monday, June 8, 2015

"Remembering, Rejoicing, Re-committing": a sermon on John 21:1-17, for a celebration of 85 years of mission and ministry at Littlefield Presbyterian Church

"Remembering, Rejoicing, and Re-Committing"

John 21:1-17




“I’m going fishing,” says Simon Peter.  And others apparently say, “I’ll go with you.”    So, it’s back to life as usual. 
            Do you find yourself wondering--  why would the disciples go fishing just days after Jesus’ resurrection?            
            After the resurrection, the disciples had locked themselves into a room, because they were afraid.  But Jesus had come to them and said,  “Peace be with you.”  He showed them his wounds, and they recognized him, and they rejoiced!   Again, Jesus said, “Peace be with you.  As the Father has sent me, so I send you.”  And then he breathed on them, saying, “Receive the Holy Spirit.”   The followers have been blessed and sent by the risen Christ. 
             So…    What’s going on here?  Shouldn’t the disciples be out preaching?  Shouldn’t they be fishing for people? 
            And why is the story here at the end of John’s gospel anyway?  The words at the end of chapter twenty sounded like they were the end:
            “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples which are not written in this book.  But these are written so that you may come to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in Jesus’ name.”[1] 
            Doesn’t that sound like the end?—like things were pretty well wrapped up?
            But it isn’t the end.   This is just one more reminder that the Bible isn’t tidy.  The work of the Spirit isn’t tidy. 
“After these things, Jesus showed himself again.” 
            The disciples had fished all night, but they didn’t catch anything.  At dawn, Jesus appears on the shore—but they don’t recognize him.  “Children, you have no fish--  have you?” 
            “No,” they shout back over the water. 
            “Cast your nets to the right side of the boat, and you will find some.”
            They throw out the net and soon it’s filled with fish.  Do you have a sense of déjà vu?  Haven’t we been here before? 
            In Luke’s gospel,  in chapter 5, the fishermen had fished all night and hadn’t caught anything.  Jesus says to Simon, “Put out into the deep water and let down your nets for a catch.”  They caught so many fish that their nets were beginning to break, and they were amazed at the catch.  At that point, Jesus told them, “Don’t be afraid.  From now on you’ll be catching people.”  And the disciples left everything and followed Jesus.”
            So again I’m wondering:  Why are the disciples back fishing for FISH?

In John’s gospel, we have this fishing story with an amazing catch at the end of the story--  after the resurrection.  We hear Jesus saying “Follow me,” as though it’s a beginning.
            The first disciples were having a hard time figuring out how to live after the resurrection, so they were holding on to what was familiar to them. 

It seems they needed a new beginning—a new call.   So Jesus takes bread and fish and gives it to them, and they share a meal together.   Then Jesus says to Simon Peter, “Do you love me?”  Peter says, “Yes, Lord.  You know I love you.”  (Now this is the same Peter who denied Jesus three times on the night he was arrested, because he was afraid.)  Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” 
            A second time, Jesus asks Peter:  “Do you love me?”  Peter says, “Yes, Lord.  You know I love you.”  Jesus says,  “Tend my sheep.”
            A third time, Jesus ask, “Do you love me?”  Peter says, “Of course I love you!”  Again, Jesus says, “Feed my sheep.”  
           
More than two thousand years later, we’re trying to figure out how to follow Jesus in this new time.   I don’t have to tell you that this is a challenging time for the church—and not only for smaller congregations like Littlefield.
The church in North America has been in decline.   We are in a time that I think can be spiritually bewildering… and discouraging.    I think a lot of people are wondering, with Ezekiel::  “Can these bones live?”
We are living in a time of huge change… and cosmic SHIFT:  technological, cultural, political, and religious.   Think about it:  When I was in the process of moving here to Dearborn 18 years ago, a few of us had email accounts.  Technological things that we take for granted now—websites, Google searches, Facebook, Twitter, Pintarest,  e-books, etc.—we didn’t have any of them 20 or so years ago. 
A few weeks ago, the Pew Research Center for Religion & Public Life reported in a massive study that 22.8 percent of Americans identified with no organized religion, a dramatic rise from 16.1 percent in 2007, the last time the nonprofit research group took such a sweeping look at religion in America.. [2]
Society is changing.  And, according to Harvey Cox, we are now experiencing the biggest shift in Christianity since the 4th century.   So it’s no wonder we feel bewildered… disoriented… and  maybe anxious or afraid.
It’s tempting to just go fishing.  And yet… there have been times of disruption and change and loss before, in the world, and here at Littlefield. 
             Back in 1960, Littlefield had 1,250 members.  But a lot of things started changing.  For a variety of reasons, mainline churches began to lose prestige and power and lost anywhere from a quarter to a third of their members.  This was just the beginning of some challenging times for Littlefield Church.
            Harry Geissinger came to be the senior pastor and brought strong visionary leadership the congregation needed.  The 1960’s and 1970’s were tumultuous times in our society, in the world, and in the church.  Life in the metro Detroit area was marked by social upheaval and a series of crises in the 1960’s, including block-busting and the 1967 race riot.  The congregation struggled with the impact of “white flight” out of its Detroit neighborhoods and significant growth in the number of Arab Americans in its Dearborn neighborhoods. 
            The changes in the community reduced the size of the Littlefield congregation.  Some churches might have packed up and moved to the suburbs. 
            But, as a mission study done during this time observed, “In the face of tremendous social changes going on all around it, Littlefield Presbyterian Church did not split apart or turn in on itself.  It didn’t close down or lose faith….”  
            In the mid- to late-seventies, a need emerged and was identified: to develop a relationship with our Arab-American neighbors, to bridge cultural differences and overcome misunderstandings among Christians and Muslims.  Since that time, Littlefield Presbyterian Church has taken a leadership role in carrying out a ministry of reconciliation.
            In 1979, Bill Gepford began his work as Director of Arab-American Relations in Dearborn and Assistant Pastor of Littlefield. This was a result of “a strong sense of mission and faith in the future…”  This pioneering program was supported by the General Assembly, the Synod of the Covenant, the Presbytery of Detroit, and Littlefield Church. 
             
            1986 was a big year at Littlefield.  The first Interfaith Thanksgiving Service was held at Littlefield, with participants from the Muslim, Christian, and Jewish communities, and the service continued for many years until many communities in the region started holding their own interfaith Thanksgiving services. 
            The same year the congregation’s holiday basket project served 80 families and continued to do so until a few years ago.  One of the things that was so impressive about this program was how it brought together local organizations like ACCESS, Fordson High School and McDonald Elementary schools,  merchants, and others to work together to feed hungry people.
            In the late 1980’s, there were three classes of English as a Second Language being held at Littlefield, operated by the Dearborn Public Schools, and in 1990 the congregation began a cooperative relationship with the YWCA to offer a Head Start preschool program.  Both of these partnerships served the people in the community and provided supplemental income to help fund Littlefield’s mission. 
So it was a disappointing and anxious time when we lost both these community programs a couple of years ago.  We have another congregation renting space on weekends, and that helps.  But, as our finance committee has been telling us, “If nothing changes, Littlefield only has a couple of years.”

Now, I have to tell a little story.  At some point shortly after I’d moved here and bought a house, I was having a conversation with someone who said, “Well, we’re only going to be open for another 2 or 3 years.”
What I discovered was that a couple of our elders with business experience had looked at the finances a few years before that and projected that “if nothing changes, the church would have to close in 5 years.” 
That was 18 years ago.  Obviously, some things did change.

In the Presbyterian church, every time a pastor leaves, the congregation does a mission study.  After Del Meester left in 1994, the mission study said it well:  “Outreach to the community is at the heart of Littlefield Church’s ministry….Our primary challenge is the one that has always faced Christians:  to discern what God is calling us to do, and to reflect and model God’s love, justice, and peace…. The members of Littlefield believe that the work of the Holy Spirit among us gives us energy and mission and that we are called by God to re-invent and re-orient ourselves with regard to who we are and what to do as God’s people.“
A few months after I got here, Doris Edwards came to me with an idea for holding a Peace Camp at Littlefield, and by the next summer, in 1998, we held our first Peace Camp.  We’ve held one almost every year since, and are gearing up for Peace Camp 2015.
The events of September 11, 2001 changed all our lives and had a major impact on our congregation’s life, as we had a renewed sense of urgency about working to further understanding and cooperation between different religious groups. We had a series of Christian-Muslim Dialogue days in those years, as well as a number of educational forums.  In recent years, we have held an Interfaith Prayer for Peace service in September.   We find ways to come together to grow in understanding  and pray together for peace.

So here we are.  Today we remember and give thanks for 85 years of mission and ministry at Littlefield.  It’s easy to get discouraged when we look around at the small numbers.  But Littlefield continues to be a very special congregation with a unique mission. 
The new people who have joined us in recent years seem to think Littlefield is a special place.  We’re thrilled to have children again.   And for a small congregation, we have wonderful music. 
A little later in the service, we’re going to have some time for “rejoicing”, so we’ll continue to count our blessings then.

This is a challenging, sometimes confusing, sometimes anxious, but also exciting time to be doing ministry!  Things are changing, and we have so much learning and discernment to do, in order to serve Christ faithfully in this new time, with new possibilities. 
When we feel like giving up and going fishing, Jesus keeps showing up.
             Do you love me?  If you do, feed my sheep. 
Do we hear him calling?   Follow me.  The world needs you to be salt and light… and to love one another and your neighbors.

            Now to the One who by the power at work within us
            Is able to do far more abundantly
            Than all we can ask or imagine,
            To God be glory in the church
            And in Christ Jesus,
            To all generations, forever and ever.   Amen.  
  [3]
             

Rev. Fran Hayes, Pastor
Littlefield Presbyterian Church
Dearborn, Michigan
June 7, 2015