Laity Sunday Sermon

Jesus asks Simon Peter three times.  Do you love me?  And three times he instructs Simon Peter to watch over his flock. 

Certainly the thrice asked question mirrors the three times Simon Peter denied Jesus.  But I learned something I found very interesting as I prepared for today.   In Greek, as he questions Simon Peter the first two times, Jesus uses a higher, or purer form of the word “love.”  Yet Simon Peter replies to Jesus with a lesser form of the word love.   I highly doubt this is Simon Peter’s way of saying, “I love you, Jesus.  Just not that much!” 

It seems to me that it’s more a reflection of his limitations as a human being.  He can’t love Jesus in the same way he is loved by Jesus.  Just as we are loved by God in a way we can’t begin to return in kind. 

As he asks a third time, Jesus makes a subtle change.  He uses the same word for love that Simon Peter has used to answer him.   As if to say he understands Simon Peter’s limitations, and accepts him as he able to be. 

The weight of what Jesus asked of his disciples feels very daunting to me.  How were they able to continue on in the wake of their loss, faced with the physical absence of Jesus to lead them?  They exhibited a commitment, a courage and a faith beyond what I could ever imagine being able to find within myself.   These were ordinary people.  Not holy.  Not one Yale Divinity School graduate among them.  Ordinary, imperfect people.  They doubted, denied and betrayed, and yet they were still beloved. 

It’s actually helpful to me to remember that the disciples weren’t angels descended from the heavens, but instead people plucked from the Earth.  Because it reminds me that the ability to do great things is not beyond any of us.  It says to me that perfection is not a prerequisite for being a disciple of Christ.    

So why, when I try to think of myself as a disciple, do I feel a bit uncomfortable with that word?  It might be in part because it feels like the title “disciple” is just that - a title, reserved for those 12 who followed Jesus and were loved by Jesus, and were entrusted by Jesus with the survival of his Church.  It feels prideful to even think of putting myself in such company.  But there’s another implication to the word disciple that I struggle with as well.

Here – let me read you the Google.com definition, courtesy of the Free Online Dictionary:

Disciple - One who embraces and assists in spreading the teachings of another.”   

I’m OK with the embracing.   It’s the spreading that makes me squirm!  Let’s be honest.  We UCC’ers are not a particularly evangelical bunch.  We aren’t likely to go door to door with Jesus’ message of unconditional love and forgiveness.  But despite our reticence to literally “spread the word,” I am wholly convinced that all of us share the teachings of Jesus with those around us each and every day. 

 Most certainly, we witnessed this spirit in the great people of Boston this week, as they stepped forward in the face of their own peril to help the injured after the blasts.  But more commonly, the opportunity for discipleship comes in far quieter ways.  It happens when a group organizes a mission trip, or a Habitat for Humanity build.  It happens when someone takes time from their busy schedule to prepare and serve a meal at Columbus house.  It happens when we check in on a lonely or grieving neighbor.  It even happens when we say a silent prayer for a friend, or a loved one, or a stranger. 

Just as all the folks who stepped up to help others during the tragic events in Boston and Texas this week uniformly said, “I’m not a hero,” we want to say, “I’m no disciple,” as if this releases us from the responsibility of doing great things.   But just as Jesus chose his 12, God chooses us every day.  Every time we make a choice do what God would have us do… those are moments when we are inescapably disciples. 

So, here’s the part I think most of us forget.  In those moments when we don’t do what God would have us do, guess what - we are still disciples. Flawed, imperfect, but still beloved.  So if you’re sitting out there fretting over the ways you weren’t so very much like Jesus last week, well, that is O-K.   If you’re wondering how you are ever going to manage to be disciple-like this week, that’s OK too.  

I am privileged to know so many people who just don’t realize how awesome they really are.  I imagine each of you knows more than a handful of those folks yourselves.  As a matter of fact, I know that many of you ARE those folks who don’t see how amazing you actually are. 

Embrace the disciple within you.  Remember that we are all so much more than followers, believers, church-going Christians.  Know that you are chosen by God to do great things – beloved in your imperfect-ness.  Just do the best you can do.  That’s all anyone can ask of any of us.  That’s all Jesus asks of us. 

Amen