The Making of a Man

John 21:1-L7

April 5, 1970

John M, Buchanan

Bethany Presbyterian Church

Have you ever walked along the sea shore in the very early morning? The
breakers seem quieter then: the air is fresh and still very cool: the chill of the
breeze does battle on your back with the faint sun and you shiver occasionally. The
beach is littered with the early tide's delivery of shells, clams, mussels: the
only irregular sound is the occasional squawk of a gull. It's misty and salty and
very good for reflecting on one's smallness and for putting one's concerms back into
perspective.

Tt was a morning like that on the sea of Galilea, also called the Sea of Tiberius.
Seven men were in a boat fishing about 100 yards off the beach, completely silent,
barely visible in the light of dawn. . It was no an uncommon sight: fishormen often
spent the night in their small boats. But there was something special about this
party. These were seven disciples of Jesus. They had returned from Jerusalom to
their familiar sea. It mast have seemed like months to them, but it was only a few
weeks prior that they had followed Jesus from Galilea to the city. They had witnessed
his stcady pilgrimage to the cross. They were with him as he cleansed the Temple, when
he confronted the angry Priests and Scribes. They were with him in an upper room
for the Last Supper: they watched him betrayed and arrested. No doubt they were
somewhere in that mob which stood below Pilate's portico and screamed for his cruci-
fixion. They had seen that, too. They had stayed together in the valley of the
shadow of death, and together, on the first day of the week, they had shared the
experience of his Risen Presence. These wore no ordinary fishermen. But they had
returned to Galilea, thinking, talking, waiting.

I like to imagine that it was Peter who suggested that they go fishing for a
while. The roturn to the boat, the ropes, the nets and the hard work would be
therapy for troubled minds.

So they were 100 yards offshore in the dawn, with empty nets, and a voice from
the beach broke the silence. “Have you caught anything?" When they signalled that
their nets were empty the man, whom they had not noticed, advised them to try the
other side of the boat. Again, it was not an uncommon procedure. Shoals of fish
are visible from the shore in the early light of dawn, and fishing partios often
left one of their number there to be a "spotter".

Thoy did as he advised, and it was thon that John ~ the first to beliove - Te-
cognized him. "It is the Lord." Peter, always impetuous, always the first to act,
pulled on his short coat, jumped out of the boat, half swimming, running, stumbling
through the water. Was John right? Was it Jesus? Perhaps someone clse: - or just a
delusion. He would sec first: nothing clse mattered. And the others pulled in the
net and dragged it slowly to the beach.

He had already started a fire: a few fish were cooking and he had a loaf of
bread. He invited them to add some of the fish they had caught and to join him for
breakfast. So they broke bread together again, and the memory of that last supper
and the ovonts it prefaced mst have burned in their hearts. Nono of them dared
speak; cach had his own private thoughts: each shared a particular guilt. The last
time they were together like this they had deserted him. So the first word would be
his. Their apologies ~ confessions - excuses — could not be said.

"Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?" I+ was Peter he
addressed: through Peter he had come to conclude some unfinished business. To fully
understand his question we must go back again and take another look at tho man.

“ilies

Peter was the unofficial leader, the spokesman. He was the activist, the rugged
fisherman who was far better at feeling something than thinking it through. He was
the one to speak first - thus the one who first caught a glimmer of the truth that
Jesus was the Christ; but also the first to misunderstand what that moant. Peter
was a big man with a big heart and deep feelings. At the last supper it was Peter
who protested vehemently that he would never deny Jesus. It was Poter who protested ~
about Jesus washing their fect. In the garden it was Peter who drew his sword and
would gladly have fought it out with the guards. He would have died for Jesus and
with Jesus at that moment.

When the rest slipped into the shadows of Gethsemane, fleeing in terror, it
was Petor alone who followed, knowing the foolishness, the risks, yet unable to do
otherwise. And so it was Peter who was identified in the courtyard outside the
building where they were questioning Jesus. "You are one of them!" He wasn't pre=
pared for this. To fight and die - yes. But the sudden accusation caught him off
guard. Typically his response was immediate, reflexive: he denied it. Three times

during that long and agonizing night tho accusation came. Three times Peter denied
ever knowing Jesus, the last time punctuating it with an obscenity. When the soldiers
brought Jesus out of the house their eyes must have met briefly: he recalled Jesus'
statement that he would do exactly what he had just done. And the agony in this big
man's heart was more than we can possibly imagine.

Of all the disciples portrayed in the New Testament Peter is the most under—
standable. This man is for real. He acted like poople we know. He did things the
way many of us would have done them. In one moment he passionately belioved: in the
next moment he could be thoughtless and unfaithful. He was impetuous, with his heart
on his slecve. In Jesus Christ he had found something big enough to give his life
to, but time and time again he was filled with self-doubt. He was not good enough.
He had failed. In a crisis he had acted selfishly, saving his own skin. I can see
Peter stumbling through the surf with tears streaming down his cheeks: the tears of
guilt and joy which only big men are free to shed. I can sec Peter standing before
his Lord, staring dumbly at the shells and sand and fire and bread.

"Do you love me more than these? Do you love me, Peter, more than these
others do? - Do you love me more than you love them? Do you love me more than you
love the fish and the fresh salt air, and the good feeling of tired mecles and
friends and breakfast on the beach?" We don't know what the "these" indicates.

We can stand with Peter, though, and sense that there is no need to say mach.
"Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."

Peter had denied Jesus three times. So the questions came three times.
Nothing so disgusted this big, straightforward man as the shallow hypocrisy of the
Pharisees strutting arrogantly in the Temple. Nothing was so offensive as the
verbal orthodoxy of the Scribe who said one thing and lived another, And now he was
no different. He offered no explanations: he entered the plea of guilty: "Lord, you
know everything. You know that I love you." :

The dialogue ends there, and I would suggest to you that it constituted the
making of a man. For Peter was not judged or criticized or condemmed for what he
had done and been. Peter's failure - and it was clearly a failure — was nevertheless
the failure of a brave man. He had lied and been selfish ~ but-he alone had put
himself in a situation where he could fail. He alone had followed that far ~ he
alone love that mach.

Peter became a man, I would suggest, when Jesus led him to accept himself.

His becoming a man was resolved on that beaoh when he learned that difficult lesson
that ho was capable of failure and dishonesty and cowardice: when he learned to
accept that about himself.

From the psychological disciplines we have learned that a major emotional
problem with a lot of people is a lack of self-esteem. We have ideals and goals and
morals by which we live and in the light of which wo sec oursclves. And we never
make the grade. We keep stumbling and falling, denying our ideal, impetuously doing

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POETS ae yg:

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what our model dictates against. And as the tension between model and self
inoreases, self-esteem lowers until we literally can't stand ourselves.

The psychologists tell us that the man who can't stand himself can't very
well love anyone else; in fact he can't live very effectively. -He will pursue
self-esteem in any number of ways — but it will be forever illusive. He will
look to others for his own worth, and where the others fail he will assume that
the greater fault is his own. ,

The Good News of the Gospel, however, is that an indiviual's worth, his
self~esteem depends on nothing but the Grace of God. For the Christian, self
acceptance is based on nothing but the loving acceptance of Jesus Christ. He
could accept Peter -— in spite of the denials. He accepts me and you anin spite
of thousand failures each day brings.

Peter became a man when he learned that. He heard the Gospel on that misty
beach, perhaps for the first time, as he felt the grace of Jesus Christ accept
him, support him - when he had nothing to offer but his stumbling, errant life.
Peter became an effective person, a great and courageous Saint, truly and
fully a man.

There is a second motif in all of this, not unrelated to the first, which
merits our attention. Peter professed his love for Jesus three times. And
after each profession Jesus said: "Feed my lambs ~— tend my sheep - feed my
sheep.” That is to say, "Your failures do not condemn you, Peter. But if you
profess to love me, the way to live that love is in service to others. The
test of your love for me is not so much in your unswerving loyalty, certainly
not in verbal affirmations of faith. It is solely in the service it causes
you to render other men.

Wo know the truth of that in our ow interpersonal relations, particularly
our parenthood and marriages. We know that we can save our breath if our
behavior toward our children does not express something of what we are trying
to tell them. A new generation of young people has called our hand when we
pontificate about the evils of drugs - while depending on gentle blue pills to
calm our nerves, and little white pills to bring sleep, and pink capsules to
get us going in the morning: and in between depending on nicotine, cafcine,
codeine and alcohol to see us through. We're learning a hard lesson here ~ and
we learn it intimately with our wives and husbands. Verbal affirmation are
meaningless. Protestations of undying love count for nothing until they get
expressed in kindness, forgiveness and thoughtfulness.

We're beginning to see the truth of that relative to the church. No where
in all of society are more noble affirmations articulated than in the sanctuary
of a church on Sunday morning. And they mean absolutely nothing - until some
sheep start getting fed.

Someone has recently ‘said that the typical Protestant Church today is like
a big department store that lets all the clerks in at 9:30 and thon locks the
doors. All the workers spend the day selling items to each other, teaching
each other how to be bettor clerks, vacuuming the carpets and keeping the
shelves neat. Then at 5:00 the doors are opened and they all go home.

It bothers me, and if you love your church, it onght to bother you, that
there aren't really very many sheep getting fed. There really aren't too
many people concretely helped by our presenco hore on Sunday morning. Of course
a portion of that money we give will go to the helping ministry of the Church
and that is good. But individuals - in Lafayette - this neighborhood - these
are our concern. That is the mission of this Church. To serve and love — to
make a difference in the lives of people in the name of Jesus Christ.

~4-

Peter became a man when he could accept himself, and whnn he saw that
greatest truth the Gospel has contributed to the life of humanity - that real
life is living for others; that all the meaning and satisfaction and joy a
man needs derives from living in effective service of his fcllowmen.

Peter became a man — and so may we.

Amen.

Forgive us, our Father for our daily denial. Help us to accept the
failures in ourselves and to live in the freedom of your love. Make us
gensitive to the needs of others, so that our creeds become deeds of love,
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Amen.