Yes, you know that I love you—Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter (May 4, 2025)
Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter (May 4, 2025) at St. James’ Episcopal Church in Hyde Park, NY. View the scripture readings and the Collect of the Day.
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Transcript
May only truth be spoken here and only truth be heard. In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen. Please be seated.
I'm thinking of the spiritual that has the verse that goes, sometimes I feel discouraged and think my work's in vain, but then the Holy Spirit restores my faith again. There is a balm in Gilead. And I wanted to ask you, are there days where you feel discouraged?
I talked to Deacon Gail this morning. I hope she won't mind me sharing this. She says it's okay. Yesterday, a busload of farm workers up near Rochester, not far from where I grew up, (and Gail has spent decades of her life advocating for the rights of farm workers in New York State advocating for things that I take for granted, things like bathroom breaks and water, just the right to be able to work in decent conditions). And yesterday a busload of farm workers who were on their way to work, were arrested, maybe being deported. We don't know yet. And what did you say to me? You said, I'm heartbroken. I'm heartbroken. I'm heartbroken this morning. And someone else on our prayer team was asking this week, could we please pray for an end to the blockade on humanitarian aid in Gaza? Because so many people, little children are suffering and dying needlessly, including in hospitals run by our own church.
These are God's people, God's children. This is our family. And even though we've been asked by some to believe that our empathy is a weakness or a failing or a sin, we know that the truth is that our empathy connects us to one another. And that as members of Christ's body, we are aware of being part of a family that is greater than religion or race or creed or nationality. And we're blessed to know ourselves, to be part of God's family. But even so, there are days where, oh, it's raining and we might feel discouraged.
It's especially hard in the great 50 days of Easter; our music is joyful. The mood of Easter is buoyancy, excitement, new life, plants springing out of the ground. And if we find ourselves discouraged on a day in Easter, then we might feel like we are out of sync with the season. We feel this gap open up.
And so I am grateful that today we read this final chapter from John's gospel because part of what I want you to see in this story is that if you find yourself on one day or another because of things in the world outside or because of things close in your heart or because of the ways those two things connect; if you find yourself discouraged, you are right there alongside the first disciples of Christ, the earliest apostles, because where do we find them? This morning in the season of Easter, two times the risen Christ has appeared to them. He has said to St. Thomas, go ahead, touch me. Put your hand in my side. He has eaten in front of them. They know that he lives. And yet on this day, which is kind of an unnamed amount of time since his resurrection. Sometime has passed, we get the sense we find him here. We find the disciples sitting by the lake of Galilee back where it all began. And they seem not to have any momentum whatsoever. I would say they seem a little discouraged. They're sitting, waiting. They aren't talking about Jesus. They don't seem inspired. In fact, Peter says, you know what? I think I'll go fishing. And they're all like, oh, that seems like a good idea. That's something we can do. So they all get in the boat.
These discouraged people are kind of cut off from their mission. It's like, here they are, right where Jesus called them in the beginning. Remember Jesus said in a different gospel, he said, come with me, I will make you fishers of humanity. But they're like, let's go back to the fishing for fish. And off they get in the boat, just like before they spend the night casting their nets and picking up nothing. And as dawn breaks these discouraged disciples, see a stranger standing on the shore. Children, how are you doing out there? Have you caught anything? No. Not a thing. Not a thing. The stranger says, go ahead, toss your net on the other side. And immediately as they feel the net fill up and the bounty of the fish that they've suddenly caught overwhelms them, they realize exactly who the stranger is right there on the shore showing up in the middle of their discouragement, their everyday lives. It is the Lord, says the disciple who Jesus loved. And St. Peter puts his clothes back on and he jumps in the water and he swims to shore, and the rest of the disciples are hauling the net. They all come onto the shore and here is Jesus Christ. And he's tending a little fire on the beach for them, and he's grilling some fish and he's got some bread and he's cooking it. He says, children come and eat.
Now, little side note, it has been observed to me recently that it is a good thing that we have gospels beyond the gospel of John, because otherwise we would be eating fish every Sunday. John never mentions the bread and the wine, but you get bread and fish. So we'd be eating fish and washing one another's feet every Sunday. So thank God for St. Luke, St. Mark and St. Matthew and St. Paul. All right, so here they are eating these fish. Now things get quiet around the fire, and that's when Jesus turns to Peter.
He says, Peter, do you love me? And Peter says, yeah. Yes Lord, you know I love you. Feed my sheep, says Christ, feed my sheep. Then he asks him again. Simon, do you love me? Peter says, yes, you know everything. You know that I love you. Tend my lambs. Can you imagine the fire stirring, you know the crackling. A third time, Jesus turns to Peter, Simon, do you love me? It hurts. It hurts to be asked three times. Do you love me? Peter feels hurt. He says, yes, Lord, you know that I love you. Feed my sheep.
There by the fire, there's one other place that a charcoal fire is burning in the gospel of John. It's in the courtyard. Outside the trial three times St. Peter has asked, do you know this man? No, I do not know him. Around that fire, but I saw you with him, are you not one of his friends? Man, I am not. And so two fires. It hurts for Peter to remember, yes, I betrayed the person I love the most. I betrayed what I love. I denied myself and the truth. But three times Jesus says to Peter, you can begin again. You can be redeemed by your love for me now. Do you love me? Yes. Yes, Lord, I do love you.
We are here. We're here because we love Jesus. We're growing in love for Jesus. Jesus says, very well, you who love me feed my sheep, tend my lambs, care for one another and for my whole family. And these words from Jesus heal and hurt at the same time. Because just like Peter, we connect with those times that we ourselves have betrayed our love for Jesus. Times that we have not loved one another as we should. We have not extended the care that is due to all of God's creation for the sake of the one that we love, who unites us in bonds of love. But gathered at that feast with him we renew again our love for one another to nourish, to care, to love every member of God's family.
Right now, with louder and louder voices, the world around us is saying love, sure, but not those people. Or you can feed, but leave these ones out. You can care, but not these ones. I'm not sure that they deserve it. And those voices are louder and louder. It is a betrayal of the gospel. It is a betrayal of the love that we have for Jesus, for anybody who claims to be a Christian, to stand and say that these ones or these do not deserve the care and belonging that is due to all members of Christ's body and all members of God's family.
And it hurts. It hurts to see that betrayal—and our response? Lord, you know everything. You know that we love you. So we will feed your sheep, tend your lambs. We will remember, as our own bishop says, there is one thing we are here to do. One thing that is most important: the most important thing we do is care for one another. Everywhere. Everyone. Feed my sheep, tend my lambs. The most important thing we do is care for one another, in the name of Christ, the one who first loved us and commands us to love one another. Amen.