The greatest single cause of atheism in the world today is Christians who acknowledge Jesus with their lips and walk out the door and deny Him by their lifestyle. That is what an unbelieving world simply finds unbelievable.
Brennan Manning
Jesus of Nazareth is a dark Asian-Mediterranean Jewish man of color, probably plain looking, possibly ugly.
If he showed up in America today, he’d probably have a rough go of it with most Christians, conservative and liberal.
He was prickly with wealthy religious people of power and comfort, and challenged those who regarded themselves as good.
Christ the Lord drew large crowds of the poor, over-worked, under-fed, marginalized and oppressed who often protested and rioted against injustice.
This made him an irritating and subversive threat to the political and hypocritical religious establishment of his own people such that they used their justice system to execute him.
I don’t imagine it’d be any different today in America. Or any other country.
After the resurrection of Jesus, having gotten in “good trouble” and crucified for blasphemy and political sedition, the King of the Jews surprisingly began to make appearances to his disciples and apostles, the brave women and men who had supported his ministry to the poor lost sheep of Israel.
The final story in the gospel according to John is of the resurrected King Jesus appearing unexpectedly to Peter and seven other apostles.
It is where they are re-invited to participate in the kingdom of God after their denial and abandonment of the Lord at his lynching.
The story reminds us that there is hope for hypocritical Christians who repent for avoiding suffering and truth.
But what about those who acknowledge Jesus with their lips, participate in church, but then go out the door and deny the Lord with their lifestyle, marring souls through their bigotry, racism, greed, lust for power, and violence? May they be like Peter.
Jesus’ reconciliation with Peter is odd, personal, and memorable. You can read it in full here. The heart of the encounter is the question Jesus repeats thrice to Peter: “do you love me?” Each time he confesses with his lips: “Yes, you know that I love you.”
I wonder what kind of dramatic pause followed each question and response, in what way did the tension thicken over the campfire on the beach, what kind of tears formed in their eyes as they exchanged the broken bread and flamed fish.
Swallowing his pride with the broken bread and bits of cooked fish, Peter was raised up from his denial to become a servant once again with a most difficult and almost impossible task: go get in “good trouble” as you become a believable shepherd of the Lord’s unruly lambs.
There were hundreds of Jewish men and women who were now followers of Jesus, and within a few months, especially in the weeks following Pentecost, thousands of Jews from across the Roman Empire would become loyal to Jesus of Nazareth as the Son of God, the Christ and King of Israel.
Peter was tasked with caring for, shepherding, “feeding” and tending to this new diverse flock of sheep, of the Lord’s followers.
This included rich and poor Jews, young and old, married and single, those with families and those abandoned, Palestinian and Persian and Egyptian and Greek and Roman Jews and Gentiles; it got complicated.
It’s not like there wasn’t racial and ethnic bigotry in the first days of the church; you can read about Peter and Paul and James the brother of Jesus who was bishop in Jerusalem sorting out the many different tensions, expectations and values that clashed in this new flock of sheep.
But what was the core motivation and key experience that shaped all of this complex and difficult shepherding?
Peter’s hypocrisy, his repentance, his calling and commission: walk out the door and humbly, full of love, take care of each other. “Do you love me? Feed my sheep.”
When I traveled in the Holy Land this past February, we spent two days in Galilee, including at the synagogue in Capernaum and around the sea of Tiberius (or sea of Galilee, or Lake Gennesaret).
As the sun set behind the ancient church on the pebbled coastline, sitting under the beach tree, imagining the story being played out in front of me – I was reminded of my own need to be restored and reconciled from my hypocrisy and cowardice, and yet to hear Lord’s question to Peter – and to all the apostles and disciples through all generations in all places: “Do you love me? Then take care of each other.”
Peter was a flawed sheep and imperfect leader, who had to overcome cowardice, bigotry and prejudices. But he did.
His announcement of the good news of the kingdom of God as revealed through the Lord Jesus Christ was available to Jew and Gentile sheep.
Don’t let that inclusion unimpress you – this was a radical act of unity, a shocking act of reconciliation, a rupture in the imagination of who was right and pure and who was not.
The Palestinian Christians of the Holy Land in particular still experience deep-seated prejudice and bigotry that they must resist and overcome daily, in ways different but similar to Christians of color in America, and around the world.
It’s the denial of the ways the racist bias has shaped our institutions and theology that makes it so corrosive, our unwillingness to see it, admit it, own it, repent of it, and begin to undo it.
May you hear the Lord confronting your prejudices and hypocrisy, may you hear his question in your spirit, may it provoke you to wake up even more to the way you are shaped by our racist culture, and may you respond to Christ’s question like Peter did, and walk out the door to join in the believable gospel work of welcoming strangers and taking care of each other through our love for the Lord.
