Sermon for the Third Sunday of Easter, Year C (5-4-25)
"For the actual love of God, get over yourself!"
This was the response from a spiritual mentor after I had spent no less than 20 straight minutes moaning and bewailing my wretchedness: my pride and my defensiveness among other vices. The main point being that there was no way that God could possibly use someone so flawed to take up a place in the counsels of the church. That I was too far gone, too broken, too unredeemable.
"Oh for the actual love of God, Drake, get over yourself. You're only as wretched as the rest of us. You're not that special." Some of the best - and obviously most memorable - spiritual direction I've ever received.
We have two stories this morning of men who were - really by any account - potentially irredeemable. And certainly by any normal human standard unfit for ministry in Christ's Church. Saul of Tarsus was not quite yet the Paul we're more familiar with. Saul was by every respect an enemy of the Jesus movement. Setting out to arrest - and even kill - the earliest followers of the Way of Christ. You see there were rules to maintain. Laws to upkeep in order to maintain favor with the Most High. If a little bloodshed was the price to pay for religious purity, then so be it.
But Jesus had other plans. And by that I mean Jesus quite literally sits Saul down (actually more so knocks him on his backside) and simply asks, "why are you doing this? Why are you persecuting me?" Between the vision and the voice, this seems to be enough to get Saul's attention. I suppose he just needed to experience the
reality of Jesus rather than just the idea. Regardless, this does seem like a bit of a risky choice on Jesus' part - recruiting from the enemy's camp. Even Ananias, a faithful disciple of Jesus, feels the need to raise this point. "Go," Jesus says in response, "for he is an instrument whom I have chosen to bring my name before Gentiles and kings and before the people of Israel; I myself will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of my name."
And then we have Peter. Ambitious, brave - if not a bit reckless - Peter. The Rock on whom Christ would build the church. Also the same one who at the time of Jesus' execution fled in fear. The same one who once dropped everything to follow Christ, but in the time of trial was quick to deny that he ever knew Jesus. More than once, mind you. A betrayal in any sense, and minimally someone I personally would have some trouble trusting going forward.
Jesus seems to be a bit more forgiving - but not without making a point. "Simon son of John (which I interpret as a parent using your full name when they really want to make a point). Simon son of John, do you love me?" "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you," Peter says. "Feed my lambs". Then again, "Peter do you love me?" "Yes, I love you!" "Tend my sheep. Peter, do you love me?" And now Peter's feelings are hurt. Which leads me to believe that his three-fold denial of Jesus whom he so loves had already been locked into the deeper, darker corners of his memory. "Follow me," Jesus says. It wouldn't be the first time Jesus says this to Peter, but after this exchange I would imagine it hits a bit differently.
Let's recap. We have a murderous religious zealot and a disciple who is all bark and no bite.
Both of whom Jesus has determined will be central figures in his mission to bring heaven to earth. Leaders of the Rebellion against the oppression of the Empire (another Star Wars reference for you there). And so my question is: if Paul and Peter as flawed as they were, were able to walk into their God-ordained vocation in spite of their shortcomings. If they were able to so deeply trust that God's redeeming love would equip them with what they needed, and transform them into who they were created to be - my question is:
What's stopping you?
Even this early in my ministry I've heard too many people talk to me about a desire to engage or reengage a life of faith. To explore a nudge they feel toward a specific ministry of the Church only then to quickly follow up with something like, "oh but I'm not cut out for that, I've been away from the church too long." Or, "if God only knew the things I've done..."
Well first of all - God already does know, so we can let that one go. And second of all, get over yourself. Are all of us in our own special way deficient? D?o we all continually struggle to meet the mark? I think so. Or, at least I hope it's not just me. Here's the point, friends: when we decide that we are somehow especially messed up and too broken or damaged to be used by God we discount the very redemption project that God in Jesus Christ came to set out before us. There's a reason it was important that God became truly human in this whole set-up.
I think it's so we sense some credibility when God reminds us: "Yeah, I know how rotten it can be. I've been there, I've seen it. And I want you with me regardless. You are an instrument who I have chosen, follow me. We'll figure out the rest as we go."
So if you need some tough love this morning and think you are beyond God's using of you in a real way - get over yourself. And if you need a gentler reminder: God adores you. God came and died and rose again for you so that those stumbles and failures don't define you. So that you can confidentially walk into a path of meaning and wholeness and service to others. Knowing that the God of the universe loves you, and loves you unconditionally.
Amen

