"Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of the disciples; which are not written in this book; but these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ; the son of God, and that believing you may have life in his name."
What more is there to say after that? Sure, there's more that could be written. This is enough. The book comes to a close with a state-ment of purpose. The Gospel of John was written so that we may believe Jesus is the son of God and have life in his name. The end.
Except it's not the end. There's one more chapter involving a huge haul of fish, a breakfast on the beach, and Christ being redundant, repetitive and asking the same question three times. That chapter concludes with: "But there are also many other things which Jesus did; were every one of them written, I suppose the world itself could not contain the books that would be written." That really is the end of the Gospel of John. What happened?
It sure looks to me like this last chapter was added on. But it's included in the oldest manuscripts. There's no evidence the book ever circulated without it. Moreover, the language of the last chapter is consistent with the preceding twenty. It looks to me like the author wrote an ending and then realized something was missing. It must have been something really important, or he would have let it go.
What is so important in these last verses? There's nothing remarkable about disciples spending a night fishing and not catching anything. That happens to the best fishermen. There's nothing remarkable about the miraculous haul of fish. Yes, it was a miracle, but the gospel has already given us plenty of other miracles of abundance. It began with the miraculous transformation of water into an abundance of fine wine. Another such miracle doesn't add much.
What is new in this final chapter is the exchange between Christ and Peter. Just days before Peter had denied Christ three times. Now Christ asks Peter three times, "Do you love me?" Each time Peter responds, "You know that I love you." After each declaration of love Christ commands, "Feed my lambs . . . tend my sheep . . . feed my sheep." What is Christ driving home in his dialogue with Peter?
On one level Peter is given the opportunity to cancel out those three cowardly denials he made on Good Friday. Three times he insisted he didn't even know Jesus. Now he declares his love for the Lord three times. The slate is wiped clean. If you ever wonder whether the Lord wants to do business with you; if you ever doubt the Lord can make use of you, remember Peter. If you still have doubts remember Paul. One was a coward and the other a killer. We can't rule out ourselves - or anyone else - as a servant of the Lord.
But there's something even more important going on here. Three times Peter declares his love for the Lord. Three times Christ commands, "feed . . . tend, . . . feed." It's not enough to say the words or sing the hymns or pray the prayers. Along with that there are sheep to feed. It's not either/or. It's both/and. If you're wondering who the sheep are you might as well ask, "Who is my neighbor?" The answer is the same. It's whoever needs the tender, loving care of the Lord. If you love the Lord, you feed the Lord's sheep. You might think of it as a job description for Peter and every disciple who came after him right down to you and me.
Which brings me to yesterday. No, it doesn't. It brings me to November, 1937. That was when a small group of people got together in someone's living room and founded this congregation. They were building upon nearly 2000 years of experience, wisdom, and faith. If they hadn't started this church yesterday wouldn't have happened. Then there were the thousands of people between 1937 and 2004 who gave time, talent, and treasure to keep this community going. Without them yesterday wouldn't have happened. Then there are all of you who pay the bills and go to meetings and sing in the choir and organize yard sales and bake pies so that this Body of Christ lives. Without all of those precious gifts yesterday would not have happened. Then there were all of you who gave so generously last year that there was over $1000 left over for this year's Christmas In April. Then there were all of you who gave so generously this year that there was about $3500 available for the project. I can't express how much that level of support means. In the planning stage we knew we had the backing of the whole congregation to do the job right without cutting corners to save a buck or two. We knew when we started work if we needed more lumber, paint, mulch, or cleaning supplies we had the resources to get whatever was needed. Many people who weren't physically there gave a large lift to those who were. Thank you.
"Feed my lambs . . . tend my sheep . . . feed my sheep."
Then there was yesterday. Thirty people signed up to work on our Christmas In April home. But you know how it is. Things come up. Plans change. I'm certainly not going to point fingers at those who gave into the temptation to spend a gorgeous spring day doing something other than scrubbing greasy, bug-infested kitchen cabinets. So, of the thirty who signed up, how many actually showed up? Forty-one.
The house belongs to an elderly man of modest means. In the years he looked after his invalid wife he had no money, time, or energy to maintain the home. She died two years ago. By then what needed to be done was overwhelming. I don't know if he prayed for a miracle. In such circumstances people often give up hope even for a miracle. Then the Shock and Awe Construction Company arrived.
"Feed . . . tend . . . feed."
That greasy, bug-infested kitchen was cleaned and painted. New, custom made doors were fitted to the cabinets. The bathroom was cleaned, possibly for the first time . . . in a very long time. Walls were scraped and painted along with ceilings and trim. A new rug was put down in the living room. What started as a dingy cave of a place was, at the end of the day, bright and inviting.
Outside years of accumulated leaves and sticks were raked up and bagged. Overgrown shrubs and brush were removed. Assorted trash was hauled away. All together it was enough to fill two dump trucks. A broken concrete step was pulled out and a new one poured in place. A cinderblock wall was patched and painted. Siding had fallen away leaving a big hole in the side of the house where vermin nested. That was cleaned out and repaired. Along one side of the property a hundred feet of wooden retaining wall had rotted away. What was left of it was removed, the earth graded, and a new retaining wall was built in its place. Someone I know had a similar wall built at an apartment complex, and the contractor charged $40,000. I can't even guess the total dollar value of all you accomplished yesterday.
"Feed . . . tend . . . feed."
It wasn't all sweetness and light. A relative of the owner arrived at midday. Immediately he began to complain. It was stupid to paint the interior before the old windows were replaced. In his judgment the retaining wall wouldn't last two years. We were just a bunch of amateurs who didn't know what we were doing. But therein lies the test. We are called by faith to be servants in Christ's name. We don't really know what that means until someone treats us like servants. Some of you were treated like servants yesterday, and you still served. I am immensely proud of this entire congregation. I hope you are, too.
That was yesterday. Next Sunday we'll gather for worship. Then we'll take a break for lunch and continue our worship as we walk for CROP to feed the hungry, shelter refugees, and heal the sick.
"Feed . . . tend . . . feed."
Lord, you know that we love you. This is why we do what we do. This is who we are. Jesus did not command the whole world to go to church. Jesus commanded the church to go to the whole world. Amen.
Amen.