Messages, Meditations, and Musings on the Life of Faith by Rev. Dr. Scott E. Olson, Interim Pastor, Christ Lutheran Church, Preston, MN

Sunday, March 23, 2014

"In Denial" - Sermon for the Third Sunday in Lent

In Denial
Lent 3 – Narrative Lectionary 4
March 23, 2014
Grace, Mankato, MN
John 18.12-27

We are continuing on our walk with Jesus to cross and the empty tomb. Much has happened since we read about Jesus washing the feet of his disciples last week. It was the last supper that Jesus has with his disciples, during which he gives what is known now as the Final Discourse. Some wags have called this the longest after dinner speech in the Bible. In reality, it is Jesus’ final instructions and marching orders because he knows he is going away and that they will be lost and alone without him. So, Jesus tells them to love one another and promises them that they won’t be alone because the Paraclete, the Holy Spirit, will come to guide them. Then Jesus ends with a marvelous prayer. Also during this time, after Peter vows to lay down his life for him, Jesus predicts Peter’s denial. Following the prayer, Jesus and his followers go to a garden where Jesus is arrested. During the arrest, Peter cuts off the ear of Malchus, the high priest’s slave, resulting in a rebuke from Jesus.

That brings us to our text today. Note how John stages the scene in our reading, how Jesus’ assertions are sandwiched between Peter’s denials. Craig Satterlee has likened this to putting two suspects in separate interrogation rooms for questioning. What is noteworthy is that, during his arrest and interrogation, Jesus says as he has all along, “I am,” while Peter says “I am not.” Peter denies knowing or being with Jesus, whereas Jesus doesn’t deny or reject his disciples, Peter denies everything about knowing Jesus and yet Jesus denies nothing, admitting his teaching has always been open and aboveboard. Think of the irony: Jesus’ teaching now rests in the hands of disciples who have turned their backs on him.

As always, the Bible is stocked with realistic but fallible human beings. That’s what makes it so powerful. One the one hand, Peter can make us feel better about our own frailties; we don’t feel so bad about our shortcomings. On the other hand, Peter’s shortcomings tend to magnify them as well. A number of years ago I attended a La Crosse Loggers baseball game with my oldest daughter. The Loggers are in the same league as the Mankato MoonDogs, where college players can get a taste of what it’s like to play professional baseball. Later in the game one well-lubricated “fan” was giving some of the players a very hard time because of their performance. Now, these players are not pros making millions; they’re college students who love the game and want to improve. They do not deserve that kind of abuse. However, what was sadder was that I did nothing in response; I just sat stewing. I know I shouldn’t confront the fan, but I could have at least cheered the players a little harder and thanked them afterward.

In the scheme of things, this wasn’t huge, but I denied knowing Jesus that day as much as Peter did long ago. It’s hard to admit that we are like Peter, who comes closest to following Jesus to the end, but instead falls furthest away. More times each day than we want to confess, in the things we say or don’t say, the things we do or don’t do, we keep our heads down, hunkering around that fire and deny being a follower of Jesus. During Lent, we come to terms with the undeniable reality of not being who people think we are or who we want to be. The Bible is a mirror that shows us not just minor imperfections but also our gaping brokenness and wounds.

Yet Lent is also a reminder that, although this is a major part of the story, it is not all of it. The good news today is that, in spite of our faithlessness, Jesus remains faithful to us to the end. And the story of Peter doesn’t end here either, no more than our stories end here. But for now, we would do well to linger and not rush too quickly past the cross to the empty tomb. For we have an opportunity to come to terms with the kind of life God calls us to lead. Where might God be challenging you to move away from the fire and find your voice? For example, I am awed by our commitment to feeding hungry people in so many ways. We Lutherans are very good at that. Yet, we are not as good about advocating for the poor, seeking to change the systems that keep people food insecure. Perhaps that is one place we can speak up. God’s blessings on the journey. Amen.

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