We Can Do What Jesus Asks of Us
by Dr. Thomas Boone
Central Presbyterian Church, April 22, 2007
John 21:1-19; Amos 9:11-15

In a letter to the Christians at Corinth, Paul wrote that the gospel is completely foolish to the world (1Cor 1:18). He said it’s foolish because we believe that God healed our wounded spiritual condition by enduring capital punishment as a common criminal. Paul lived in a society that claimed to know so much about the human condition, and maybe you’ll notice some parallels to us. In Greek culture, knowledge had become the means by which people could evolve into an elevated state of being with higher virtues. People discussed things such as interest and trade, societies waged war and had invented rules to govern fair warfare. Although they hadn’t explored space, Rome’s technology was without rival. Roads had speed bumps and there were Laundromats. There were criminals and courts, and students and libraries. In Paul’s society, primitive people needed enlightenment. Their’s, like ours, was a civilized society by every measure. Their’s, like ours, couldn’t conceive of a God who’d save humanity from the punishment of sin because they, like us, thought they themselves could do it all.

This week the news has provided us with a depressing display of how dismal humans are at solving their own problems, and a stark reminder to me of how much we need Jesus. If someone expresses anger to the point of calling his 11-year old daughter a pig, we send him to rehab. If someone abuses a child, we send that person into the penal system for reform even though it has a dismal history of failure in reforming sexual predators. If someone murders thirty-two people on a college campus, we turn to the psychologists for an answer as to why he would do such a thing. If we see a twelve year old Taliban boy wield a butcher’s knife and proceed to cut off a grown man’s head to display to the world, let’s blame foreign policy. These days we’ll do anything to avoid what’s staring at us straight in the face: we’re in desperate need of redemption because we live in a world that is completely fallen and broken, there is vile evil in it, and we’re incapable of making it any better on our own.

When it comes to realizing how dependent we are upon God to redeem us from our fallen nature I’d rather talk to a recovering alcoholic than almost anyone else. The 12-step program tells people who struggle with co-dependency that they’re powerless against their addiction without a higher power. The result is a balanced humility, and most every recovering alcoholic I know possesses a keen awareness of his or her own frail state, how powerful God is, and how important it is to lean on God rather than themselves when it comes to facing their greatest challenges. I don’t know how many of you have gone through this process, but to those who have thank you from the bottom of my heart. Thank you, because you’ve taught me much about humility in the face of unrelenting temptation and to hope that because I have Jesus I can let go of what tries to destroy me, and lean on Him to do so.

I’ve come to believe that anger is one of our greatest challenges. Psychologists say that anger’s a secondary emotion, and its genesis is fear. I don’t know about all that. What I do know is that we’ve seen a lot of anger this week, and we’ve witnessed the typical responses to it. I wonder how many sermons will be dealing with the events of the past week, helping people understand them all. I wonder how many sermons will tackle the timeless questions of “Where was God in all this?” or “Why would a good God let these things happen?” I wonder how many sermons will ignore these events and proceed as if nothing had happened, fearful to unlock the can of worms.

I don’t know the answer to those questions, but I do know that John 21 and Amos 14 each affirm one central truth about our lives as God’s children and that’s what I’m going to preach on. The world often expresses itself in angry ways. Volatile symptoms of anger were displayed to us in the form of mass shootings, a beheading, and an actor’s tirade against his daughter, not to mention the mother’s decision to broadcast it to the media so that each of us could hear it. The gospel, though, expresses itself in terms of love. Rather than shoot, behead, and yell to get even, scripture tells us to reconcile and repair the brokenness. Anger leads to death, as we saw this week, and it destroys anything that lies in its path. The gospel, however, heals and nurtures life. Where the world says kill and get even, Jesus says love and feed my sheep. Where the world says we’re right to be angry, Amos says look at our own faults and get things right with God.

Jesus asked Peter three times “Do you love me?” Some people make a lot about the two different words used for love in this passage. But, the main thing is that the three times Jesus asks this of Peter are reversals of the three times that Peter denied knowing Jesus before he died. Three times Peter denied knowing Jesus; three times Peter had to say “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus never rebuked Peter for denying him in the face of imminent danger. Rather, Jesus gave Peter a second chance. He redeemed him from his guilt, and then Jesus charged Peter to take the same message of redemption to other people. “Feed my sheep,” he said. To love Jesus is to help people realize that there’s no redemption from the evil in the world and from sin unless we lean on Jesus.

That message is equally true in the Old Testament, although it comes to us in a different way. Like us, the Israelites had a long history of disappointing God. God had given them every opportunity to turn their hearts toward the pursuit of righteousness, but at every turn they wouldn’t do it. They couldn’t escape their own condition, not matter how many of God’s laws they tried to obey, no matter how many sacrifices they made, and no matter how often they went to the Temple. Through Amos God told the Israelites that He didn’t want them to do all that. He just wanted them to come to Him with a humble heart and admit that they couldn’t do things the right way without Him in charge. To do so would result in restoration and life.

Anger contrasted with love. Destruction contrasted with restoration. Getting even contrasted with reconciliation. I’m no longer disappointed when I see horrible things happen in the world, or when I feel the bitter sting of rage laid against me for one reason or another. That’s the way that the world works because there’s evil in it. In Job, who is it that roams to and fro on the earth and ends up wreaking havoc in Job’s life? Satan, of course. In John who is it who’s called “the ruler of this world” and ends up leading the persecution against Jesus’ disciples? Satan, of course. In Revelation, who is called the grand deceiver of the world? Satan, of course. If we believe what the Bible says, evil exists in this world and it’s beyond our own ability to suppress. The evil one rules this world with deception and destruction. His goal is nothing short of the destruction of all things God has created. He’ll convince us he doesn’t exist. He’ll shatter our hopes and laugh when we end up blaming God for it. He’ll wreak havoc and sit amused as we run around trying to find reasons in ourselves for his handiwork of destruction.

The author of Ephesians nailed it on the head. He wrote, “For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places” (Eph. 6:12). I think he’d seen a lot of what we’ve seen this week, and come to the conclusion that without God on our side we’re helpless against the evil that seeks to destroy us.

What’s trying to destroy you? Maybe you have a boss who micromanages all you do, and puts a wedge between you and coworkers to keep things off balance and keep him in power. Maybe you have a ex-spouse who takes delight in wreaking havoc in your life as you try to live again. Maybe you have a past sin that just won’t let you go of its grip, try as you might to resist it. Maybe you struggle with a sharp tongue or bitter spirit that causes no one to want to be around you. It may not be an angry kid’s gun that destroys your world, but if you examine your life closely enough each of you can identify something that wants to take you down the path of self-destruction and hopes you die rather than live.

The good news that we cling to in all this isn’t that we can overcome. Nor is it that we can evolve or medicate it away. No, the good news in all this is that we have a message to bear to the world. Against the evil that exists in this world, Jesus stands as the fierce guardian of restoration. There’s no such thing as a heart that’s too broken for Jesus to repair, and it’s our job to bring that person to Jesus. There’s no such thing as a bridge too destroyed for Jesus to rebuild, and it’s our job to model the love that restores relationships. There’s no such thing as anger that’s too deep for Jesus to heal it, and it’s our job to let go of the anger first in our own lives and then to show others the way.

I speak of what I know. The last 10 years of my life have been anything but a beautiful harmony of peace and love. 11 years ago I lived in Summit, NJ, serving a large church as an Associate Pastor. I was doing very well, but my marriage was a wreck. Nine years ago I moved to Chicago for my Ph.D. My wife and I separated, but we told no one. She stayed in NJ and I moved with Carrie to Chicago. Three months later we decided to try the marriage again, she moved to IL and for a year we went to marriage counseling. That didn’t work. We had made up our minds that our past wounds were too much to overcome. Eight years ago my wife gave me an ultimatum to stop my academic work and never do ministry again, or else she would divorce me. My choice should be obvious to you. So, 8 years ago I was alone, broken, living in the shame of having the only divorce in my family. Living in an upside down world, I made upside down choices. When chaos reigns, nothing makes sense anymore, and I was accumulating a debt of anger whose dividends stockpiled year after year. Two years ago my world was beginning to get straightened out again, when the bottom fell out. My daughter’s reintroduction to my life full time was something I would’ve taken gladly except under the circumstances of pain that caused it. A debt of anger became a tear of rage in my universe. In the past two years I’ve been hospitalized, treated by therapy, taken medication for depression and sleep deprivation, and left a good job. Anger was trying to destroy me, and it came very close to doing so.

Yet, thanks be to God, two months ago I stood before you a healed man. During the 9 months between Spring Hill and Central God reached into my heart and healed me of the anger that was destroying me. I’ve been able to let go of the past in ways that are miraculous, and the life I have right now is immeasurably full, just as God promised Amos. I can stand and lead you because I’m not bound by anger anymore.

What did it? I finally believed in my heart what I’ve said for years: God alone is my strength and on Jesus alone do I rely that I may live. God in His goodness allowed me to face all these things so that I can stand before you now, telling you that God is sufficient to do what you’re not been able to do. My wounds and God’s work in me to heal them were for you, so I share them without inhibition as a brother. Anger was trying to destroy me. What’s trying to destroy you? We’ve seen the way the world works this week and we’ve seen the destruction that results. Jesus extends his hand to us and asks us to follow him by letting go of whatever it is that’s destroying us so that we can live again and breathe in deeply the joy of His salvation. Only Jesus can redeem us from what is trying to destroy us. We are beloved and we are forgiven, so we can let “it” go to God, and get on with the business of showing the world how good the good news really is. Hallelujah. Amen.