Jesus asked, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” 
“Yes, Lord, you know I love you. 
“Then tend my sheep.” John 21:16 

...you also were raised with him... Colossians 2:12

Jesus’ resurrection was not the only one to occur that first Easter. Certainly that’s the way it felt to Peter. He had denied his Lord three times even though he had given his solemn word that he would never do so---even if all else did, even if it meant his own death. When he realized what he had done he wept, but he could not take it back. Or could he?

In a way, the resurrected Christ gave him the opportunity. Jesus asked him three times, “Do you love me?” Peter answered three times (as he had denied him three times), “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Then came the words that Peter could scarcely believe:  “Then tend my sheep.” Even though he had failed so miserably, Jesus still entrusted him with the care of his sheep. Peter also had been resurrected. I know how he felt.

The truth is Christ’s resurrection was not the only one to occur that first Easter. As Paul reminds us, we all “were raised with him.” Certainly, we all have failed the Lord numerous times. We have said and done things we wish we could take back. As we look back upon our past with regrets and tears, the risen Christ comes to us and asks us the question which matters most to him, “Do you love me?” We answer, “Yes, Lord, you know that 1 do.” “Then tend my sheep.” 

Jesus lets Peter and us know that we are forgiven. The guilt which had previously filled our hearts is replaced with an even deeper love of him. Our attention is redirected from our own regret to the needs of others in his fold. Our burden is lifted. We come forth from the tomb into Easter morning. Our spirits are light and joyful. We have been raised with him.

Peter had compared himself to others. At the Last Supper, he had declared, “Everyone else may lose faith, but I will not.” Jesus had renewed the comparison in his first questioning of Peter: “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others?”

On an earlier occasion, Jesus had invited another Simon to make a comparison: A certain creditor had two debtors; one owed five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. When they could not pay, he forgave them both. Now which of them will love him more?” Simon answered, “The one, I suppose, to whom he forgave more.” And he said to him, “you have judged rightly.”

Perhaps it was now true that Peter loved Jesus “more than these others,” but it was no longer a prideful comparison but one of grateful humility.

 
©1998 C. David Hess

There was an editorial in the Post Standard recently about the Great Midwestern Think-Off. 
The 972 residents of New York Mills, Minn. were asked to ponder the question: "Does life have meaning and, if so, what is it?"

Four finalists were chosen from the 650 people who submitted 750 word essays on the question. They were to have held a public debate on the topic this past Saturday. The audience was to select the winner.

Last year's question was on the nature of good and evil. The audience couldn't agree on a winner, so a tie was declared.

The editorial writer admitted the difficulty of the question and then told a story of a gathering of friends for dinner in a North Carolina restaurant. The 3 year old daughter of one couple had just recently discovered the magic of language and had become a real jabber jaws. In an attempt to quiet her, her mother turned to her and asked: "Lily, what is the meaning of life.?"

"Something to do," she replied.

The editorial writer commented, "Not bad." I agree.

If I were going to take my own stab at the question, my answer would have something to do with relationships. Life alone would not be life (I think in fact it would be hell). What gives meaning to life is that it is shared with others. I think a clue to this being the real meaning of life is the biblical statement: "God is love." At the heart of the nature of God, and thus of all of existence, is love which requires beings in relationship.

Paul wrote: "For to me life is Christ..." (Philippians 1:21). That which gave his life ultimate meaning was his relationship with Christ (not a bad definition of a Christian).

Life---something to do? Yes, but even more importantly, someone to love.


© C. David Hess

I'm A Skeptic  I really enjoyed attending our denomination's national convocation on evangelism in Washington, D.C. a couple of weeks ago. One of the pleasures of such a conference is the making of new friends. One new acquaintance asked me what I thought my major gifts were. After thinking hard about it, I responded that I thought I had a gift in reaching secular people and those with intellectual doubt about the truth of Christianity. I responded that this was the case because there was a great deal of skepticism in me. Faith has never been easy for me. Thus I can be empathetic with others for whom Christian faith is not easy. But what is faith?

Tony Campolo writes that when his son was a young boy he once defined faith as "believing what you know isn't true." I can see how easy it is for many to arrive at that definition of faith, but faith for me has never been that. I would rather define faith as believing in that which you think really is true though you cannot absolutely prove it.

As long as human knowledge is partial (and I believe that will always be the case, at least on this side of death) faith is necessary (for the atheist as well as the Christian).

I have always been struck by the words of Harry Emerson Fosdick quoted by John Claypool when he was trying to continue with his life after he had learned that his 8 year old daughter, Laura Lue, had leukemia (she later died of it): "A man can put off making up his mind, but he can't put off making up his life."

He was pointing out the truth that we cannot refuse to live until all our questions are answered. Answers will come only by and through our living (and Christians believe at the end of our living). The Apostle Paul was right: "For we walk by faith, not by sight."

© C. David Hess

I really believe that the old saying, "labels are libels" is true, but that does not stop me or others from using them.

When I first moved here I described myself to Al Ford (for a newspaper article he was writing) as "a fundamentalist with a liberal veneer." One of our members told me recently that she thought I had it backwards. I am actually a liberal with a fundamentalist veneer.

I don't really mind wearing either label as long as I can define the terms. There are all kinds of both liberals and fundamentalists. The biblical scholar who approaches scripture with the unquestioned presupposition that the miraculous cannot and does not ever occur is just as much a fundamentalist as anybody else. I have known some pretty close minded "liberals" too (a supposed contradiction in terms).

Another label that I have been trying on myself lately is "raging moderate." I say "raging" to make it clear that I am a moderate out of conviction. Moderates generally are suspected of having no or very lightly held convictions or of being lukewarm. I'm a hot moderate.

I have become even more comfortable with this choice of personal label after reading the confession of M. Scott Peck in his book, Further Along the Road Less Traveled: "I never thought I would be a middle-of-the-road anything, and here I've found myself a middle-of-the-road Christian. And as bad as that might sound, it is good, I've decided. It is not fence-sitting. It is a path of tension."

Often (but not always--we moderates are fond of qualifications) those at the poles of a particular debate (e.g. pacifism vs. militarism, pro-choice vs. pro-life) wish to avoid tension (at least the inner variety). Thus they often try to make things simpler than they in fact are. We "raging moderates" embrace the path of tension, as uncomfortable as it is, because we recognize that many of the issues we face are too complex for simple formulation, even for the application of labels.


© C. David Hess