SOME FOOD FOR THOUGHT

Psalm 23; John 21:1-19

April 26, 2009 – Rev. Jerry Duggins

I was raised in the Lutheran Church – Missouri Synod. My mother saw that I faithfully attended church and Sunday School, so I learned a lot of Bible stories and memorized more than a few verses, King James version of course. My confirmation process lasted two years, Wednesday evenings for an hour and a half, September through May. We learned a lot of Bible in the first year and a lot of theology the second. I’ll confess to having enjoyed it a great deal. Even back then in 7^th and 8^th grade, I was pretty good at “religion.” I didn’t have to write a faith statement, but we did take tests, including a final exam of sorts before the congregation. Mostly, it was just parents, but we’d start off with Bible sword drills. Pastor would say a Bible reference and we’d race to be the first to find it. Then there’d be questions. And the whole evening culminated in reciting from memory portions of Luther’s catechism. Now we knew the questions beforehand along with which portion of the catechism we’d have to recite. It seemed more like an opportunity for parents to be proud of their children; but the whole experience left us all at least knowledgeable about the Bible, if not about the basics of faith.

I still remember how important the idea of baptism was for us Lutherans. We were quite literal about the notion that “baptism saves.” A few years later I began to wonder about this idea when I was exposed to the writings of Soren Kierkegaard, a Danish thinker, who came to criticize the Lutheran Church of Denmark, and all state-sponsored religion. One is not saved, according to Kierkegaard, simply by virtue of being baptized and a member in good standing in the church. He believed that people had become so reliant on the church, that they’d actually forgotten the importance of a practicing faith that was rooted in a relationship to Jesus Christ. The church had removed the necessity of faith simply by baptizing everyone into “salvation.”

Thanks to some acquaintance with Presbyterians, I learned something about John Calvin, and that little mantra, “baptism saves” was replaced by something a little, (only a little) less simplistic, “God saves.” I became quite familiar and conversant in the quite unpopular doctrine of “double predestination.” Not only does God elect some to eternal life, but sends the rest to suffer eternal torment in hell. The logical consistency of this view really appealed to me, but I’ll have to admit to a little difficulty to reconciling it with the idea of a loving God.

Somewhere along my faith journey, I rejected the hell part of this theory and started believing that God elected everyone to salvation. Along the way, I’ve made adjustments to my understanding of the faith on a number of topics.

I’m less of a literalist in my reading of the Bible, but more faithful to its message, I think. I appreciate both its complexity and simplicity and continue to grow in my ability to discover its relevance in my life.

I continue to place social issues into the context of my faith, but I find my views change as my faith deepens. I’ve changed my mind about women in ministry, abortion, homosexuality, evolution and capital punishment.

Some would accuse of me of just having a “liberalizing” tendency but I still prefer much of the traditional language of faith. I believe in the trinity, in Jesus as the Son of God. I continue to like the Apostles Creed and find much food for thought within it. I continue to believe that it possible to have a personal relationship with God through Jesus Christ. My view of the atonement, how the cross saves us, is actually more traditional. Substitutionary atonement, the idea that Jesus acts as my substitute, bearing the penalty for my sin on the cross, is actually more of a Medieval concept. I prefer to see the cross not as a vehicle of punishment but as a demonstration of love, an idea that goes back to Irenaus in the second century.

As we prepare to welcome into membership a new confirmation class, it occurs to me that I’ve thought about a lot of things since that day of my confirmation. Had I written a faith statement, I think I would find a core that held true for me even today, but so much has changed. It’s changed because I’ve met a lot of people since then, read a lot of books, had a lot of experiences. There were friends, teachers, professors, preachers, mentors, supervisors. There were formative events that visibly shaped my thought and life and more subtle happenings that invisibly nurtured me to become who I am today.

I make no claim to perfection, no claim to having a lock on the truth, but the people I’ve met, the places I’ve been, the experiences I’ve had, the prayers I’ve uttered, the thoughts I’ve encountered have all shaped me and will continue to shape me into the future. We have all been fed and nurtured in faith by others. This reality reminds me to adopt a listening posture in life.

Every time I work with the confirmation class on faith statements, I find my own faith nurtured, strengthened, challenged. I hope that you will all take the time to read through their statements, to listen not only to the words, but the heart that you sometimes hear behind the words. I hope that you will give them due consideration as you reflect on your own faith and that you will find in them food for thought. I hope that you will throw your own thoughts into the mix as well, not in a condescending way but in collegial fashion.

Remember that Christian life is all about the food and we all have some to share. Look, here’s Peter about to go back to fishing. He’s already seen Jesus twice since the resurrection, and still he’s not sure what to do. Maybe he’s still grieving his own failure. Maybe he’s thinking about those three denials on the night of Jesus’ arrest. Jesus is alive and he doesn’t know what to do. He can think of nothing better than going back to his old job.

So Jesus meets him where he is, in his hurt. Three times he asks Peter, “Do you love me?” for the three times of his denial. Three times Peter says “yes.” Three times the language of forgiveness is spoken. And three times, Jesus calls Peter out from the paralysis of his guilt, and says, “Feed my sheep.” It’s all about the food. And you can’t feed yourself. You have to feed others. What you have inside of you, you already know. It’s not food for you anymore, It’s food for others. Like Peter, we need to put the mistakes, the failures, the sins behind us. We need to receive God’s forgiveness and move on. You’ve a story to tell and it’s food for thought, food for life for someone.

I want to thank the confirmation class for letting me listen to their thoughts on faith. I’ve felt truly blessed by my time with you, and fed by your words and the heart you let show from time to time. But now I want you to realize that we have finished anything. There is more thinking, maybe writing, certainly more living to do, more growing in faith; but it can only happen if you hear Jesus’ words to Peter for yourself. Hear first the question from Jesus, “Do you love me?” and then the call, “Feed my sheep.” It’s all about the food. Keep sharing with one another some food for thought, food for faith and nurture. Amen.