April 2023

Reflection

On Tuesday, I learned a friend of mine, Omari, a man in his 40s with a wife and two kids, was moved to hospice because of a recurrence of cancer. Later that evening, he died.  I find myself wrestling with a mix of anger, loss and sadness.  I cried for him and his family repeatedly over the last few days.  And I find myself looking differently at the text (John 12:15-19)  I preached this past Sunday at First Presbyterian Church of Janesville.   The text focuses on Peter’s last conversation with Jesus after the Resurrection and right before Jesus leaves for good.  

15 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” 16 A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” 17 He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep. 18 Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.” 19 (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, “Follow me.”

Omari was one of those friends who you don’t talk to for two years and the second you hop on the phone you feel that connection completely re-energize.  When he first experienced the cancer, we connected regularly. The last time we spoke, his cancer was in remission.  We texted each other in January and February trying to find a time to catch up.  As so often happens, in the busy-ness of  life, we never had that conversation.

And now, only days later, I find myself thinking about Peter’s conversation with Jesus in a completely different way.  Jesus is talking to Peter about taking on the leadership of this movement.  Jesus, who was denied by Peter three times before Jesus was crucified, asks Peter three times, “do you love me?”

Peter answers uncomfortably three times, “You know that I love you.”

In this moment, I cannot stop thinking about how lucky Peter was, no matter how difficult the conversation.

I am jealous of Peter.  Peter had the opportunity  to talk to his dear friend, Jesus, one more time.  Peter got to tell Jesus that he loved him.  I imagine a longer conversation where they shared memories.  They got to laugh. They had the chance to cry.  Peter got to tell Jesus how much he would truly miss him.

In the last two years, I have lost four friends.  All of them at different places in their lives.  All played important roles in my life: my seminary tutor, my organizing colleague, and the father of one of Ben’s friends. Each possessed beautiful  gifts.  I am a better person because of my time with them.  I lost contact with one and was trying to reconnect.  The other two were part of my life but I don’t know if I had the chance to let them know how important they were.  Now, Omari has died.  The world is a bit emptier without him.  My world has been a bit emptier without the other three.

And I think about how lucky Peter was to have that final conversation with Jesus. Peter got to tell Jesus he loved him. Jesus’ words to Peter expressed what I hope we all know.  We are loved.  We matter. We are enough.