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CHAPTER XVII You Know That I Love You
Breakfast had been like a feast for hungry fishermen exhausted from lack of sleep.
Our conversation had been light, perhaps even a bit foolish. We were all basking in the moment, the pleasure of being around a campfire with Jesus again. This was, after all, how we had spent most of the past years. None of us spoke of the crucifixion. None of us cared to re-live that searing event in our thoughts. At length, Jesus turned to Simon Peter and said, "Come, Simon, let us walk together." Several of us, needing to stretch our legs a bit followed at a respectable distance, but close enough to catch much of the conversation. As they walked, Jesus picked up a small stick that had fallen from a tree. Then he said to Peter, "Simon, do you believe you love me more than the rest of these men?"
I never quite understood why Jesus singled Peter out like this. Perhaps he wanted the rest of us to know the esteem in which he held him and to prepare him to lead. Whatever the reason, it would later give us confidence in Peter and his leadership and purpose.
As Jesus asked his question, he had chosen the most common word for love, a word used by everyone who spoke of love, a word that carried with it the idea of energy; love that caused one to act.
Peter responded, "Lord, I feel more love for you than I can begin to express." Given Peter's history and personality, it did not surprise me that he chose a more passionate word to express his love, a more obscure word, one that captured feeling and emotion. He said it quietly, flatly, as though it was the most natural and obvious thing in the world.
Why would he ask me this? "Oh Lord, you already know that I love you with all my heart!" No one could love him more than I love him. Surely he knows that!
Jesus said, "Then, Simon, I want you to feed my lambs."
Lambs? thought Peter. "I am the good Shepherd," he once said. "Those who hear my voice . . ." Peter was questioning, lost in thought. What could he mean? What is he asking of me? The fisherman was perplexed.
Again Jesus said, "Simon, are you sure you truly love me?" Again, Jesus chose the more common word.
"Yes, Lord, you know that my heart is yours." Of course, he knows this! And again, Peter chose the more passionate word.
Jesus said simply, "Then I want you to care for the sheep as well."
"If I understand your meaning, Lord, you know that I will! Why ask me these questions of love? Why tear me apart? Why address me with these concerns and not the others?" "Who am I, and what is my house that you have brought me . . . ?"
Jesus knew that in his absence Peter would emerge as our leader; he intended to charge Peter with the responsibility of caring for those who would follow him. That is why he asked, "Do you love me more than these?" A strong leader must love intensely. Leaders who are afraid to love and be loved are mere manipulators. It is possible to treat people nicely and charitably and go through the motions about it. Very much like giving of one's funds to a worthy cause. This fulfills the meaning of the word Jesus was using. But Jesus wanted more from Peter. He wanted the kind of emotional intensity from which the call to action arises, and engenders commitment to that cause. That is precisely what he got.
The third time Jesus used Peter's word, "Simon, do you really feel love for me?" Peter halted in his tracks, a pained but intense expression on his face. He was hurt because Jesus asked him what amounted to the same question three times.
Simon wanted to take the Lord by his robes and shake him. Had this scene taken place a few months ago, he might have done exactly that. Instead, he said quietly but with deep passion, "Lord, you know all things; you already know how deeply I feel for you. Surely, it comes as no surprise to you that I love you with every fiber of my being."
Jesus laughed, easing Peter's embarrassment, "Then you will do well, Simon, son of Jonas. You will, indeed, feed my flock!"
Feed his lambs? Feed his sheep? Feed his flock? What could he mean? Three times he asks me of my love; three times to care for his people. On two separate occasions, I denied him three times, yet he honors me; yet he chooses to use me! And what does he find so amusing?
Then he said to Peter, "But be of great courage, my big friend. As you have followed me in life, so you will follow me in death!" With the stick he held in his hand he drew two intersecting lines in the sand--an inverted cross. I am certain Simon hadn't the slightest notion of what Jesus was trying to tell him because, unfazed, he turned and saw John, myself and others following them. Pointing to John, Peter asked, "Lord, what about him?" We must understand what prompted this question. John thought of himself as the disciple whom Jesus loved. If this were true, as some us thought it might have been, then what Jesus was asking of Peter should have been directed at John. "John? What do you mean, 'what about him?'" Without waiting for Peter to speak he said, "What I have said to you does not concern John. If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? Your concern must be for yourself and what I am asking of you. Stay close to me, Peter." The fisherman seemed disquieted for a moment but, then reassured, determined. "And by doing so, you will, indeed, honor me and you will glorify the Father." It was a powerful moment, a moment of passion, of purpose and clarification. After this, Peter became our leader. That isn't to say that his leadership was always wise or even good. Peter's personality never really changed. He spent his life "bumping his head" and "stabbing his foot with his spear." But we loved him. We accepted and affirmed his leadership because his simple, uncomplicated heart was with the Lord and with us. Jesus had chosen well. And then he was gone. Jesus had once again evaporated from our presence. We were not sure if we would ever see him again. John wrote about this in his own book. You must understand that what John wrote about these events is the truth. I know. I witnessed them for myself.
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