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The Rev. Laura Matarazzo
April 22, 2007 -  Third Sunday of Easter

We keep killing each other. It’s one thing that we human beings do consistently…since the time of brothers Cain and Abel, we have taken each other’s lives. We kill each other because we are afraid, or because we disagree; because we want something that someone else has; because we are alienated, outcast, and angry; hurt, sick, demented. 

When I awoke on Wednesday morning and a prayer rose from my heart for all those young people who were killed at Virginia Tech, their parents, their grandparents, brothers and sisters and friends, I was reminded of another campus shooting—one that happened when I was a college student. 

That was in Ohio, at Kent State University; and, there, members of the Ohio National Guard opened fire on students protesting the U.S. invasion of Cambodia; those National Guardsmen killed four Kent State students. To this day, the horror of their deaths is overshadowed for me by the horror of our own government killing its young citizens for publicly demonstrating the freedom for which we stand. 

We keep killing each other. 

I read a statistic about the war in Iraq recently.  For every U.S. troop killed in the war thus far, at least 150 Iraqis have been killed. On Wednesday, 80 peopled were killed in one car-bombing in Baghdad, with dozens more wounded; many of them innocent civilians caught in the violence. 

We keep killing innocents. Or, teaching them to kill. It’s enough to make to anyone lose heart. We all are grieving the senseless violence that has stolen young, innocent, brave, promising lives all over God’s creation. 

We killed Jesus too. Remember? 

And yet he lives, thank God; and he appeared to his grieving disciples. Today’s gospel recounts his third appearance after his resurrection. At his first appearance, to Mary Magdalene in the garden, he told her where he was going—ascending to his Father and ours, to sit at God’s right hand forever. At his second appearance, he declared “peace”—PEACE—among his followers and breathed upon them the Holy Spirit, the indwelling presence of Christ that would sustain them in their faith and empower them in their lives. This third appearance combines a shared meal and a lifetime assignment. Let us carry our heavy hearts and our wounded souls to that beach and partake of our Lord’s loving hospitality.  

If we will gather around that charcoal fire, we will feel the warmth of the flame and the comfort of our Lord’s presence. We are reminded of his love for us and his longing that we live in gathered fellowship one with another. He feeds us, having prepared a meal before our arrival and adding to it our own contributions. He invites the disciples to bring the fish they have caught. Here, God is providing what we need, combining his offering with ours to create life-giving mission in the world. 

And Jesus asks us, “Do you love me?”

We reply, “Yes, Lord, you know we love you. Look, we are gathered here in your name. We have come to your table; we give you thanks and praise.” Before we finish our response, he cuts in: “Feed my lambs.”

Then, he asks again, “Do you love me?”

We reply, “Yes, Lord, you know we love you. Look, we give money to keep this house of worship; we give our time and energy to outreach, we serve on committees, sing in the choir, teach your children…”

“Tend my sheep.”

“Jesus asks, “Harry, Barbara, Joan, David, Lillian, John….do you love me?”

We reply, “Lord, you know everything; you know that we love you.”

“Feed my sheep.” 

Around this circle, Jesus commissions Peter and, by extension, all who would follow him. Our assignment is to feed God’s sheep, to care for God’s creation, to engage in God’s redeeming work.  

Compare our circle with other common gatherings…the semi-circular memorial constructed on a grassy knoll by Virginia Tech students. It is comprised of 33 stones—one each for the victims and the shooter; there, people lay down flowers and hand-written messages of remembrance. Or the gathering of the curious as well as the horrified around the blown-out armored vehicle in a war-torn street where people weep and rage; or the humble gathering around a decorated cross beside the highway, awful evidence of a drunk driver; or the tearful yet proud gathering around the flag-draped coffin in the cemetery…we keep killing each other. 

Earlier this week, I found myself in a different circle, several of us gathered around our own grief, crying into the silence the unanswerable question, “How could this be?” Together we offered our pain and sorrow to God and we prayed for the victims of the massacre. We were not the only ones…all over the country, people were tenderly holding all those gentle souls in prayer, lifting them into the light of God’s grace. All over the world, God’s faithful continually lift victims of violence up to God’s loving countenance for, as a colleague of mine observed this week about all the violence that harms us: “So many people are involved in so many ways, and there isn’t one who is not a child of God, not one to whom we are not called to join ourselves in prayer.” [1]  

Our gathering around the fire at the invitation of the risen Christ yields LIFE. Our assignment—we who would follow the Christ—is to counter the violence and the killing with our life-giving compassion, with our tender and continuous care for God’s creation, with loving companionship of the least of God’s people, and with unceasing prayer. These are times for deep and continuous prayer, my friends. In prayer, we seek for others the new life that Christ’s resurrection promises…life beyond this earth for those who died, and renewed life in this world for those who remain. 

Jesus showed us that life emerges from even the most horrible and tragic and senseless death. 

Last week, I ended my sermon with these words: “as weak as we may be, as wounded as we may be, we, too, can breathe life into this world in his name.” The very next day, the breath of life was shot out of 33 people who did nothing more than live on the same campus as a troubled and desperate youth. Still, STILL, we will stand on Christ’s promise that life in him never ends and by God’s grace and with the power of the Holy Spirit, we will seek to bring that life to others in whatever ways we can. In the name of God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.

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