For
it is by grace you have been saved, through faith — and this is not from
yourselves, it is the gift of God — not by works, so that no one can boast. (Eph.
2:8-9)
I used to coach T-ball, emphasis on the words “used to.” Teaching little
five-year-olds an organized sport can be rewarding, among other adjectives like
“cute,” “funny” and “frustrating.” Frankly, getting a group of kindergartners
together presents more than just a single challenge. And if your goal is to get
them to act in any sort of organized manner during a practice, then good luck. Having
a common purpose is virtually impossible for five year olds. Obviously, team
concepts elude young minds until they’ve been subjected to a team sport. It
occurred to me, however, that T-ball is the
one sport that’s all about second chances. Unlike baseball, or pretty much any
other team sport, the rules are pretty simple: (1) when it’s your turn at bat, you
can't strike out – you just keep swinging until you hit the ball; (2) an inning
is over after three outs, or after everyone gets a turn at bat, whichever
occurs last; (3) everybody plays the whole game; and (4) when the game's over, everyone
gets a snow cone. Those were the days. But you don’t have to be much older than
a kindergartner to know what it’s like to lose. To come up short. To fail. Just
ask Peter.
Peter, like that athlete on the old Wide World of Sports, enjoyed the thrill
of victory, but he also experienced the agony of defeat. He was a fisherman and
lived with his wife in Capernaum where they shared a house with his
mother-in-law and his brother, Andrew. He and Andrew had their own boat, and
were in the fishing business with a couple of partners named James and John,
Zebedee's sons. The first time Jesus laid eyes on him, he took one look at
Peter and said, "So, you're Simon, the son of John." (John 1:42) And
then Jesus said that from then on he'd call him Cephas, which is Aramaic for Peter, which is Greek for rock, or
pebble. He could stop fishing for fish, Jesus told him. He'd been promoted.
From there on out, people were to be his business, and now he could start
fishing for people.
And Peter certainly experienced the
thrill of victory in this business of being a disciple. For instance, there
were all these half-baked theories about who Jesus was. So, Jesus asked his
disciples straight out: "Who do you say that I am?" Nobody wanted to
stick their neck out and answer that one; nobody except Peter. "You’re the
Christ, the Son of the living God," Peter said, to which Jesus responded
by blessing him, and then saying that upon that very confession Jesus would
build his church. Victory.
But Peter also knew the agony of
defeat. He didn't always say or do the right thing. One time Jesus was talking
about heaven, and Peter wanted to know what sort of special deal he was going
to get since he’d left his business, and had given up everything to follow
Jesus. But Jesus took it easy on him since a “rock” can't help being a little dense
sometimes. And then there was their last supper together. Jesus was explaining
that he would have to be going soon, but Peter didn't quite get it. So, Jesus
explained that he was going where nobody on earth could follow him. Peter
finally seemed to get it, but then he asked Jesus why he couldn't follow him. "I'll
lay down my life for you," Peter said. Then Jesus said something to Peter
that rocked his world: "Listen, Peter, the rooster won't crow until you've
betrayed me three times." And Jesus was right, of course because after Jesus was
arrested, Peter was sitting out there in the courtyard keeping warm by the
fire. Then a girl, and later others, came up to ask him on three separate
occasions if he really wasn't one of Jesus’ disciples. Peter’s response? “What
in God’s name are you talking about? I don’t even know the guy.” Then the old
rooster crowed at the rising sun, and tears began to rain – turning the “rock” into
a mudslide.
Peter knew what it's like to be a
winner. He also knew what it's like to be a loser. But everybody's a winner in
T-ball. Do you know why everyone's a winner in T-ball? Because you don't keep
score. Most of the time, sports are all about no second chances. There are
clear winners and clear losers. There are the ones who start and play most of
the time, and there are the ones who almost never get to play. There are the
ones who get picked first, and there are the ones who’re picked last. Most of
the time, sports are about no second chances. And a lot of us would like to
live in a world where when you go to church you’d never have to hear Christians
confessing their pain, or the sin of anything. The problem is that each of us
has a story. And all of our stories include the truth that we’re guilty, and
that we’ve betrayed our Lord. So if you're keeping score, we’re losing and we won’t
be getting a snow cone. But the thing is, we don't have to let our guilt and
our shame and our failures destroy us. Peter proved that. Peter, of all people.
The disciple with the foot-shaped mouth.
The Sabbath was over. Mary Magdalene
and two other women were going to anoint Jesus' body. So, very early on the
first day of the week, just before sunrise, they were on the way to the tomb.
They were wondering while they walked how they were going to roll the big stone
away from the entrance to the tomb. But when they got there, the stone had
already been rolled away, and an angel was there who told them that if they
were looking for Jesus of Nazareth they’d come to the wrong place. He’d risen.
He wasn't there. And then in Mark 16:7, there’s this great line. The angel
tells the women, "But go, tell his disciples, and Peter, that he is going
before you to Galilee." In other words, “Don't just stand there, ladies. Get
going and tell the disciples – especially Peter – that he’s risen and will meet
you in Galilee.”
You see, Peter didn't let his despair
destroy him. Somehow he kept going. And then we have this great line in Mark’s
gospel. The tomb was empty. Jesus was alive. And the angel tells Mary Magdalene
and the others to go tell the disciples – particularly Peter. It's as if even
the angels were saying: "Be sure to tell Peter that he's not left out.
Tell him that Jesus still wants to see him." No wonder they call it the
gospel of the second chance. Peter betrayed Jesus by something he said, just
like you and I sometimes betray Jesus by the things we say and do – or by
things we don't say and don't do. But Jesus wanted Peter, in particular, to
know that he was alive. Peter got a second chance. Even the angels wanted Peter
to know that it wasn't over. The message was loud and clear: Be sure and tell
Peter that even though he swung and missed, he didn’t strike out. He gets to swing
again. And in less than seven weeks’ time, Peter took another swing. This time,
he hit a grand slam at Pentecost and became one of the leaders of the early
Christian church where 3,000 people were saved on one day alone.
The truth is that we live in a world that
keeps score. And all of us know what it's like to lose. We also know enough
about ourselves – if we're honest – to shudder at the thought of God keeping
score with his great scorecard in the sky. A ground out here, a strikeout
there. So, how’s your game going? Not good, if your game is like mine.
Some time ago, rumor had spread that a
woman was having visions of Jesus. The reports reached a preacher and he
decided to check her out since, in his opinion, there’s a fine line that
separates the real from the lunatic fringe. "Is it true, ma'am, that you’ve
had visions of Jesus?" “Yes," replied the woman. "Well, the next
time you have one of those visions, I want you to ask Jesus to tell you the
sins I confessed last night." The woman was stunned. "Did I hear you
right? You actually want me to ask Jesus to tell me the sins of your
past?" "Exactly. So, please call me if anything happens, alright?"
“Alright,” said the woman.
Ten days later, the woman informed the
preacher of a recent appearance. "Please come," she said. Within the
hour, the preacher arrived. "Now, you just told me over the phone a few
moments ago that you actually had a vision of Jesus, right?” “Yes,” she
replied. “Well, did you do what I asked?" "Yes, I asked Jesus to tell
me the sins you confessed the night before our first visit," she replied. With
that, the preacher leaned forward with anticipation, his eyes wide with
expectancy. "Well, what did Jesus say?" She took his hand, gazed deep
into his eyes and said, “These were Jesus’ exact words: 'I can’t remember.'"
Robert Fulghum, in his book All I Really Need to Know I learned in
Kindergarten, listed some things he learned when he was in kindergarten. Things
like sharing everything, playing fair, not hitting people, not taking things that
aren’t yours, saying you’re sorry when you hurt somebody, and when you go out
into the world, watch out for traffic, hold hands and stick together. So
lately, I’ve been going over what I’d say if I was coaching T-ball again. I
think I’d say stuff like, "Honestly, Johnny, I really don't know the score."
Or, "Come on Katy, keeping swinging until you hit that ball." Maybe
even, "Get out on that field, Evan – everyone gets to play." And, "Don’t
you know that everybody's a winner, Crystal?" And definitely, "Snow
cones for everyone.” But I’m still working on this one, "It's all about grace,
Randy."
And therein lies the problem. You see
it, don’t you? It’s right there. Right there in that last sentence in the paragraph
above this one. The one that says, And
I’m still working on this one, “It’s
all about grace, Randy.” You see it? Well, that’s the problem. Working at
grace isn’t going to get me there. But if that’s the problem, then what’s the
solution? It’s seeing grace as a gift, not as a reward.
You see, working at grace is not going
to get any of us to heaven. But it is grace that will get us working. For it is by grace you have been saved,
through faith – and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God – not by
works, so that no one can boast. (Eph. 2:8-9) Jesus said, “’I tell you
the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you
will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.’” (Matt. 18:3) Kids.
What do kindergartners know, anyway? Well, quite a bit actually.
They know that when you go up to bat, you
can't strike out, and that everyone gets to play – all the time. And the score?
They don’t care since everybody gets a snow cone at the end of the game anyway.
And if you’re a child of God, you can’t strike out, and you’re in the game
until it’s over. More importantly, the score’s inconsequential because Jesus settled
that one a long time ago. So, get in the game. You can’t lose.
Grace,
Randy
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