“You Can Shoot Me if You Want”
Dr. Jim Denison
Jeremiah Neitz is a former football player who dropped out of high school, moved out of his parents’ home at age 18, and fell in with, to use his word, “gangstas.” He got his girlfriend pregnant and asked her to move in with him. Convictions on charges of theft and assault landed him on probation. Then he decided to get back in touch with God, so he called his former youth minister at South Wayside Baptist Church in Fort Worth.
He was sitting in the back of the auditorium at Wedgwood Baptist Church on September 15 as part of a youth rally, when Larry Gene Ashbrook entered and began shooting. Jeremiah said to Ashbrook, “What you need is Jesus Christ in your life.” Then he stood to his feet and walked to Ashbrook, who leveled his gun at Jeremiah’s head. Jeremiah said, “Sir, you can shoot me if you want. I know where I’m going—I’m going to heaven.”
Ashbrook looked at Jeremiah, stopped shooting, and killed himself instead.
Our church’s history and heritage prove that God has a plan and purpose for us. Now, how can we be as visionary as our founders? Can God use every one of us, no matter who we are or what we’ve done? Let’s find the answer, and see why it matters so much to your life today.
A breakfast which changed the world
Jesus has been raised from the dead, and now comes for Peter and his other disciples who were fishing on the Sea of Galilee. He makes them breakfast, for he knows they will be hungry. Just as he revealed himself to the Emmaus disciples at dinner (Luke 24:29-32), here he meets them at breakfast. God wants to meet with us, to relate to us, wherever we are.
Now he addresses his wayward disciple, the man who denied him three times.
“Simon, son of John,” he calls him. Jesus had nicknamed him Peter, which means “rock,” but now he uses his given name Simon, which means “sand.” For this is what he has been. His behavior has not lived up to his name.
A deserter named Alexander was brought before Alexander the Great, who thundered at him, “Change your behavior or change your name!”
Jesus has only one question for him: “Do you love me?”
Note that Jesus doesn’t ask Peter if he is sorry for what he did, or if he will promise never to do it again; he doesn’t ask for obedience, service, or vows, because he knows that when our hearts are given to him everything else follows as well. We serve Jesus, and obey him, and know about him—do we love him?
Jesus asks him three times, because Peter had denied him three times; thus Peter was hurt the third time he asked. But this gave Peter opportunity for public recommitment to Jesus.
“Do you love me more than these?” Jesus asks.
Do we love Jesus more than we love our friends? More than our fishing boats and nets? More than anything? Will we pay any price to love and follow Jesus?
When Peter says that he will, Jesus responds with two commitments:
“Feed my sheep,” he commissions him. They are his sheep, not Peter’s. His job is to feed and shepherd them—to reach out to the people Jesus loves, which is every person you know. People matter to God, and now they will matter to Peter. And they did—he became the preacher of Pentecost, wrote two books of the Bible, and helped lead the entire Christian movement. “Feed my sheep”—love my people.
And bear my cross. When old, Peter would “stretch out his hands” on the cross and die. Eusebius (d. 340) says that he was crucified upside down, at his own request (Ecclesiastical History III.1.2). Glorify God in life and death.
So Jesus’ ultimate call is clear: “follow me” (v. 19).
I must know Jesus before I can introduce him to you. Only that which happens to me can happen through me.
Authenticity and passion are the keys to ministry today. Follow Jesus, and help the people we know follow him. This is Jesus’ call to Peter, and to us.
Peter before breakfast
Now, where are you in our story? Every person in this sanctuary is either Peter before breakfast, or Peter after breakfast. Perhaps you’re where Peter was before his breakfast with Jesus. Maybe your life seems to have little real direction or significance, or perhaps you’ve experienced enough failure to wonder if you’ll ever really succeed in life.
Well, join the crowd.
We are lonely people. Mother Teresa said that loneliness is the greatest epidemic in the Western world. Look around, and you’ll see that she was right.
Surgeon General David Satcher recently released evidence that suicide is the eighth leading cause of death in the US. It claimed 30,000 lives in 1997, compared with fewer than 19,000 homicides. Since 1980 the suicide rate has doubled among children ages 10-14.
People are flocking to support groups, primarily along gender lines. They will apparently pay any amount of money to find someone who cares about them.
Even our families have lost a sense of community. Author Mary Pipher spoke recently at SMU on this subject. Dr. Pipher pointed out the fact that today we get our stories from boxes—television, computers, and stereos—not from each other. We only know the stories of make-believe people, so that violence, substance abuse, and extramarital sex are now the norms.
We are lonely people. We need a community which cares.
We are displaced people. When my grandfather entered the work force, he could anticipate changing employers three times on average during his career. Those entering the work force today will change their careers seven times. We don’t know who we are.
The Wall Street Journal reported this week that nearly two thirds of the companies surveyed employ “virtual expatriots”—people who live in one country but work in another, using technological communication. Their number is up 44% in two years. People who don’t really know where they are.