Warning: This Post Was Manufactured on Equipment Used to Process Religious Products

See, I'm using my new method already!

Yesterday day was Easter (unless you are Eastern Orthodox. If so, and I do know some people that are, please come back next week to read this post) and we had church. I guess that's not really a big surprise, is it? Anyway, we didn't have a sermon, we just had some singing and a few short little things about various people's relationships with Jesus. I wrote one about Peter. No, not Peter Frampton, Peter the disciple. This post contains what I wrote.

But one more quick note of warning: I know I put both logos at the top of this post, but I'm thinking maybe I shouldn't have put either of them there. First, this was a pretty straight reading of Peter from the Gospels, all three synoptics and even John! I'm pretty sure I didn't do enough destruction of the Bible to make the Emergents happy. Second, I didn't just read straight out of the Bible for this, thus I've introduced myself into the story somehow, you know, the dreaded eisegesis. I'm pretty sure that, through using discernment, this will probably be found to be heretical. I'm screwed either way I guess. But on to the thing.

Hi, my name is Peter and I’m a Disciple.

Let’s see. I’d known Jesus for about three years when he was killed. I’d followed him around, learned from him, basically, I’d given my whole life to him. So imagine you’re in my situation. You’ve dedicated your life to serving someone, someone you think is finally going to bring about the Kingdom of God on Earth and free you from the foreign rulers you’ve known your whole life. What could be better, right?

Now, imagine that, instead of starting a revolution, instead of fighting the powers that be, your friend, your teacher, your master quits! He lets himself get betrayed by one of his own, even though he knows it’s coming! He lets it happen! Why would he do that? But it doesn’t matter, you tell yourself, you’ll stay with him to the end. To death if you need to. That’s how I felt, and still feel, about Jesus.

I still remember exactly what we said to each other, that night in the upper room before going to the garden to pray. I said, “though all become deserters because of you, I will never desert you.” And I meant it.

And this was what Jesus said to me, something that hurt me then and still haunts me to this very day, despite what happened later. He said, “Truly I tell you, this very night, before the cock crows, you will deny me three times.” Horrorstruck and fearful, because I knew it could be true, I protested that even if I had to die with him, I would still never deny him.

But guess what. By the next morning, I had done it. I had denied him three times. Twice to servant-girls, and once to some meaningless bystander. I swore that I did not know Jesus. Then, the cock crowed, and I realized what I’d done. To say that I cried is to put it lightly. I don’t know if any of you have ever felt anything like that. I hope not. To know that you hurt the one you love above all others, and for them to know it. For them to know you so well, much better than you will ever know yourself, that they will see it coming. To know that you have failed your one task. To know that you have failed to uphold your promise to the Son of God. Actually, I’m sure that you do all know at least a little of that feeling. We all fail him.

But wait, it gets better.

I won’t go into what went down that horrible day. It’s still too painful. I knew that He said he would rise from the dead, but part of me didn’t believe. The Son of God couldn’t let himself die, could he? But he did die, and I helped kill him. So imagine my surprise, my joy, when, three days later, the two Marys and Joanna came and told us what happened, that the tomb was empty. It’s one of those moments that you can relive over and over and never get sick of, like when you first find out you are going to be a father. There was nothing else I could have done but sprint off to the tomb to see if it really was empty. But I already knew it was.

Then, just a few days later, I had the same reaction, only this time I dove into the water I was so excited to see him! We ate fish, we talked, I reveled in his presence. But after we ate, Jesus pulled me aside. He asked me, “Peter, do you love me.” Well, of course I said yes, of course, you know that I love you. And all he said was, “Feed my lambs.” Then he asked me again, “Peter, do you love me?” I started to feel a little uneasy, because, why would he ask me this again, but I said “Lord, you know everything! You know that I love you!” And he said “tend my sheep.” And then, he asked me a third time. “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” And it all came rushing back, my valiant proclamations of fidelity, “I would die with you!” my denials that He knew were coming, the sense of abject failure came rushing back.

But what did Jesus say? Did he say, “get behind me Satan, I do not know you?” Did he point out my failure and chastise me? No. He said, again, “feed my sheep.” After everything that I had done, he still wanted me. He still wanted me to serve him. He still loved me. It was both an incredible feeling of joy and of awe. It was almost as though I had been dead, and with these words of love and confidence, he had resurrected me too. Not in body, but in spirit. To tell you the truth, I think that’s exactly what it was. That is what he came to do, to help us to die to the world and to ourselves and be resurrected in him and through him to serve others.

That’s the Jesus I know.