1 Lent
John 13:36-38; 18:10-18, 25-27
We all wonder how we will react in a crisis, or a character defining moment. When I was younger and the second world war was not quite such a distant memory, I recall many conversations in which people confidently proclaimed that if they were in Germany in the 30’s and early 40’s they would have stood up for the Jews. They would have hidden Jews, or helped them get out of the country, or even publicly protested. History, of course, tells us that the majority will go silent in order that we, too, do not attract the ire of those filled with hate.
Whenever there is a shark attack or a swimmer in trouble and we hear of a single person who jumps in the water to help, we like to imagine that in such a circumstance, that is what we would, ignoring the fact that the overwhelming majority stood on the shore watching, fearful for their own safety.
We admire those who take a stand, or take a risk to help someone in need. And we all like to think that is what we might do in similar situations. Most of us, thankfully, never have the opportunity to find out.
Peter, the leader of Jesus’ inner circle of disciples, felt certain that he would choose fight over flight in a dangerous situation. So confident was he, in fact, that when Jesus indicated that life-threatening danger was upon him, and that he was about to follow a path that would lead to death, Peter spoke up and vowed that he would follow him, even if it meant his own death. We might look upon this as another example of Peter speaking too quickly or too confidently, but he was the only one who spoke at all. And Jesus tells him quite bluntly that when things got really difficult and Peter felt genuine fear for his life, not only would he not go to the death for Jesus, but he would deny that he even knew him.
Peter must have been devasted to hear these words, and even more determined to stand by Jesus, whatever the cost. Perhaps that is why, later that night, when Jesus and his disciples leave the relative safety of the upper room they had rented and head to the Mount of Olives, across the Kidron Valley, to pray, Peter armed himself with a sword. None of the others had thought to do that, even though they had heard the same dire warnings of trouble to come.
And trouble did indeed come. Almost immediately upon entering the garden, or what today we would call a public park, a group of armed men arrive, guided by Judas, to arrest Jesus.
And Peter? Well, Peter stood firm. More than that, he threw himself into the breach against overwhelming odds. He drew his sword and cut off the right ear of one of the armed servants of the high priest, a man, we are told, who was named Malchus.
Now, we need to pause a moment to consider what happened here. Just how does someone cut off another’s ear? Did Peter ask Malchus to hold still while he grabbed his ear and sliced it off? Unlikely.
The most likely explanation is that Peter was not trying to cut off Malchus’ ear at all. He was trying to take off his head. He drew his sword and swung it wildly at the nearest armed man. Malchus leaned hard to his left, and the sword missed his neck but took off his ear. Peter’s was a desperate act. He was ready to fight to the death. He had passed the test. He had not run off. He was willing to die for Jesus.
Jesus then steps in and orders Peter to put his sword away. And we learn from Lukes’ Gospel that Jesus says to Peter, ‘enough of this.’ Then touches the man’s ear and heals him. As an interesting aside, this helps explain why we know the man’s name. The Gospel writers seldom give a name, especially of such a bit player as the high priest’s servant, unless they were well known to the early Christian community for whom the gospels were written. Malchus, having been the last person healed by Jesus during his earthly ministry, would have begun asking questions about who Jesus was. And it seems he eventually came to follow Jesus – and to sit under the leadership and ministry in Jerusalem of Peter, who had once tried to kill him. We can imagine that this would have become a well-known story.
But back to Peter. He had not turned and run in the face of danger. And now, when most of the other disciples fled, he and another disciple, whom we presume to be John, follow Jesus to the high priest’s residence to see what happens. Given that their teacher has just been arrested and is being charged with sedition and who knows what other trumped up charges, this is a very brave act on their part.
But once the adrenaline of the moment has passed, once Peter finds himself, unbelievably, inside the courtyard of the high priest, sitting by a fire to keep warn while he waits to find out what will happen, the full realization of the danger of the situation, and his own folly in trying to kill one of the high priest’s men, begins to dawn. And it is in this moment that Peter, who had acted with great courage up to this point, is put to the test.
Three times Peter is confronted with being one of Jesus’ followers. And each time the stakes are raised.
The first time would have been the easiest for him to stand up and admit that he was one of Jesus’ disciples. It was, after all, only the woman who was letting people through the gate, who asks him. And she is not suggesting that he was the leader of the disciples, or the one who had used a sword against the high priest’s men. We learn from the other gospels that she had simply noticed Peter’s Galilean accent. But it was enough to provoke panic in Peter, a panic he had not felt earlier. And he denies being one of Jesus disciples.
Next, Peter, getting away from the woman who had spotted his accent, goes to a fire where others are keeping warm. Once there he notices that they are the high priest’s men. Some he would have recognized from the arrest of Jesus earlier that night. He now begins to feel panic. They also ask him whether he is one of Jesus’ followers. Again, he denies it. Now he was really sweating it. The panic is rising further within him. Then he is confronted again, this time by a relative of Malchus, whose ear he had just severed in a botched attempt to decapitate the man. Just to make the context clear, Peter had attacked an armed officer of the high priest with a sword and wounded him. A capital offense. He has been recognized not just as a Galilean, not just as a disciple of Jesus, but now as that man who is wanted for armed insurrection. The final question has raised the stakes considerably. It is not simply, are you a follower of Jesus? Or even, aren’t you one of his disciples, who was with him when he was arrested? But, ‘Aren’t you the man who took up a sword to attack one of us?’ Peter denies vigorously that he is that man. He denies that he knows Jesus at all.
And then the cock crows.
And Peter remembers what Jesus had said.
But what is the point of this story? For the full implications of this three-fold denial of Jesus we will have to wait for the story’s sequel, when Jesus and Peter speak again after the resurrection, and Jesus presses Peter, three times, to confirm whether he really loves him.
One might think that this is the end of the story for Peter. He had denied Jesus three times in quick succession. He has gone from brave warrior to wanting to run away and hide. If he were in a modern reality show competition, he would be eliminated. Next contestant, please.
But that is not how God works. Peter’s failure was not the end of his story of discipleship. In many ways it is the beginning. Peter had to learn that he couldn’t do it on his own. He needed to be aware of his shortcomings and faults. And he needed to understand that none of this disqualified him from Jesus’ love and from serving him.
Like Peter, we all fall short. We fall short of God’s glory (Romans) and we fall short even of our own expectations. Most of us would not have made it as far as Peter did before cracking under the pressure.
Peter actually was willing to die fighting physically to save Jesus. He took the risk of going the high priest’s house when all but one of the others fled. I don’t think I would have had the courage to do any of those things.
For many this story recalls Peter attempting to walk on water. He lost sight of Jesus and began to sink and needed to be rescued. And we say, ‘Well, that’s Peter, always overestimating himself.’ But he was the only one of the disciples to attempt to come to Jesus across the waves.
So Peter was anything but a coward. He showed courage in so many ways. But he had his limits, and needed to learn to rely on Jesus, and Jesus alone.
And that’s the bit of the story that I take heart from. That someone as courageous and committed as Peter could still fail – and that Jesus continues to love him and continues to have a plan for him.
We all have limitations. We all fall short. We all have our moments of letting Jesus down. We achieve so much less than we had hoped to achieve. But none of that means that God is finished with us. Jesus picks us up again, builds on our weaknesses, and continues to love us and use us to build his kingdom.
Amen.
Pastor Mark Worthing.