Peter's Story: A Maundy Thursday Narrative

The charcoal fire glowed
as it threw its warmth
against the crisp cold
of the early dawn.
It glowed a deep gold-red
radiating out
yet drawing Peter’s eyes in,
sucking them in
consuming them
and filling them
with tumultuous memories.

Staring deeply
into the embers
Peter tried to trace
the events of the night.
It seemed only moments ago
that the other disciple
had brought him inside.
The woman
who had barred his way
asked as he passed by,
“You are not also
one of this man’s disciples,
are you?”
The red glow of the fire
hid Peter’s shame
as he recalled the question
and his answer.
How quickly was he ready
to deny his friend, his master?
“I am not.”
He had replied.

“I am not.”

How could I not?
Peter thought
As his mind drifted back
to the day
that Andrew had come to him
so excited,
“I have found the Messiah,
come and see?”
Of course Peter had followed.
Back then he was known as Simon
but in that first encounter
something strange occurred.
Jesus had looked at Simon
and said,
“You are Simon Son of John.
You are to be called
Cephas,
which means Peter.”
Simon had known
in this moment
that Jesus in some strange way
had chosen him.

No longer Simon but Peter
he had followed Jesus
and he had followed so closely.
Days of walking
through the countryside,
from village to village.
Teaching,
healing,
baptising,
trying to make sense
of the Master’s words and actions.
The confrontations
with the Pharisees and Scribes always there,
a danger to everyone.
Peter had thought
he would have followed Jesus anywhere,
but the glowing embers spoke of his betrayal.

It was good
that he was alone now
with his shame.
After the other disciple
had convinced the woman to let him in
he had stood by the fire
with some of police and a few slaves,
waiting, waiting
not really knowing what for,
just
waiting.
The others had been speaking among themselves
and then one noticed Peter’s presence
and stared long and hard.

“You are no also one of his disciples
are you?”
“I am not.”
The lie came so easily.
“I am not.”
Peter’s mind drifted back
into the charcoal dreaming.
It was only hours ago
that they had reclined around the table
sharing the meal together.

Jesus was teaching them as always. Then
in a moment of perversity
Jesus had shed his cloak
and taken a bowl and water
to wash the disciples’ feet.
Only the lowest slave would have been asked to do such a thing.
Peter had thought he had gone mad
and seeing his Master tried to refuse.
But Jesus had told him
that he did not understand.
How often had he not understood what Jesus was up to?
“You do not know what I am doing,
but later you will understand.”
Still, Peter tried to deny Jesus,
“You will never wash my feet.” He had asserted.

Then those words,
“Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”
“Unless I wash you, you have no share with me.”
Peter recalled his response,
was he pushing the point,
“well what about my hands and my head.”
Peter had not understood
and his words had betrayed him again.
Jesus rebuked him, then
“You are clean but not all of you.”
Would Peter ever understand?
Peter had travelled with Jesus so far
and for so long and still he was confounded.

The night had been full of confusion.
Voices,
voices in the dark.
Then burning torches
and soldiers
and priests
and Judas.
People milling and pushing
In the flickering light.

“Whom are you looking for?”
Jesus words had rung like a command.
“Jesus of Nazareth.”
They had said.
There was no denial
just those simple words
“I am he.”

Silence had descended on the crowd,
many fell to their knees.
“Whom are you looking for?”
Jesus asked again
and again the words, “Jesus of Nazareth.”
Peter had thought
surely that was Judas beside him,
he will do something.
But Jesus confirmed his identity a second time,
“I have told you that I am he.
So if you are looking for me let these others go.”

Peter’s mind had raced
and fear and dread overtook him.
Peter knew he had to do something
they were going to take him away.
They were going to take Jesus.

In Peter’s mind he replayed the scene again and again.
It was as if someone else had drawn the sword
As if someone else had lashed out.
Blood had splattered
and then poured freely from where the slave’s ear had been.
Malchus: he was only a slave,
why him, he was innocent.
The blood seeped into Peter’s vision
and mingled with the glow of coals in the fire.

Peter shut his eyes against the red condemning light.
But through the darkness
he could still see the face of Malchus’ cousin at the fire.
“You are no also one of his disciples are you?”
“I am not.”

“I am not.” “I am not.” “I am not.”
Thrice condemned the cock had crowed
and the words had coming flooding back.
“Lord, why can I not follow you now?
I will lay down my life for you.”

Jesus words were fulfilled
“Will you lay down your life for me?
Very truly, I tell you,
before the cock crows,
you will have denied me three times.”

“I am not.” “I am not.” “I am not.”

Thrice denied, thrice condemned.
The red glow of goals could not warm the cold in Peter’s heart
And still the memories came.

He had heard Jesus
that day when the Greeks had come seeking Jesus.
Andrew and Philip had come with a message
these Greeks want to see you
Jesus had started speaking of his death.
On that day he had said,
“Whoever serves me must follow me,
and where I am,
there will my servant be also.”

Peter’s mind raced.
They had all failed him,
each and everyone one.
He had failed him.
Jesus was alone now.
No friends to comfort,
no disciples to share the pain.
Alone
Jesus was being tortured
and all of those words that Jesus had spoken
were beginning to fall into place.
Jesus was to be put to death.
Betrayed and deserted
by even his closest followers.
There was nothing to be done now,
just mourn.
The red coals,
The deep blood red coals
screamed of Jesus fate.
More blood would be spilled on this day.
Peter wondered what it all meant.
There was little sense in anything any more.
Numb and confused,
condemned by his denial,
Peter rose and walked away
aimlessly, hopelessly
away from the dying coals.

Silence

In the days to come
Peter’s eyes would be opened again
as Jesus drew him back in.
Forgiven, restored, renewed
Thrice Peter had denied his Lord,
Thrice he had hidden
Yet thrice on a beach
Jesus would ask his friend
do you love me,
and Peter would once again
bask in the warmth of Jesus love and say,
“Master, you know that I do.”
“Master, you know that I do.”
“Master, you know that I do.”

By Peter Lockhart.
You are welcome to use this as a worship resource.

Seven Deadly Sins: Gluttony

In the interactions Jesus has with people there is a constant issue of bringing light into dark situations, exposing that which may be hidden or possibly simply misunderstood. In exposing this darkness, things that we might classify as sin, Jesus invitation is to live a life transformed by God's love. Sin is no longer used to exclude but to show forth grace and invite people to journey again in communion with God and each other.

In this sense contemplating our sin should not be used simply as a guilt trigger to make us confess to God our wrong doings but as a way of seek to live our lives in God's time. With these thoughts in mind I have been contemplating the old "Seven deadly Sins" wondering how they might speak to us in these days.

Consider the sin of gluttony. I was interested to discover how Aquinas further elucidated the topic. You can read more about that here.

Whist this is interesting I consider it pertinent to view this issue of gluttony in light of the words of the Lord's prayer "give us this day our daily bread" which I hear as words of interecession longing for justice and equity for the whole world "give to all humanity the basic necessities of life".

In the West our consumption of food, our desire to eat so much meat, our demand for variety in our diet, our super sized meals, our feasts seem to contradict the words which we pray. I have been to so many church functions where the generosity of people have seen tables groaning because they are laden with so much food. Such generosity may be a sign of our encoutner with God but I wonder sometimes whether it is misdirected.

Of course some may argue that there is a fine line to walk here between celebrating appropriately God's providence and offering generous hospitality. Yet it would seem apparent that in a world where food shortages are so widespread and the potential for this situation to get markedly worse in the near future we are well overdue to contemplate whether we have embraced a gluttonness life and what Jesus might be saying to us about how we are to live now.

Pointing away from ourselves

I was in conversation with a friend recently about running a group associated with the church. Whilst he was interested in what I was proposing he made the comment that if he knew it was a church running it he wouldn’t come. He went on to say that he was not alone in holding such a view, not simply because of the bad things that have been done by the church in history but also because if he came to a church group he would not feel safe to express his own ideas.

This conversation is not unlike many I have had over the years which continually remind me that the church has a bad name in the community and bridging the gap means overcoming not only apathy but sometimes open hostility.

I suspect one of the reasons many of Jesus followers are trying to work outside the institutional churches is that they are trying to disassociate themselves from the stigma of being in ‘the church’. This appears to work to a certain extent but whether we want to acknowledge it or now being Christian means being church with all of the baggage that this brings.

As followers of Jesus owning the hurts and pains and doubts that the church has caused in peoples’ lives is not easy but unless we own our imperfection and continually confess it then we deceive ourselves. We cannot sweep our transgressions under the carpet nor can we point at how much we think we love one another as if we are getting it perfectly right.

As followers of Jesus we can only point away from our imperfect actions and at Jesus and pray that in the midst of our flawed witness God’s grace shines through and the kingdom of God come close.

Jesus Emmanul (part 2)

Less than a week out from celebrating the birth of Jesus we begin to plumb the depths of the concept of God becoming human, which is also known as the incarnation. This Sunday we enter these depths as we consider the names given to this child by God’s messenger the angel: ‘Jesus’ and ‘Emmanuel’!

The angels declares, “She will bear a Son, and you are to name him Jesus, for he will save his people from their sins.”

To hear the name ‘Jesus’, to use it, rolls too quickly, too easily, too unthinkingly off our lips because it has been our currency in the church in recent years. We have grown accustomed to the idea that power is attached to Jesus name or we have filled the name with sentimentalism and romaticised it.

Throughout history the name and its pronunciation have been explored in different ways Jesus – Jesu, Yesu, Iesous, Ye’shua, Joshua - maybe using one of these other appellations is more helpful because it empties the imagery and connotation we have attached to the name ‘Jesus’.

In the ancient world and especially in the scriptures the meaning that lay behind the name was all important. Iesous means something like ‘he who saves’.

Here is the good news that the scriptures reveal in the words of the angel to Joseph ‘he who saves’ is going to be born.

Who is he saving and from what and for what?

Jesus comes to save me, Jesus comes to save you, Jesus comes for all people from all times, from all places. This is the moment in of all of history which defines the world in its relationship with God.

Jesus comes to save me and you personally and us corporately from our desire to put a death to God and to do away with belief in God. Jesus saves us from our rejection of living our lives in tune with God’s wondrous acts of creating this world, giving us the gift of our lives and the gift of each other.

The coming of ‘he who saves’ declares that we need to be saved from our predilection to pursue our self serving ends as if the life given to me revolves only around ‘me’: the pursuit of becoming like gods, just as Adam and Eve did. It this reality, which despite our denial, pops up again and again: in our hedonistic pursuits; in our blindness to those in need around us; and, in our litigious society that expects perfection.

Ye’shua, he who saves, releases us from the consequences of what we leave out of our lives and fail to do as those things which we do which cause harm to others and dishonour the one who made us.

Saved from the consequences of our actions and inaction we are set free to live again for God, for each other and for the creation without any sense of judgement or guilt hanging over us. We can live with joy and thanksgiving expressed in our worship, in our commitment to follow Jesus, in the expression of our compassion and care of others as we share in Jesus ministry.

The genesis of Yesu in our midst is God doing this new thing through ‘he who saves’, beginning with this new act of creation of Jesus’ life in Mary’s womb. Set from sin, set free to share in his life and ministry.

The Message of John the Baptist

Matthew 3:1-12

John the Baptist sought to expose the truth about the unfaithfulness of the Israelites and to challenge the status quo of power and authority.

John preached repentance and baptised those who were willing to confess their sin. When the Pharisees and Scribes appeared he called them names. He reviled them. He pulled no punches.

This wild man from the desert places with his camel hair clothing and unruly behaviour preached repentance and so declared that people were sinners who needed to turn back to God.

In this John becomes the midwife for the coming of Jesus. He is leading the ante-natal class as he prepares the people of God for the incarnation of God.

John’s message was that God’s people and even more so their leaders had strayed from God’s ways.

John’s message sits as uncomfortably now as it did back then. We live in a theological and spiritually stunted age which shies away from naming sin.

Yet naming sin, even in our lives, is not very difficult. It is easy for me to point the finger at us all in crass sentimentalism and consumerism through this Christmas period. I read this week this statement on Byron Smith’s blog:

Today is the first day of the liturgical new year. At this time of year, Christians await the coming of the Messiah; pagans go shopping. Christians yearn for a new world; pagans max out the credit card. Christians fast and pray; pagans hurry around in fear of missing a bargain or not having the right present for everyone.

Peace on earth: it's a promise based on the coming of the King; it's an experience tasted by those who wait for his advent.

I reflected on the behaviour of many people in the Kairos congregations, amongst my friends and even in my own family and decided that many of us look more like pagans than Christians.

But we are told not to speak of sin and of people as sinners because it is too negative, too demoralising. Don’t be negative, this is the season for joy, but my question is does everyone get a share in this consumerist joy?

We celebrate the ascension of humanity and our command of all things. Our scientific know how has made us arrogant. Those who speak of sin are seen as too conservative or old fashion – trying to give people a guilt complex and destroy their self esteem.

Yet the experience of many in this age which has been liberated from the talk of sin is not joyfully abundant life but anxiety and depression. The weight of the world is upon us for we are meant to be perfect. We use words like progress and growth to describe our journey as a human race to indicate we are getting better as people, but problems still plague us.

John’s message that we are a sinful people holds as true now as it did for the Jews so long ago.

This is difficult news to hear but it also explains a heck of a lot. Even when we seek to do good, often our actions can have unseen consequences which break down and destroy rather than build up.

The proclamation of the failure of Israel to be faithful to God’s promises and God’s faithfulness is to become the message on which the good news of the incarnation is to be built.

John is preparing the way for Jesus who comes to create the reconciliation needed between God and all people and ultimately the whole creation within his life, in his very flesh.

John’s call to repentance sets the context. As people who seek to turn to God, even those who repented and were baptised, we still need God’s help, God’s intervention in our predicament.

We cannot climb the ladder of holiness up to God, yet the good news is that in God’s grace God chooses to come and walk among us in Jesus and to heal our disease.

This may seem a negative view of humanity but God spins this negativity into a message of hope. Hope that our relationships can be reconciled, hope that we are loved in spite of our failures, hope that beyond our personal experiences of life and death God is and God loves and God redeems.

This is the good news that John prepares the way for. It is the good news that we prepare our hearts for as we approach the celebration of Jesus birth. It is the good news that we proclaim in a world that is so often blind to sin and its consequences.