Fear and Denial
March 18, 2007
Luke 22:31-34 and 54-62
We at First church have been talking a lot about evil lately. I know, it is a bit weird. The progressive Christian church likes mostly to stay in the positive and quickly begins to sweat in fear that literalism or common confession will be mandated. I think that part of the problem with delving into these topics is the baggage this stuff brings up from the light hearted manner the church has historically been about for, oh, I don’t know, the last 1500 years? Right now, the Christian church is in this season of Lent. It’s 40 days long, not counting Sundays. During this time we are called to work on 3 things. First, our connection to God, both on our part and on God’s part. We are to ask ourselves how we are making time in our lives to connect to the Presence of the Holy One. How we are working to open ourselves and how we are waiting to hear what God is saying to us? Second, we are called to consider the tools needed to be a part of this Jesus movement. We are called to consider what it takes, who we are as unique human beings, and what areas we are struggling with, lacking in or want to better equip us on our Spiritual journey. Then, once that discernment takes place we are called to find the tools to strengthen the weakness, assist the journey. Finally, we are called to put this faith into action by showing love to our neighbor in concrete ways. It is not an easy season of our time. It takes engagement and work. It takes critical and honest eyes looking into places that are often sore, places we don’t want to see not to admit or name. This is how we also came to look at the problem of evil this season.
We’ve talked about evil in really large, broad ways leading up to today. We spoke of how seductive evil is. How systemically it gets embedded into culture and finally how it supports us standing on the backs of those we love, of those who are part of the human family. Today, we turn the spiral again and begin to look a bit more closely at evil in relation to our own work and breath.
I love Luke’s telling of this story about Simon Peter. Peter was known as the rock. He’s the one that Jesus can count on. He’s the one that gets it first. He’s the one who stays late and shows up early. He’s the man. All the others have a love hate relationship with Peter…He seems like such a favorite, and why wouldn’t he be? But, man, can the guy let stuff go to his head! All that, ‘he’d go to prison and to death for this faith, this movement, this word, this opportunity to follow Jesus’ what a bragger. He’s always trying to one up the rest, because he’s so sure. I can almost hear the others rolling their eyes when he throws it down like that. We can all imagine the Peters we know. They are the strong, solid, confident ones we are drawn to. We’re drawn because they are passionate about their beliefs and sincere in their emotion.
And yet, when it counts he freezes. When it counts he wants to do the right thing, but he does nothing. He doesn’t fight for Jesus when the soldiers come. He doesn’t call Judas out. His voice is silent during the arrest of Jesus. And then, he follows them to the courtyard and sits by the fire, denying who he is time and time again…until the cock crows. He meets Jesus’ eyes before it sinks in what he is doing…And then the dawning, the slow, sickening feeling, of absolute self loathing. The horror, the shame, he runs and weeps bitterly. In the face of his friend, his mentor, his teacher, his calling he denied who he was, what he was, how he was.
It’s easy for me to talk about this. We know this feeling. We know this feeling of bitter tears. When you’ve been a party to something that makes you throw up a bit; When you’ve roasted someone; When you’ve added fuel to a fire that wasn’t your business to be burning; When you don’t know the whole story but speak as if you do and weigh in on an issue created and outcome that won’t touch you but has a domino effect on the living, the health, the care of others. It’s the moment when you feel the dominos fall, when you can’t get it back, when it’s too late and you realize, I did this too. The moment when even if you take it back, it’s too late, damage has been done. That is the crying that Peter is doing here. It is that disgusted, I can’t look at my face weeping. It hurts. It haunts. It is ugly, bitter and full of shame. These are the tears here in this story. The are hot, bitter, sickening tears.
When people say that the Bible is worth throwing out, I wonder if they’ve read this story. I’m so grateful to it. It’s so wonderful to have this story of Peter to know, that Jesus called him the rock and that didn’t mean he got it right all the time. It didn’t mean that he couldn’t really screw it up. This incredible ancient story full of bitter tears. Tears that seem so familiar and real to me here in this time and place.
As good as this word is, this word of naming, we don’t always follow through, we don’t always keep our word, we don’t always do what we’re called to do and be. We have the phenomenal words given to Jesus. Jesus saying, we’re all going to be sifted. And, I have been praying for you, for each of you, and once you’ve turned back strengthen your sisters and brothers.
Jesus calls Peter the rock. Jesus calls Peter the rock in spite of saying…you’re going to be sorted out and you’re going to leave it all behind. But, it’s ok. Because you’ll come back. And when you come back you’ll be able to use your experience to strengthen those around you. The Good news from the evil that we participate in today. The evil of breaking covenant. The evil of breaking relationship. The evil of hating another, condemning another, killing another, selling another it can lead us away from the Presence. It can close us off to the Presence. We’ll feel separated, spread out, distanced. But, we can return to God. We can choose to come back. We will be welcomed back. And, from those ashes, from that sore spot, from that “mistake” we can learn. We can rise. We can learn and help others learn.
It seems we often get trapped in our own fear and denial and just can not allow ourselves to be forgiven. We think that Peter’s denial is too much. We think the cock crowing is the judgment. When in fact, that wasn’t the end of the story only a middle place to stop. Fear and denial keep us in this useless place. This place that denies our stories aren’t important. This place that tells us we aren’t good enough, important enough, worth enough to speak, move, change. What’s going to be different? What’s different is that, screwing up isn’t the end of our story. There is absolutely no spectrum for this. Peter, an absolute screw up...I mean come on…Jesus loved him! Jesus calls him the rock to remind him of how much he believes in him. Jesus spends all of his time talking to him, mentoring him, answering him, encouraging him. And, Peter responds by pledging his ultimate commitment. And, when that moment comes…Peter can’t do it. He waivers. He is afraid. He hides. He denies. When confronted, he denies. Peter can’t do it. Peter abandons his practice, his friend, his mentor, his love for safety. And, his friend, his mentor, his beloved, his teacher, he’s executed. He is dead. He is gone. And, partly at Peter’s hands. It is huge. And yet, Jesus says, it’s OK. This is not the end of this story. Use your mistakes to make you stronger. Go on. Move through it, come back round and look at where we were before this, remember and remember me, I named you the rock, because you are strong enough to even face up to this.
This is the season of the church where we must let go of all those voices that we aren’t enough. This is the season of the church when we allow our shortcomings, our misgivings, our self loathing and hatred to be released. This is the season where Jesus cries out to us, beloved, you can use that stuff to make you stronger. It is not me that insists you carry it. Instead I say, let it go and come back into the love and light. For with you I am well pleased. Let us pray.