I'm Back

 

 

Luke 24:36-49

It had been a wild ride just since dawn that day. They were in mourning as the day began.  Then they began to hear the strangest stories, the first from those who had set out to perform a final act of devotion to honor Jesus.  Now, some of the disciples actually claimed to have seen the risen Jesus.  As the two disciples from Emmaus were making their report, “suddenly Jesus appeared among them.”

These disciples had heard the reports of the women and the testimony of those they trusted, like Peter, and now Jesus stood before them.  Instead of immediately rejoicing, they were frightened.  Luke says, “They thought it was a ghost.”

I’m not sure this passage is endorsing the existence of ghosts; I suspect it is simply saying this was the first explanation the disciples imagined.  Remember, Jesus took the disciples by surprise.  Encountering their crucified teacher was the last thing they expected, even though some had reported seeing him.  Nothing here suggests they were experiencing some kind of collective vision born out of wishful thinking.

When Jesus appeared to the disciples that Easter, he really hadn’t come to eat.  He had a lot more on his mind.  Yet, the fact that Jesus ate that bit of fish is important. 

Eating that fish and showing them his wounds was a way of saying, “Look, guys, you’re not hallucinating.  This is the real deal.  I’m back.”

There must have been continuity between the Jesus they had all known and this Jesus who stood before them.  As they say, he was the same but different.  But there was no doubt Jesus was back.

As we listen, we can almost hear Jesus say...

 

“I’m back; My claims have been confirmed.”

 

            Throughout his ministry Jesus said some remarkable things about himself. He claimed the right to forgive, he claimed to be fulfilling God’s oldest promise, he claimed to be God’s Son.  He claimed that whether or not a person had a relationship with him would decide their eternal destiny.  When he died, there were some who would have assumed that just another religious megalomaniac was dead. 

The resurrection verified all he had said about himself. Paul was speaking of the significance of the resurrection when he wrote the Romans, [Jesus’] “...unique identity as Son of God was shown by the Spirit when Jesus was raised from the dead, setting him apart as the Messiah, our Master.”

Imagine someone trying out for the Reds or the Indians who was so skinny he might be mistaken for a baseball bat, a fellow whose only association with steroids was his inhaler.  Now suppose this fellow told the manager that he could consistently hit the ball into the center field seats.  We could understand if the manager was skeptical and decided to teach the young fellow a lesson by having him face the team’s best pitcher.  So, the pitcher let him have his very best fast ball, curve ball, and slider.  Each time the unknown stranger sends the ball into the seats.  He verified his claims.

A man who made the claims Jesus did would have had to do more than hit a couple baseballs.  Perhaps he could have done other things to verify his claim to be God in the flesh, but the resurrection was especially linked to his claim to be able to forgive our sins.  Again, it was Paul who spoke so directly to this point.  Writing to the Corinthians, who were questioning the resurrection, he said, “…if Christ has not risen, your faith is a vain thing—you are still in your sins.”

Because of the resurrection, we may have confidence in Jesus’ claim to be able to deal with our sins.

“I’m back and Death has been defeated.”

 

Death has stalked humankind throughout history.  Montaigne said it briefly, “All days travel toward death, the last one reaches it.”  Despite the loud protests that death is just a part of life, most of us sense that death just isn’t natural.

Mel Brooks is hardly a theologian but he offers a realistic view of what we think about death:

Why do we have to die? As a kid you get nice little white shoes with white laces and a velvet suit with short pants and a nice collar and you go to college, you meet a nice girl and get married, work a few years and then you have to die! What is this? They never wrote that in the contract.

Jesus proved what we long suspected but just weren’t sure about: death is not the end.  Jesus came back to invite us to share the victory.

Because of Jesus’ victory, we have the strength to bear the loss of a loved one.  Because of Jesus’ victory, we can hear the physician’s darkest diagnosis.  Because of Jesus’ victory there is hope God can transform our darkest hour.

 

"I'm back, proving you can trust God's promises."

 

For the third time in this chapter, the disciples were reminded they had missed the signals.  They had seized the promise of the Messiah but had missed the details.  Because of that, they failed to see the ages old promise was being fulfilled in Jesus, even as he was dying on the cross.

Now, once again, the Risen Christ was taking them back through the Scripture to see that nothing of what happened to Him was unexpected.

On a smaller scale, Jesus' victory over the grave reminds us we can rely on God's promises.  God's promises of love, grace, forgiveness, help, and strength can be trusted.  But there is an important point we shouldn't miss.  We're just as prone as the disciples to misunderstand those promises.  When we stand on those promises, we better make sure what is being promised.  While God promises grace and strength, none of those promises say we are immune from trouble.  God's people have starved in famines, God's people have become sick in epidemics, God's people have lost their jobs in hard times. Yet, God's promise to love us and seek our best has never failed.  A chorus says, "The God of the mountain is still God in the valley...."  The Risen Jesus reminds us of God's trustworthiness.

As Jesus speaks of God fulfilling the ancient promises, he adds a note that may have surprised the disciples.  They were part of the fulfillment.

Jesus said to them, "... repentance and forgiveness of sins is to be proclaimed in his name to all nations, beginning from Jerusalem.  You are witnesses of these things."  This leads us to the next truth Jesus underscored when he told the disciples "I'm back."

 

“I’m back and I have something for you to do.”

 

Several times after the resurrection Jesus reminded his disciples they would be carrying his story to the whole world.  It was something they couldn’t keep to themselves.  Jesus’ story would be “…preached in his name to all nations, starting at Jerusalem.”^[1]  Luke told the story of the earliest days of that adventure in the Book of Acts.  It only begins to tell of the church's determination to take the story of Jesus to the whole world.

The reality of the resurrection pushed those story-tellers into an often hostile world.   Easter gave his people a reason to cross deserts, mountains, and oceans telling his story.

 Within a few decades, Christianity had spread throughout the Roman world and beyond.  They would not promise riches to those who believed.  They would not promise earthly power.  They would not promise a life without problems.  No they would promise the forgiveness of sins, made possible by God’s own actions on our behalf.  They would make this promise as they told the story of Jesus, a man who had defeated the power of death.

 

“I’m back but I’m not staying.  And that’s okay because I have a Gift for you.”

Jesus never claimed to be back for good.  While scholars may debate whether this episode is meant to be the prelude to the Ascension or Jesus simply returning to heaven at the end of the first Easter, it's clear the post-Resurrection appearances would end.  Yet, he said he never would leave his people on their own, like "orphans," as he says in John. 

They would not have to carry out the work he had given them in their own strength.  He said, “I am sending upon you what my Father promised; so stay here in the city until you have been clothed with power from on high.” ^[2] Jesus audience would have recognized what he meant by the Father’s promise.  He was speaking of the Holy Spirit.  In the Old Testament, the Spirit seemed to come for a specific task and then depart.  Yet, the Messianic Age would see the permanent presence of the Spirit.

The fulfillment of that promise was so crucial that Jesus told his disciples to “wait” in Jerusalem until the Spirit came on the infant church.  As great as the task was, they were not to begin until the church had received the Spirit.  He gave them a challenging commission--they needed to get busy--yet Jesus seemed to be saying, “Hurry up and wait.”

The disciples were probably eager to get to work but they must have known how important Jesus’ Gift was.  Do we?

Today, in the American church at least, there’s little real growth; church attendance has remained the same for decades and may be declining.  There are some churches reaching new people but they're rare.  Even among the mega-churches, those churches where thousands attend every weekend, most of the growth is “transfer growth,” in which men and women—families—raised in smaller churches join these large churches because of the programs they offer. 

Of course, smaller churches also benefit from transfer growth as the disenchanted members of other small churches look for something more to their liking or newcomers to a community look for churches like those they left behind.

In both large and small churches there is very little “conversion growth,” growth due to the conversion of those who have had little or no pervious contact with the church.  The average age for baptism in the Southern Baptist Convention is very young, suggesting that we’re simply baptizing those born to families who are already in our ranks.

Yet, outside the West, in the Global South, in sub-Saharan Africa, and in parts of Asia, the church is growing rapidly.  Why?  In each place, the church is utterly dependent upon the Spirit—like the church in Acts.

Why aren’t we more like the church in the Book of Acts? We can’t claim it was easier for those early Christians.  After all, their founder had been executed as a criminal, both the secular and religious authorities opposed them, the culture was filled with competing religions, some with requirements far less demanding than repentance and commitment.  No, it wasn’t necessarily easier for those early Christians.

There may be a number of differences between then and now but one must be the role the Holy Spirit played in the lives of Christians.

The late John Stott wrote about the significance of the Spirit in the life of the early church:

“Without the Holy Spirit, Christian discipleship would be inconceivable, even impossible.  There can be no life without the life-giver, no understanding without the Spirit of truth, no fellowship without the unity of the Spirit, no Christlikeness of character apart from his fruit and no effective witness without his power.  As a body without breath is a corpse, so the church without the Spirit is dead.^[3]

 

Compare that with a statement by one modern church leader who commented that the early church needed the Spirit because it did not know about mass marketing techniques like we do.

Let's be wise and not spurn the Risen Christ's Gift.

 

 CONCLUSION

When Jesus left his disciples, he left them very different than he had found them three years before.  In fact, he left them very different than they had been only hours before. 

He left them with a confirmed faith.  He was who he said he was.

He left them with a wondrous Gift.  If this Gift were fully appreciated, they would have a unity, an integrity, and a power that would cause the world to wonder.

He left them with a great task.  They had a reason for being.

He left them with a reborn hope.  They knew that one day the Jesus who had left them would come once again to say, "I'm back."

 

---

^[1] The Holy Bible : New Century Version , Containing the Old and New Testaments. Dallas, TX : Word Bibles, 1991, S. Lk 24:47

^[2] The Holy Bible: New Revised Standard Version. 1989 (Lk 24:49). Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers.

^[3]   John Stott, The Spirit, the Church, and the World:  The Message of Acts,  Downers Grove:  Inter-Varsity Press, 1990, p. 60.

A Walk With A Stranger--Who Wasn't

Luke 24:13-35

Not long ago Pat and I were in a resale shop filled with all sorts of items people had once treasured but had given up to get a little cash or just because they were tired of having them around the house.  Some of the items were still useful and some of them would have been described as "junk" had it not been for nostalgia.  There was a print of a painting depicting three men walking though the countryside.  Trees towered above them and through a break in the trees you could see a green meadow in the distance.  The region suggested a dense European forest, perhaps Germany's Black Forest.  But it wasn't supposed to be anywhere in Europe.  This was a copy of Robert Zund's painting of Christ and two disciples on the road to Emmaus.

This story, which Luke alone tells, captures our imaginations.  It appeals to us because we wonder what it might have been like to have Jesus Christ as a traveling companion, giving us insight into the puzzles troubling us, and having him as a guest at a meal in our home. 

As much as we might wonder about that, Luke has his own purposes in telling the story.  We need to try to understand them.

 Before we do that, let's take a closer look at the story.

In his reporting on Jesus' Resurrection, Luke groups these accounts in such a way as to suggest they all took place on the same day, a day which ended with Jesus returning to heaven.  Some believe this contradicts other post- Resurrection accounts of Jesus appearing several days after the first Easter.  That would hardly be Luke's intention since he takes such pains in the first chapter of Acts to tell how Jesus had spent some forty days with the disciples. 

While not denying Luke may have been employing a literary device that allowed him to compress Jesus' post-Easter ministry to one very busy day, I think Luke is simply telling us stories that underscore the reality of what happened.

 

I'm going to divide the story into four episodes.

 

Episode One:  The Two Alone.

 

The story begins sometime after the women had found the tomb empty.  Like the others, these disciples were puzzled by the report.  So after Peter confirmed the tomb was empty, they did not wait to find out any further information.  Instead, they struck out for their home in Emmaus. 

There were several villages with that name near Jerusalem.  This one was about seven miles from the city.  It was the home of the two disciples.  One is named, Cleopas, the other isn't named.  Just why that should be isn't clear.  Some have suggested Luke heard the report from Cleopas.  At least one writer suggests the other disciple was Luke himself.  This seems unlikely since every other tradition about the gospel-writer describes him as a Gentile.  Despite the tendency of Christian artists to depict the two disciples as male, they may have been husband and wife.  I think that makes a good deal of sense.

It's not an issue we have to resolve since their identity isn't crucial to the story.

What is significant is the fact we are allowed to see into the hearts of the disciples in the period before the Resurrection had been confirmed. 

As the two walked along they were discussing all that had been happening.  The text suggests there was a back and forth dialogue going on.  At the same time, there was an atmosphere of sadness as they walked along, perhaps their heads were down.  Maybe they moved listlessly, with no bounce in their step.  We would not be surprised to learn they hadn't slept much since the events of the previous Friday.  As they talked, we might have seen them shake their heads in puzzlement and confusion.

They may have even been so focused on their discussion they failed to see a Stranger approach.

Episode Two:  The Two with a Stranger

As they walked along, they were joined by a Stranger.  Keener says it wasn't unusual for travelers unknown to each other to walk together on journeys.  For one thing there was safety in numbers and there was the promise of companionship for the trip.  And in a day without smart phones or broadcast media it was a way to keep up with the news.

So, these disciples didn't find it unusual that Jesus joined them as they walked along.  Actually, they didn't know the Stranger was Jesus.  The text says they were kept from recognizing him.  The reason for this subterfuge will become clear as the story progresses.

The Stranger asks, "What are you discussing so intently?"

The two respond, "Are the only visitor to Jerusalem who doesn't know the things that have happened the past few days?"

Now, let me say that I don't know if every visitor to Jerusalem that Passover season knew the drama that had focused on Jesus.  But there's no doubt it was such a big deal with these disciples that they couldn't imagine anyone not knowing.

Yet, the Stranger asks, "What things?" (As if he didn't know.)  There is a kind of amusing irony in that question but it also opens the way for the disciples to give their take on what had happened.

So, the two answer:

 

We are talking about the "...things that happened to Jesus the Nazarene. He was a man of God, a prophet, dynamic in work and word, blessed by both God and all the people. Then our high priests and leaders betrayed him, got him sentenced to death, and crucified him. And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel. And it is now the third day since it happened. But now some of our women have completely confused us. Early this morning they were at the tomb and couldn’t find his body. They came back with the story that they had seen a vision of angels who said he was alive. Some of our friends went off to the tomb to check and found it empty just as the women said, but they didn’t see Jesus.”

 

 

Now, notice some important points.  First, they saw Jesus as a "prophet."  Their insight into his identity ran no deeper than many others who had heard him teach or seen a miracle or two.  Second, the character of their hope was largely political.  Jesus, they hoped, would free Israel from Roman domination.  Their concern was the temporal, not the spiritual.  Third, instead of inspiring hope, the report the women brought had only made them confused.

Now, the Stranger speaks.  He is not polite.  If they really had been walking through the Black Forest, he might have addressed them, "You dunderheads."   He suggests they were dull, foolish, and to a degree irresponsible in not grasping what the Scripture taught about the Messiah.  He then lays out the details.

He took them through the Scripture to show that everything that had happened had been predicted and was necessary for God's plan.  The cross was  not an accident, evidence of things getting out of control; it was part of the scheme.  And that scheme would be the prelude to the Messiah entering his rightful glory.

Notice something.  The Stranger's words didn't offend them; instead, we're told his words set their "hearts on fire."  How can this be?  I think they somehow sensed the Stranger's words, however harsh they might seem, were driven by love.  That same love drives whatever correction or chastening the Lord sends our way.  We need to remember that whenever we have to speak a corrective word to another; we need to make sure our words are spoken out of concern, not contempt.

This instruction, which ranged from "Moses...through all the Prophets," continued until the trio reached the disciples' home in Emmaus.  The Stranger seemed ready to continue on but the two disciples asked him in to stay with them, to eat and perhaps spend the night.  Again, it wasn't safe for a lone traveller to be on the road after dark.

Having said that, let me say it isn't entirely clear what time of day this was.  The words translated as "it is almost evening" literally mean the sun was moving toward setting.  We would say it's afternoon.  So, this may have been mid-afternoon by our reckoning.  Whatever time it was, the two disciples were likely hungry after their walk and assumed the Strange would be too.  So they offered their hospitality.

While Christians would be known for their hospitality, it was also part of their Jewish cultural heritage.  Jews were expected to welcome fellow Jews who might be traveling through town into their homes, even if they were strangers.  In fact, Luke describes what was a commonplace ritual.  Courtesy demanded the traveller act as if he were going on ahead; the host was expected to gently urge that traveller to stay.

So, the Stranger stayed with them and joined them for a simple meal. 

Coming to the disciples' table to share a simple meal, the Stranger does something really strange.  He assumes the role of host.  He picks up the bread, blesses it, breaks it, and hands it to the probably startled disciples.  In that moment they saw him for who he was.^[1]  He was no stranger, he was Jesus--the one they had believed dead.  Immediately, their Guest disappeared.

Episode Three:  The Two Alone, Again

Whatever weariness they may have felt from their journey or the stresses of the past few days was suddenly gone.

 They were elated.  Suddenly it all made sense.  They understood why Jesus had to suffer and die.  Why did they now understand?  Because Jesus had explained the Scripture to them.  Like a masterful detective in an English mystery novel, he had woven together all the clues that had been in front of them all along.  So many who had been yearning for the Messiah's coming had "lost the plot" somewhere along the way; God never did. 

This explains why they had to be kept from seeing who the Stranger was.  Had they immediately known he was Jesus, they would have been so thrilled, so excited, they wouldn't have heard anything else.  Understanding the Scripture prepared them for seeing the Risen Christ.

In a sense, these two disciples and the women at the tomb, were representatives of all Jesus' disciples on that first Easter.  Even though they had spent so many Sabbaths hearing the Scriptures read, they hadn't been listening.  Once they really listened, they were prepared to see.

Episode Four:  The Two and the Rest

No, matter how late it may have been, even if darkness were approaching, they weren't going to keep this news to themselves.

Just imagine the contrast between how they began their walk to Emmaus and how they began their dash back to Jerusalem.

On this journey, they were full of life.  Gone was the air of sadness and sorrow.  Things were different now.

Once in the city, they quickly went to where the Eleven and the others were staying to tell them Jesus was alive--only to discover they already knew.  In fact, they were busy talking about how the Risen Christ had appeared to Peter.

Luke's intent is not to tell us that the two disciples from Emmaus had their surprise spoiled.  I think he is beginning to lay the foundation for the claim that the reality of Jesus' Resurrection is not based on the testimony of just a couple witnesses in isolated incidents.  He is moving toward being able to report that Jesus showed himself alive with "many convincing proofs."

In any case, we can be sure the excitement only grew as the two disciples told their story of their walk with Jesus.

The excitement wasn't over but for now let me ask...

what lessons should we take away from this story?

 

I want to mention only two.

1.     Really seeing Jesus means seeing the Biblical Jesus.

Before these disciples saw Jesus they had to really listen to the Scripture.  So do we.  That may seem to be a "no brainer" but there is such a great temptation to embrace another Jesus, a Jesus other than the Biblical Jesus.  That temptation has been a danger throughout the history of the church. 

There have always been those who have found some aspect of the Bible's portrait of Jesus to be offensive.  Let me focus on that offensive issue the Stranger focused on:  the Cross.

Paul would write the Corinthians that "Christ crucified" was a stumbling-block or a scandal to the Jewish people.  (I Cor. 1:23)  They would not be the last to be tripped-up by it.  Despite its high regard for Jesus as a kind of forerunner to Mohammed, Islam denies he was crucified.  God, they argue, would not have allowed a true prophet to undergo such a humiliating death.  Today there are those who portray Jesus as a teacher, a moral example who was  misunderstood and killed before his time.  He was, to use the description a friend used before his conversion, a good man who did a lot of good things but not God.  The  cross was a tragic accident.

But, in truth, the cross is an essential element in the role of the Biblical Jesus.  We may wish to minimize the cross but we cannot.  The more people objected to the message of the cross, the more Paul would insist on preaching "Christ crucified."

Why should we so object to a Jesus with a cross?

--A Jesus with a cross points to God's unquestionable commitment to us.  Many people who say they believe in God believe in a God who keeps a distance.  Such a God doesn't mess in our affairs, leaves us alone.  A God who is willing to become human and die on the cross is too involved.  Such a God might even want to change us.

--A Jesus with a cross underscores the seriousness of sin.  Sin as a little flaw in our character is one thing, but sin as a problem demanding the cross is something entirely different.  When the two disciples started toward Emmaus, they thought of "redemption" as being free from the power of Rome.  When the two disciples returned to Jerusalem, they had begun to see that the redemption Jesus provided dealt with a deeper need.  Many don't' want to confess they have that need, a need beyond the abilities of their best efforts to fix.

--A Jesus with a cross means we can't treat commitment casually. Of course, many do.  Yet, those who fall into that category of "nominal Christian" haven't really fathomed the reality of the crucified God.  They have seen the cross but failed to understand the "love so amazing...demands [their] soul, their life, their all."

Many of these nominal Christians are seldom at church but it's not a matter of going to church, anyway.  If it were, commitment to Christ would be easy.  Going to church may suggest no more than involvement. Years ago I heard the difference between commitment and involvement explained by pointing to a breakfast of ham and eggs.  When it comes to such a breakfast, the chicken is involved; the pig is committed.

Soon after the first Easter, the Risen Lord would begin to spell out the great commission he had for his disciples.  They would travel far from home, they would face enormous challenges, they would encounter fierce opposition; some would give their lives in taking the gospel "to all nations."  No casual commitment could accomplish that task.

So, there is another lesson to be learned from what transpired on the road to Emmaus.

2.  Those who know the real Jesus seek the community of those who also know him.

Years ago, while I was still in seminary I worked in a large discount store.  One afternoon, I was called to come to the jewelry department.  I couldn't imagine why; I sold paint.  Turns out the manager and his clerk wanted my opinion on a doctrinal question: Do you have to go to church to be a Christian?

The manager--a moonlighting football coach--and his clerk--a high school girl--had been debating the matter.  Im afraid I disappointed the clerk when I said, "No;" but I wish I had added another question to the mix: "Why would a Christian not want to go to church?"  I didn't since I suspected the store manager preferred me selling paint rather than discussing theology.

Of course there are some facets of the modern church a lot of us would love to avoid.  But the church is more than the sum of committees, boards, mortgages, budgets, and any number of annoying things we might name.

When the church is what it ought to be, it becomes a community of men and women united by a common commitment to the Risen Christ.  The disciples from Emmaus rushed back to share their knowledge of Christ's victory over death.  True, they found their fellow disciples already celebrating that victory, but their report only added to the joy.  The church should be a community that is known for its Easter faith, a faith that shapes everything.  A faith that inspires a joy too great to keep to ourselves.

When we forget that, the church becomes just an institution for the preservation of religious tradition.

 

Conclusion

 

So, this story is more than an account of a walk in the country.  It is a reminder of how important our knowing the real Jesus is to having a faith that warms our hearts and enriches our life together.

 

 

---

^[1] Some argue that Luke is describing the Christian Eucharist or Lord's Supper.  I believe that is reading a later theological position back into the text.

Peter and Easter

Luke 24:12

Though the women told and retold the story of their experience at the empty tomb, the Eleven and the other disciples didn't believe them.  It was just too incredible.

Yet, Peter seems to have decided something must have happened at the tomb and determined to find out what.  So he headed for the tomb.  (We know from John’s Gospel that another apostle went with him; this was most likely John.)

At the tomb, Peter discovers it to be just as the women had said.  It was empty.  Well, empty except for the grave-clothes.  That left him puzzled.

You see, even if Jesus hadn’t died—and Peter knew he had—but had merely seemed to die, in his weakened condition he could not have struggled out of those “strips of cloths” that had bound the body.   And no grave-robbers would have taken the time to remove them.

So, Peter was baffled.  John saw the clothes and realized what they meant. So he believed.  Peter’s Easter faith would come just a little later.

This morning I want to take the sparse information we have and insights from the stories of other great Christians, mix in a bit of what I hope is sanctified imagination to try to surmise how "Peter's Easter" may have taken place.

For historical reasons we are often reluctant to say anything that might distinguish Peter from the other disciples.  We don't want to imply he was treated with favoritism in any way.  Yet, is it suggesting favoritism to affirm that Jesus deals with each of us according to our own need? Would it be so unusual to suggest Jesus did just that with Peter?  As we look at the hints regarding Peter and Easter, I think we'll find that's what happened.

On that great day, that first Easter, what did Peter need most?  His need was multifaceted--it involved the need for repentance, reconciliation, and restoration.

The shock and horror of the crucifixion was amplified by Peter's bitter memory of failure.  You recall the story.  A few hours before his death Jesus had predicted his closest disciples would all run away, some even deny him.  The ever impetuous Peter immediately protested:  "No, Lord, I won't deny you."

Jesus responded, "Peter, before this night is over you will deny you know me three times."

"Nope, Lord," Peter insisted, "even if all these others deny you, I won't.  I'll follow you even in death."

Of course, the other disciples chimed in their agreement.  They wouldn't run away or deny Jesus.  But Peter was the first and loudest to tell the Lord he was wrong. Jesus simply left it to time to prove he was right.

And, of course, he was.

Luke tells the story.

Luke 22:54 [The soldiers seized Jesus and] led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. 55 And when some there had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them. 56 A servant girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, "This man was with him."

57 But he denied it. "Woman, I don't know him," he said.

58 A little later someone else saw him and said, "You also are one of them." "Man, I am not!" Peter replied.

59 About an hour later another asserted, "Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean."

60 Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. 61 The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him:"Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times." 62 And Peter went outside and wept bitterly.

 

So, Peter had done what only hours before had been unthinkable.  He had committed an offense against Christ by denying he knew him.  Jesus had done him only good.  Jesus had healed his mother-in-law.  Jesus had allowed him to hear and witness some of the most remarkable words and deeds in history.  Jesus had inspired him to believe he could be more than he ever thought he could be.  Yet, when the test came, he had failed Jesus.

If you can't relate to Peter you are a most remarkable person.  Haven't we all blown it on our pilgrimage?  Haven't we all found ourselves to be spectacular failures?  Haven't we all done that which we once thought to be unthinkable?

If so, you can appreciate the shame and self-condemnation Peter felt.

You can understand why he may have felt he would never escape the memory of those words of denial, words he underscored with curses.  It would never again be the same.

Such thinking might have led him to despair.  He might have given up. We know such people--former church members--who experienced some moral of spiritual failure and have given up.  They feel they can't be forgiven, can never come back. 

Peter might have been like them except for something else Jesus said when he predicted Peter's failure.  Jesus had told him, "I have prayed for you that your faith won't fail.  And that when you come back, you'll help the others."

I like to think those words gave Peter a glimmer of hope. "When you come back"--could that possibly mean this terrible sense of isolation and failure wouldn't last?  We don't know if he had such thoughts, but we do know that his puzzlement over the empty tomb didn't last long.

Sometime, not long after the Resurrection, Jesus appeared to Peter.  The New Testament mentions this without giving any details.

The oldest accounts of the Risen Christ's appearances, found in I Corinthians 15:4-8, includes the report, "He appeared to Cephas (Peter.)"  Later in Luke 24, the disciples say that Peter had seen the Lord.  This shouldn't be too surprising since Mark tells us the angels made a special point of saying Peter was to be told the word of Christ's resurrection.  "Tell the disciples--and Peter," they said.  It's as if they were saying, Peter isn't going to miss out on this, no matter what he may be thinking.

I picture Peter's Easter having two dimensions.

THE FIRST DIMENSION

The first involved this encounter with the Risen Christ which the New Testament mentions but does not reveal exactly when it happened or what happened during the encounter.

Though we don't know what happened when Peter first met the now risen Christ, I think we can safely suppose it was a time of repentance and reconciliation.

It fits what we know of the experiences of so many other Christians who have honestly faced their failures and admitted them.  If that is what happened, a gracious God has chosen to keep the details of Peter's moment with Jesus a secret.  We might want to know more but we're not going to.

I've read the confessions of saints like Augustine, Bunyan, and Newton.  They contain enough information to make the story realistic but even these classics don't indulge in the kind of self-disclosure you can find on Facebook.  Before Facebook I always assumed my friends brushed their teeth in the morning, occasionally had bad service at a restaurant, and sometimes were caught in traffic jams.  Now, I can read about it.  Some things are meant to be kept private.

While we know Peter was there, he nowhere tells us what happened.  Perhaps more significantly, Jesus doesn't tell us.  Nowhere does he appear to the disciples to say, "I want you all to know that I've dealt with that Peter.  We had the very first 'come to Jesus meeting.'  After I had my say he started thinking those sermons by John the Baptists were like Hallmark cards.  He'll think twice about messing up again."

No, that's not how Jesus treated Peter and it's not how he treats us when we fail.  When we really mess up he invites to come to him, seeking forgiveness and reconciliation.  The old gospel song pictures it:  "Softly and tenderly, Jesus is calling...."

Peter's fellow apostle John would write of how God was prepared to hear our confession and offer forgiveness.  "If we confess our sins," John writes, "he is faithful and reliable to forgive our sins."  When he forgives, he cleanses us so thoroughly it's as if we hadn't sinned.

The wonderful story of the Prodigal Son gives us a clue.  Jesus doesn't want to humiliate us when we repent and return to him.  He wants to throw us a party.

But there seems to have been one aspect of Peter's experience of Easter that did demand a public expression.  This is the second dimension I mentioned.

THE SECOND DIMENSION

John tells us that story. 

I'll give the highlights.  Jesus meets with the apostles early one morning on the shore of the Sea of Galilee.  The disciples had been fishing, apparently not expecting to encounter Jesus.  But he does show up and he's prepared them breakfast.

Now, Peter was there and those private encounters had apparently already taken place.  He had been with the others during previous appearances.  Yet, something remained to be dealt with.

After they had eaten, Jesus turns to Peter and pointedly asks, "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these others do?"

It was an important question because Peter had boldly claimed a deeper devotion than his fellow disciples had.  He had failed but so had they.  Now the disciples needed to know if he still felt better than them. 

I won't repeat the details of their dialogue but, in the end, Peter tells Jesus so the others might hear, "Lord, you know I am devoted to you."  There was no pretense of being a super-saint, no claim to a higher degree of spirituality, no suggestion he considered himself their role-model.  Peter was exercising a principle Paul would eventually present in Romans 12: Peter was refusing to think more highly of himself than he ought to think.

If Peter were to ever work alongside these apostles again, he had to let them know he did not consider himself better than they were, more committed to Christ.  That encounter on the lakeshore allowed him to make that clear.

Many times you and I can deal with our failures in a private encounter with the Lord.  Sometimes we can't.

When our failure involves failing someone else, injuring someone else, or causing someone else to question the value of the gospel, we may have to go to that person to confess and seek reconciliation.  An old rule suggests that sometimes our confession must be as public as the sin.  That's certainly been abused in the past but the fundamental notion behind it is sound.  Our sins often have an impact beyond our personal actions.  The proponents of the various Twelve Step programs understand this.  The program always includes a step that says those following the steps must list all persons they have harmed by their behavior and become willing to make amends.  For Christians this involves some form of confession and an effort to heal the past.

Don't be surprised that Peter's Easter involved such a moment.  Among other things, Easter tells us things can be different.

Conclusion

Peter was one of the great figures on the New Testament.  Yet, he failed.  Just like us he failed.  The Risen Christ led him to a place of reconciliation and restoration.  He will do the same for us.

If you've failed in some way, done what was once unthinkable, you don't have to live with the weight of shame and guilt.  You don't have to think that your failure defines you.  Let the Risen Christ deal with your failure with love and compassion.

If your failure has hurt another, allow the Risen Christ to lead you in finding a way to go to that person to humbly seek a new relationship.

How wonderful to come to the Lord's Table next week with that weight lifted.