©2000 Larry Huntsperger Peninsula Bible Fellowship

4/23/00 Easter ...

4/23/00 Easter

Peter walked along in silence
      with Jesus and the other disciples.
It was dark,
      the streets were now nearly deserted.

Why in the world Jesus had wanted to go to this garden now,
      at this time of night was beyond him.

It didn't feel safe out here tonight,
      especially after the things that had been happening the past few days.

This had NOT been a good week for Simon Peter.

And it had all started out so good, too.

Peter thought about that incredible entrance into the city just a few days earlier.

He remembered the thousands and thousands of people,
      all of them marching along beside Jesus,
            people ripping off their cloaks
                  and using them to pave the ground before the Master,
            people waving branches in the air,
            people cheering,
                  and dancing,
                        and calling Jesus the next King of Israel.

Where were they all now?

This was awful.
      Rather than taking advantage of all that popularity,
            all week long Jesus had been doing all the wrong things.

It started with that terrifying scene at the Temple last Monday.

For the second time in four years
      Jesus attacked the money changers
            and those selling the "approved" sacrificial animals.

He tore open all their cages,
      and drove them right off the Temple grounds,
            telling them they had turned the Temple of God into a robber's den.

There's no doubt it was great fun,
      with all those animals running loose,
            and the little birds flying free,
                  and the terrified merchants scurrying away like little rats.

The crowd loved it,
      because everyone knew they were being ripped off by those guys
            every time they were forced to exchange their Roman money
                  for the "approved" temple funds,
and then ripped off again
      when they had to purchase one of the "approved" sacrificial animals.

But the whole thing had so infuriated the High Priest
      and his entire power structure
            that the tension between them and Jesus was now at an all-time high.

In fact, friends had warned Jesus repeatedly throughout the week
      that the High Priest was making it known
            there would be a handsome reward
                  for anyone who could tell him
                        when and where Jesus could be found.

And then, all week long,
      nearly every time Jesus appeared publicly
            He either said or did something more
                  to irritate the established leaders.

And now, here they all were,
      trotting along in the dark,
            with just a few lanterns for light,
                  with no cheering crowds to protect them,
      and no place to hide.

At least Peter was taking one precaution -
      he had a sword hidden under his tunic.

Peter wasn't very good with swords.
      In fact, he'd never carried one before in his life.

It felt strange,
      and heavy,
            and awkward hanging there.

Every once in a while it would get tangled up in his legs
      and he'd trip over the stupid thing.

But it made him feel safer having it...
      just in case.

The little band entered the garden.

It smelled good there,
      moist,
            and a little muggy,
                  but good.

Jesus asked Peter,
      and James,
            and John to walk with Him a little ways farther into the garden.

Jesus seemed so troubled,
      different than He'd ever been before,
            like some huge weight was pressing down on Him.

He told Peter and the others
      that He wanted to pray by Himself for a while
            and asked them to wait.

It was so warm there now,
      and so black beyond the reach of the lantern.

At first Peter kept a firm grip on his sword,
      on guard against any unwanted intruders.

But as the minutes crept by,
      and the silence grew more intense,
            Peter and the others decided to sit.

It would be as easy to stand guard from a sitting position.

But it was hard to sit with a sword under your tunic.

Perhaps it would be best to just lay back on the ground.

And if he just closed his eyes,
      he could concentrate more intently
            for the sound of any unwanted intruders...

"Simon, are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour?"

It was the voice of Jesus.

Oh, how embarrassing.
      Peter sat up and promised he would not let it happen again.

But it did,
      a second time,
            and then a third.

But the words spoken by Jesus the third time
      sent a jolt of adrenalin through Peter
            that brought him instantly, fully awake.

"Are you still sleeping and taking your rest? It is enough; the hour has come; behold, the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners."

Peter grabbed his sword, sprang to his feet,
      and frantically tried to understand
            the scene taking place around him.

Lanterns were blazing from every direction,
      and members of the Temple guard were everywhere,
      all of them with swords drawn,
            and clubs held high.

The High Priest was there, giving orders.
      Conversation was taking place between Jesus and the leadership of the group.

Now they were binding Jesus' hands,
      and all the other disciples were creeping back into the darkness.

Peter knew if ever he was going to act in defense of His Master it had to be now.

He spotted the High Priest in the crowd,
      raised his sword above his head,
            and with a mighty bellow
                  he charged out from behind Jesus
                        right into the enemy forces.

His speed and dexterity were nowhere near as great has his determination, however,
      and the High Priest saw him coming
            in plenty of time to step out of the way.

When Peter brought his sword down
      it glanced off the head of the slave standing behind the Priest.

The slave let out an agonizing wail
      and clasped his hand over the side of his head.
Peter stood before him,
      still clutching his weapon,
            staring at the results of his mighty offensive -
      one little ear lying upon the ground at his feet.

The Temple guard looked for the command to attack.

But before anyone could speak
      Jesus stooped down,
            picked up the severed ear,
                  and then touched it to the slave's wound.

Instantly the ear was restored.

Peter dropped his weapon,
      and bolted into the darkness.

From there it all went from bad to worse.

Jesus was bound and carried off to the courtyard of the High Priest's father-in-law.

Peter crept along in the dark behind them.

It was now the middle of the night,
      but the courtyard was fully lighted
            and crowded with people.

Jesus' arrival had been expected.

When no one was looking,
      Peter attempted to slip into the courtyard unnoticed,
            but just as he passed the entrance
                  a slave girl spoke.

"You too were with Jesus the Galilean! You are not also one of this man's disciples are you?"

Peter's response was immediate.

"I don't know what you are talking about, woman. I don't know Him!"

Peter tried to stay in the shadows,
      watching the sham of a trial taking place before him,
            listening to the stream of lying witnesses being brought up against Jesus.

Then suddenly one of the guards
      caught a glimpse of Peter's face
            and spoke to those standing around.

"This man was with Jesus of Nazareth. You are one of them too!"

Peter's second denial came more easily than the first.
"Man, I am NOT!"

He quickly moved to another part of the courtyard,
      sweat now pouring freely down his face and neck,
            in spite of the coolness of the night.

About an hour later
      Peter felt a sudden tap on his shoulder.

It was another of the High Priest's slaves.

"Did I not see you in the garden with Him?"

The man's accusation caused all those in the immediate area
      to turn and look at Peter.

At first Peter tried to make his denial
      sound casual and disarming.

"No, of course not. Don't be ridiculous."

But the man knew he was not mistaken.

"No, you're lying! That was my brother's ear you cut off. Your Galilean speech gives you away!"

The explosion that erupted from Peter
      burst forth with such violence
            it caused even the High Priest himself
                  to stop in mid sentence
                        and look in Peter's direction.

"Listen you little fool! I don't know that man and I never have!"

As he spoke Peter stretched out his arm in Jesus' direction
      and punctuated his words with a jabbing index finger.

"I have nothing to do with Him, do you understand? I don't know Him!
      I don't want to know Him!
            I couldn't care less what happens to Him.
He is no friend of mine,
      and I assure you I'm no friend of His!"

And then, just so there could be no misunderstanding,
      he finished his tirade with a string of profanity
            that made it clear to everyone
                  he shared nothing in common
with this Galilean Rabbi on trial for His life.

Peter didn't realize he'd been screaming
      until he heard the silence in the courtyard that followed.
      
No one spoke.
      No one moved.
Peter finally became aware of his arm,
      still suspended in mid air,
            aimed at Jesus.

The sound that finally shattered the stillness
      was the sound of a distant, lone rooster
            crowing his declaration of an approaching dawn.

Suddenly Jesus' words came to Peter's mind,
"Truly I say to you that this very night, before a rooster crows, you will deny Me three times."

Peter turned toward Jesus.
      Their eyes met,
            and in that meeting at last Peter saw himself.

Tears blurred his vision
      as he pushed his way passed those blocking his exit
            and fled into the darkness.

He ran until he found some ancient,
      deserted alleyway,
            a place reserved for the filth and the refuse of the city.

Several curious rats squeaked their concern at his intrusion.

It seemed like a fitting place
      in which to live out the rest of his existence -
      just another piece of worthless garbage in among the rest.

Three days later
      Peter sat with his fellow disciples
            in their borrowed room
                  in the early morning light.

Jesus' mockery of a midnight trial
      ended in His bloody, hideous execution on a Roman cross.

His body had been wrapped in a sort of cocoon of linen wrappings
      and a paste mixture of myrrh and aloes,
            then laid to rest in a donated tomb.

Now the disciples lived each waking hour
      in a painful fog of fear,
            emptiness,
                  sorrow,
                        and regret,
wondered if they would be next.

When they heard the sudden pounding on the door
      every man in the room
            wondering if perhaps
                  the time of their own arrest had finally come.

But it wasn't soldiers that burst into that room, that early Sunday morning.

It was Mary, Jesus' mother,
      along with a group of other women,
            all loyal followers of the Master.

The instant they burst into the room
      everyone of them began talking at once.

"We just saw Jesus!"
      "He's alive! He's alive! He's alive!"
            "He's real, He's whole, He's coming to see you!"

Everyone started talking at once,
      and it took several minutes to get their account straight.

They had all gathered at sunrise,
      planning to go to the Master's grave,
            to mourn His death,
            and anoint His body with spices.

But when the arrived at the tomb,
      rather than finding the body of Jesus,
            they found two angels
                  sitting at either end of the collapsed shell of linen wrappings
      that had once encased the body of Jesus.

When the angels saw the women
      they stood and one of them spoke:
"Do not be afraid; for I know that you are looking for Jesus who has been crucified. He is not here, for He has risen, just as He said. Come, see the place where He was lying. And go quickly and tell His disciples that He has risen from the dead; and behold, He is going before you into Galilee, there you will see Him; behold, I have told you."

And then, just as they were leaving the tomb,
      they saw Jesus Himself.
He wasn't a ghost.
      He was real, and He was alive!

The first word He spoke
      was the single word, "Rejoice!"

Then He told them not to be afraid any longer,
      and to go and tell his disciples
            that He was coming to see them.

That first account of Jesus' resurrection
      had a strange effect on Peter.

On one hand, he was thrilled at the thought of Jesus coming back to life.

But it also made the agony of his own failures and denials
      all the more painful.

Obviously this risen, victorious Jesus
      wouldn't want to have anything to do with him now.

As the others babbled on in their excitement,
      Peter pulled away from the group
            and tried once again to cope with the reality of His own failure.

Then he heard the voice of Mary speaking to him.

"Peter, I think you need to know,
      there was one other thing spoken to us by those angels in the tomb.

Their exact instructions to us were these:
"But go, tell His disciples and Peter, 'He is going before you into Galilee; there you will see Him, just as He said to you.'"

Peter! They mentioned you by name. He wants to see you.
And, Peter, if you could have seen the way He is,
      you would know - everything is all right.
In fact, it's not just all right,
      it's wonderful as it has never been wonderful before.
Go to Him, Peter.
      He wants to see you,
            and you very much need to see Him."
At Mary's words
      Peter ran out of the room,
            and headed back to the tomb.

When he arrived,
      without warning Jesus appeared.

Until that instant,
      Peter had not known how much pain,
            how much shame,
                  how much agony still remained inside him.

At the sight of Jesus
      he dropped to his knees,
            and then to his face at the Master's feet.

"Oh my Lord, forgive me...forgive me...forgive me."

There was no question about it being Him,
      or about His being real.

Peter could feel the Lord's feet in his hands,
      and even through his blurred vision,
            he could see where the nails
                  had been driven through His flesh.

Then Jesus knelt down,
      placed His strong grip on Peter's shoulder,
            and spoke his name, "Peter!"

When Peter finally looked up into His face,
      he saw what he believed he would never see again.
            He saw the Master's smile,
                  and saw in His eyes,
not just forgiveness,
      but also victory,
both Jesus' victory and Peter's.

So much detail is given to the life of Peter in the New Testament
      because His interactions with Christ
            mirror so well
                  what we all go through
                        in our pursuit of God.

Peter attempted to approach Jesus
      and serve Jesus,
            and remain loyal to Jesus
in the strength of his flesh,
      relying on his own determination
            and strength of will.

In the end it failed him utterly,
      just as it will utterly fail everyone
            when we attempt to build our lives upon it.

Following Peter's failures
      and repeated denials,
his hope and his future
      depended upon his finding the answers
            to two crucial questions.

First of all, is Jesus really alive?
      Is He there?
            Is He real?

And second,
      how will He respond
            to my sins,
                  and my failures,
                  and my total denial of Him?

When Peter found the answers
      to those two questions
            his eternal life with the Master finally began.

Do you think you have disappointed your Creator?
      When He looks at you,
            do you think He sees failure
                  or success?

How does that make you feel?
How does it make you want to respond to your God?

In our own fleshly efforts
      everyone of us will end up
            right where Peter ended up
                  in those three days between the crucifixion and the resurrection of Christ.

We will look at ourselves
      and know that even the best we had to offer
            was worthless to our God,
                  and powerless to keep us faithful to Him.

And with each of us
      the beginning of our new life
            comes from finding the answers
                  to those same two questions.
We, like Peter,
      must risk going to our God,
            even with the knowledge
                  that what we bring with us
                        is only our failure.

And then, we must allow Him
      to speak to us the truth
            about His attitude toward our sins.

And if we do, we too will hear Him speak our name,
      and hear Him tell us it was for our sins He died,
            and He never expected us to succeed in the flesh,
      and then allow Him to offer us His alternative -
      not our frantic efforts to perform for Him,
but rather His offer to literally dwell inside of us
      and live through us
            the kind and quality of life
we could never have hoped to live for Him.