Peter's Denial

 It was absolutely the worst night of my entire life, until the day I die, I do not think there will ever be a night that will rival it. The night didn't start out that way. We had gathered together for what is the highlight celebration for God's people. It was the Passover meal. It was a night to remember, a night to remember how God brought our people out of slavery in Egypt, a night to remember how on the night in which the angel of death tore through Egypt, those who had heeded God's direction through Moses were spared the loss of life. It was a night to remember God's deliverance. It was a sacred meal and a practice that our people had followed for centuries. We knew the story and the words by heart. Then Jesus changed things. During the meal, he stopped, and like a slave he began washing each of our feet. I tried to refuse, not wanting my teacher, my friend, to stoop to that level, I should have been washing His feet, but with my refusal, he chastised me. Jesus declared that one of us would betray him. That stabbed us in the heart, each of us declaring that it wouldn't be us. Then Jesus changed the liturgy of our sacred meal, taking the unleavened bread, blessing it, breaking it, and giving it to each of us, telling us to take it and eat it, that it was his body. Then He took the cup, blessed it, and told us to drink, that it was His blood, poured out that sins might be forgiven. We took and ate, we took and drank, not because we understood it then, but simply because he told us to eat and drink. No sooner than we had finished this meal than Jesus leveled another accusation. He declared that we would all desert Him that very night. "No way," I declared. I told Jesus that even if everyone else deserted Him, I never would. Jesus looked me in the eye and told me that not only would I desert him, but that before the rooster would crow greeting the day that I, specifically me, that I would deny him three times. I vehemently promised that I would not...that even if it meant that I had to suffer and die with him, that I would never deny him, everyone echoed my promise. Jesus asked us to go with him then to the garden. He often went there to pray. So we went. On our way to the garden, he paused and told several of the disciples to wait while he took James, John, and myself further on. We could tell that he was getting restless and bothered...he even told us his heart was grieving and He asked us to stand watch while he prayed. He went just a little further and we heard Him praying fervently to the Father...he prayed for quite some time, and many of us fell asleep rather than staying on watch. He roused us, and we could sense the disappointment in his voice as He asked us why we could not stay awake. He asked us to watch with him just a while longer while he finished praying...and yet we fell asleep again...again we disappointed the One who had never disappointed us. Then, without warning, Judas showed up, soldiers, chief priests, slaves, and servants...all holding torches, clubs, and swords. Judas walked up to Jesus and kissed him on the cheek, suddenly those with him began to surround Jesus. "No," I shouted, pulling out my sword and swiftly slicing off the ear of one of the servants. Then, rather than rally us to fight, Jesus looked at me and rebuked me once more, telling me to put my sword away...that I was interfering with what God had allowed to come to pass, that I was trying to prevent the words of the prophets from being fulfilled. They arrested him, and I, with the other ten, did just what he said, we dispersed and disappeared, that we might not be arrested with him. I was ashamed...but I was not brave. Staying in the shadows, I followed as they hauled Jesus off. They took him to the Sanhedrin. They went through the crowds in the courtyard where I was hiding. They were trying to find someone to testify against him, and when they couldn't find any honest folks to testify against Jesus, they began to bribe folks to bear false witness. I remained hidden and silent. When all the guards and members of the Sanhedrin went inside, I slid out of the shadows. It was cold there in the dark. I drew next to one of the courtyard fires to try and get warm. A young girl approached me. I don't know who she was. She declared that she knew I had been with Jesus. I blew her off, "You don't know what you're talking about." I moved to another fire, closer, this time, to where Jesus was being tried. Another girl came up and said that she had seen me with Jesus. I openly declared, "I promise you I do not know this man you are talking about." Moments later, one of the folks that had been standing near me in the courtyard said that because of my Galilean accent, there was no doubt that I was part of Jesus' crowd. Then, before I could think what I was doing, I used language that I hadn't used since I left my nets behind on my father's boat, cursing the man out, and once again declaring that I did not know this Jesus they were talking about. The words had barely faded from my lips when I heard the rooster begin crowing. Jesus had known. He had known that I would desert Him, that I would deny Him, that I would fail to stand with Him. I fled the fires and the courtyard, tears streaming from my face. I had denied my friend, I had denied my teacher, I had denied the Messiah, and before the day's end, they would crucify Him, never giving me the chance to ask His forgiveness. As I think about it now, I realize that I had denied Him all night long-when I tried to refuse to let him wash my feet I was denying to His efforts to serve me; when I pulled out my sword and struck the servant's ear, I denied Him as Teacher for He had taught us to turn the other cheek; when I turn and fled with the others, I denied that the one who had let me walk on water, would keep me safe from the mob that had gathered to arrest Him. And then, thinking only of myself and only of my life, when accused of being connected to Him, I denied even knowing who he was. How often do we still deny Him? How often do we deny His Lordship over our lives, knowing what He taught-about acceptance, about forgiveness, about loving our neighbors, about loving God above all else, about serving and sacrifice-and then we still do whatever we want to-we hold grudges, we seek vengeance, we make fun of, or even mistreat, those who are different from us, we refused to serve anyone other than ourselves, we refuse to stand up against injustice or remain silent as others are maligned, we readily spread gossip, and often, we only have time for God when there is not something else we can be doing. How often do we deny Him as our Savior, as we try to save ourselves or we believe that some other person, some celebrity, some politician, someone other person around us can save us or save our faith. How often do we deny Jesus as our Shepherd, our Provider, as we grumble more about what we do not have, envy what others have, rather than being content with and sharing what He has provided. Sadly, I think we have all denied Jesus and His work in our lives. And here is the bad news, Jesus said, "Everyone therefore who acknowledges me before others, I also will acknowledge before my Father in heaven; but whoever denies me before others, I also will deny before my Father in heaven." Yet, here is the good news. Despite my denying Jesus, despite the fact that I deserted Him, He came back to me, He prepared and shared a meal with me, He called me aside and asked me if I loved Him, He forgave me. He's come here for you tonight. He's prepared a meal for you as well, just like the one we had that Passover night. He's here to offer His forgiveness...His mercy...His love. Do you love Him? Receive His body...receive his blood....receive His grace... In the Name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen. Peter's Denial Matthew 26:69-75