denial

Not My Will

~ mercyfortheday ~ Leave a comment

Imagine being Jesus.  Sitting there, eating his final meal with his twelve closest friends.  The men he chose.  The men he handpicked to help spread his story.  His brothers.  His confidants.  His disciples.  And he knew.  He knew that before the night was over, two of those men would turn against him.  Two of his handpicked men would put aside the past three years of hard work.  To save themselves.  Yet he let it happen.  He welcomed them to the table and ate with them.  Oh.  He warned them both.  One of you will betray me and turn me over to be arrested.  The other will deny knowing me.  And still he ate with them.  Still He loved them.  He let them make the decision.  He let them choose their path.

Just hours before Peter denied knowing Christ, he had helped John prepare the Last Supper.  The Passover meal.  Jesus had asked Peter to get the meal ready, knowing that a few hours later Peter would deny  him.  Judas went to that meal having set his betrayal in motion.  He had already turned himself over to Satan.  He had already arranged a deal to hand Jesus over to the authorities.  Jesus knew.  But he welcomed Judas all the same.  When he told Peter what he would do,  Peter vehemently argued that he would never deny knowing Jesus.  He said he would go to prison or die first.

The thing is.  Jesus knew his disciples’ decisions would lead him down a dark path of suffering.  He knew those decisions would help lead him to his death.  But he didn’t stop it.  He could have chosen to stop his suffering.  After all.  He is God’s son.  But he knew his life purpose was to suffer and die for everyone.  Including those two men.

Even my close friend, someone I trusted, one who shared my bread, has turned against me.  Psalm 41:9

Just this week, I felt betrayed.  I felt abandoned.  I felt like I was treated unfairly.  Thrown to the wolves.  That’s how it felt.  And it stings.  It cuts to the core.  It leaves you reeling and wondering where to turn.  When trust is suddenly no longer within reach, what do you do?  But Jesus held steady.  He knew he would suffer.  He knew the path he was on.  He knew the road he was taking was not easy.  Yet he took it willingly.  He even died on that path.

Oh. Jesus prayed.  He asked God to remove the path of suffering from him.  He was in great agony over it.  But there was no other way.  He knew that.  He surrendered to his Father.  Your will.  Not mine.
Sure.  God could have spared me from this hurt.  But he didn’t.  I’ve been asking him to show me if I was where I belonged.  For the past two years, I have prayed that God would remove the people who didn’t belong.  I didn’t realize I was praying that prayer for myself.  That wasn’t my intent.  But God knew.  He allowed the situation to happen.  He’s giving me the opportunity to learn new lessons and gain new experiences from my loss.
Oh.  It hurts.  The path I’ve been given isn’t one of my choosing.  It’s a path I’ve been down before.  More than once.  I survived the journey before, and I will survive again.  But the path is uncertain.  I have no choice but to take this journey.
I’m all in.  No matter what lies ahead..

Denial

~ mercyfortheday ~ Leave a comment

He knew he had messed up as soon as he heard the rooster crow. As he turned his head, he saw Jesus look at him.  The look said it all.  Jesus had told him that he would do it.  And he had vehemently denied that he would ever.  But he did it.  He denied his Lord.  Not once.   Not twice.  But three times.  Before the rooster crowed.  Just as Jesus said he would.

Jesus had been arrested.  Peter had followed.  Keeping tabs on his Lord that night.  Waiting to see what would happen after the arrest.  The girl noticed him.  She called him out.  You were with the man.  No. I. Wasn’t.  That’s what Peter said three times.  Each time he was noticed, he said it.  I never knew Him.

After he heard the rooster, he left and wept bitterly.  He had just denied his Lord.  What was he to do now?  Was he worthy of forgiveness?  Did he even dare ask?

Then I remember.  I too denied Him.  It wasn’t my intention.  But I did it without hesitation.  Why?  Fear of being ridiculed.  Fear of new expectations.  Wanting to fit in.  Wanting to be liked.  But what was I willing to give up for that denial?  What was worth it?

After all, the timing was so wrong when Peter denied Jesus.  Jesus had just told the disciples that he was days away from dying.  Did they not realize that he was dying for them?  I knew he had died for me when I denied him.  I had already pledged my life to him.  But I still didn’t hesitate.  What was I really afraid of?  What relationship was more important to me?  My relationship with my friends?  Or my relationship with him?  None of my friends had offered their life for me.  In fact, the new boy was probably planning to ridicule anyone who had said they were a follower of Jesus.  So I knew he wouldn’t die for me.  And no one else in the group offered.

I remember my denial.  Seventh grade.  Walking with a group of classmates.  The new boy asked the question.  Is anybody here religious?  Everybody pointed to me.  No.  I’m not.  I said.  Oh.  I get it.  People don’t know the difference between being religious and being a Christian.  But I knew what he was asking.  I denied it.  I wanted to fit in.  I didn’t want people calling me names or treating me differently.  And with that response everyone kept walking.  The conversation was over.  But I knew.  I knew in my heart that I should have stood up for what I believed.  I shouldn’t have been afraid to share my young faith.   I’ve never forgotten that conversation.  And I wonder how things would have turned out if I had been bold.

I wonder what the other kids saw in me that made them point me out.  Was it because they knew my family went to church?  What was it they saw that was different?  Was it the clothes I wore?  Was it my actions?  Was it words I said?  Or didn’t say?

Oh Peter.  How could you.  How could you deny your Savior.  Your Lord.  Your Master.  He knew you would and you told him never.  Never would you deny him.  But he knew you would.  And when the deed was done.  Not once.  But three times.  Three times in the matter of a few hours.  You were heartsick.   You were broken.  How was it so easy to deny at the moment when someone noticed you.

Oh.  Yes.  People notice.

Jesus replied, “I tell you the truth, Peter—this very night, before the rooster crows, you will deny three times that you even know me.”  Matthew 26:34

Jesus could have said.  I told you so.  Instead, he just turned and looked at Peter. The look said enough.  Sorrow.  Betrayal.  Did Peter also see the love and forgiveness? Perhaps not in that moment.

He had heard those words just hours earlier.  You will betray me.  As soon as they were said, they were forgotten.

Peter was too caught up in the moment.  He witnessed Jesus’ arrest.  His beating.  His trial.  Oh.  He watched Jesus that night.  From a distance.  He watched with caution.  Not wanting others to notice him.  But they did notice.

I’m a fair weather fan of a certain football team.  If they’re winning, I’m all in.  If they’re not playing well, well I’m not watching.  I can’t bear to see them fall apart and lose.  I wouldn’t dare attend a game.  After all, I’d hate to show my true colors if my team isn’t winning.  I wouldn’t want others to see me turn away in despair.

That’s how I see Peter.  Oh.  He loves Jesus.  He’s a follower.  He said he was willing to die for him.  When the ministry is going well.  But when the opposition shows up, he supports from the sidelines.  He doesn’t want to appear to be in the game.  Now it’s a spectator sport.

Until he’s caught.  Someone recognizes him and calls him out.  Without even thinking about it, he denies everything he once held so dear  In a split second, when he could stand for something he falls in defeat.  Three times.

I have faced tests since that moment in my youth.  Some I passed.  Others I failed.  I don’t know.  I will face another test some day.  I’m sure of it.  If so, my prayer is that my faith will be strong and my courage unwavering .