Reliving The Passion #12

Mark 14:26–31

And when they had sung a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.

And Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away; for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”

Peter said to him, “Even though they all fall away, I will not.”

And Jesus said to him, “Truly, I say to you, this very night, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.”

But he said vehemently, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.”

And they all said the same.

Hey, look me over, Lord! Check me out! I know I wasn’t worth much before—but I’ve changed, right? I’m your solid citizen now, a solid Christian, loving you and trusting you, forgiving my neighbor as I would be forgiven. Why, I’ve confessed your name at work, and you know how grim those guys can be. But they know I’m a Christian. They don’t curse near me no more. Feel my muscle! Bigger, right? I’m your man! Hey, I’m your disciple!

(So says the self-satisfied Christian.

(No one can see in the night, but he’s wearing a beatific expression and strutting rather like a rooster. There are eleven others strung out and strolling down the dark road. This one has taken the lead beside a smaller man whose whole manner is slow and broken by sorrow. The smaller man says—)

You will all fall away.

Whoa! You can’t mean that! Not all of us. Not me! I mean, okay: I know folks who could care less about you, right? Skip church, don’t pray but when there’s trouble, love their cars more than you. They say they’re Christian, but when it comes to the crunch they drop you, Jesus. I pray. I do—daily and long, because I love you! I go to church. I serve on seven boards. I tithe, I fast (though no one knows but you)—I mean, I really practice my faith! I visit people in the county jail, right? Look, even though everyone else falls away, I won’t!

(The small man halts, forcing the strong one to stop and be still. To him sadly, to him particularly, the small man says—)

Truly, this very night before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.

No! No, you don’t know me! Oh, Jesus, how can you doubt me like that? Me, of all people! Me, who loves you the most! Don’t I always speak up for you? Okay, okay—what should I do to prove my love? Tell me! You want me to quit my job? Sell everything? Become a missionary? I mean it! You want me to die for you? I will, Lord. I promise, I will. But I’ll never, never deny you!

(The smaller man turns and continues to walk through the night, silently. He does not answer the vehemence of the strong disciple. He will let actions speak for themselves.

(For he knows the strong man very well.

(And better than any, he understands the relationship of faith: that if anyone continues in loving relationship with him, it is his love that preserves it, not the love of the other, nor all the piety, nor all the goodness a Christian can muster.

(The big disciple, truly wounded by his Lord’s mistrust, keeps muttering—)

I love you, Jesus. I really do love you—

(And he does—as many Christians do! But great love risks a greater pride. For the very strength of their loving sometimes dazzles and flatters them—until they trust that love more than its Lord. But their loving response to Jesus, however strong, is always exactly that: a response to Jesus, empowered by Jesus. He enables the loving!

(And even now, near the Mount of Olives, his sad eyes say—)

Peter, Peter, Christian! Soon, in pain, you will discover that it’s not your love, not your goodness or knowledge or prayer, no, not all your strength that keeps us together. I do that. I alone, your Lord, do that.

Jesus,

Make me meek, that I may be strong in you.

Amen.