The Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu, right outside Jerusalem,
has a statue in the courtyard commemorating Peter’s betrayal of Jesus. At the
top of the column that centers the statue, around which the portrayals of
Jesus, Peter, a Roman soldier, and the maid to whom Peter voices his
renouncements of knowledge of Jesus illustrate that event, a rooster crows,
stretching his neck, forever announcing to Peter that yes, indeed, he, Peter,
who had so vowed loyalty to his Lord, had betrayed Jesus with no thought, no
hint of a hesitation, for anything but his own safety during the trial of
Jesus.
A rooster.
I wonder if that is the symbol by
which Peter would want his name remembered in that Land of Faith—a foul fowl,
like the one who crowed so triumphantly announcing Peter’s shame and failure.
On that night so long ago, as the
ancient cock crowed his call to waken, Scripture tells us that Jesus turned and
looked at Peter, two sets of brown eyes meeting, speaking without words across
the paving stones that separated them. Peter, as the sound of the rooster hit
his hears, looked into Jesus’ eyes, remembered Jesus’ foretelling of that
betrayal Peter had just concluded—and, in shame, fled. Where he spent the
next two, long, harrowing days—and nights—Scripture does not tell us. How he
survived inside himself, we do not know. Who found him, hiding, sobbing
out his disgrace, knowing his friends and fellow disciples now knew of his
betrayal of Jesus? Who comforted him, tried to make him know that Jesus would
never want him to bear that shame forever?
Or, did anyone?
We do know that on Sunday morning, he and John, together, ran to
the tomb to check for sure that Jesus had left His grave, as Mary Magdalene had
told them. Though the younger John outran Peter and arrived first at the empty
tomb (John makes sure to let us know this in his gospel account; “I got
there before Peter!!”), Peter entered the tomb first. John doesn’t tell us what
stopped him at the door; perhaps his youth, maybe fear held him up, and Peter—maybe
forgetting his shame and agony in his astonishment at Mary’s news—reverted to
type and ploughed on in, taking no thought for consequences, determined to see
if, truly, Jesus had risen from the dead, seeing the empty tomb, going away,
dazzled, dumbstruck, wondering what this could mean.
And, if not here in this tomb, where, exactly, was Jesus?
They learned, of course, that Jesus was……with them. He appeared to
hundreds of people after his resurrection. At one point, He came to Peter as
Peter and friends (disciples, like himself, waiting to figure all this out)
fished. Jesus helped a bit with their catch, fixed them breakfast.
We do not know all the conversation of that meal, but when they
finished, Jesus asked Peter, “Peter, do you love me?” After his humiliation,
after his tears, after the heartbreak he had felt, brought on by his own
unintended actions, Peter must have jumped at the chance to answer, “Yes, Lord!
I love you!”
“Feed my sheep.”
Then Jesus asked Peter the same question again, after Peter’s
positive answer, gave him the same reply, and yet again asked Peter, “Do you
love Me?” By this time, a frustrated Peter said, “Lord, You know I love
You!” Jesus calmly repeated his answer, “Feed my sheep,” but from the
perspective of 2000 years, we might ask Peter if, really, shouldn’t he lose any
semblance of attitude? After all, just a small time before, he had sworn
allegiance to this same Jesus—albeit a pre-resurrection Jesus—and then betrayed
him three times. Many scholars believe the three times Jesus asked Peter about
loving Him corresponded to the three betrayals of Peter…..
But, even as I entertain the thought, “Did Peter really have to be
so….snippy to Jesus?” I remember that moment today when, again, I acted against
what I know to be God’s will, oh, in a small matter for sure….except, can there
be such a small……betrayal?
And down the corridor of history, carried on the air of the
continued Presence, quietly, but oh, so clearly, I hear the crow of a rooster.
And I know that I, too, in acts perhaps not so blatant to the
world, but glaringly clear to the One Who matters, have let down my Lord,
denied knowledge of His grace to live in freedom and blessing, outside of
circumstance, yet again surrendering to impulses I long to rise above.
Immediately, I feel the hurt of my failure.
Again.
Who am I to criticize Peter?
If this occurrence happened only to me, or only in our time,
perhaps hope would lie buried under guilt for us all. But, even 2000 years ago,
the towering Apostle Paul said, “For what I am doing, I do not understand;
for I am not practicing what I would like to do, but I am
doing the very thing I hate.” (Romans 7:15) Better men (well, people) than I
have fallen to this frustration.
There is no count on my failings; again and again I ‘miss the
mark,’ do the thing I swear I will not, castigate myself for those failures……
Ah…..but like Peter, I do not have to stay hidden away, buried in
disgrace. Unlike Peter, I do not have to wait the weekend...the road for me is
short…a simple prayer away.
“Forgive me.” The Apostle John, he who ran faster than Peter
getting to the empty tomb, in later life said, “If we confess our sins, He is
faithful to forgive our sins and cleanse us.” (1 John 1:9) Paul
also declares, “Who will set me free from the body of
this death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!”
(Romans 7:24-25)
Redemption shines more clearly than the guilt; Peter, Paul, John
all point to the risen Christ as the source for freedom from blame and
self-reproach.
“Forgive me.” As the rooster call echoes through the centuries, so
to do Jesus’ words to Peter, forgiven, cleansed, restored to his Lord, “Feed my
sheep.” And I hear the Spirit delicately breathe across my heart…..”Feed My
sheep…..”
Forgive those who hurt you, forgive, finally forgive…….
Turn the other cheek…..
Love……
Comfort……
Give…..
Do not keep accounts of wrongdoing…..
Care for……
“Feed My sheep.”
Forgiveness comes with greater purpose than expunging guilt…it
comes for sharing Love. Oh how I
wish knowledge automatically meant change in behavior and feelings. Fortunately,
the Cross brings endless forgiveness….I must just ask…..and ask…..and ask….and
acknowledge, after each asking, the work completed, forgiveness given; truly,
easier said than done.
Brother Lawrence said, "When I fail in my duty, I readily
acknowledge it, saying, 'I am used to doing so; I shall never do otherwise if I
am left to myself'. If I fail not, then I give God thanks, acknowledging that
the strength comes from Him." It is not new, this asking forgiveness….this
restoration. Others before….others before…others before…that I would not
spurn the lessons given by them.
Peter went on to preach the soaring sermon at Pentecost, start the
Church, be a leader, pen some of the New Testament, and refuse to die as Jesus
did, requesting instead a crucifixion upside down, not feeling worthy to suffer
and die as Jesus had.
But, I don’t think he minds, from his now-celestial perspective,
that atop the pillar in the courtyard of the church bearing his name just
outside Old Jerusalem, the rooster eternally crows. For, without such a
magnificent fall, would Peter ever have understood such towering grace? Would
he have acquired the assurance to promise us that this “great mercy” Jesus
gives us all through His resurrection leads us to “an inheritance which
is imperishable and undefiled and will not fade away, reserved
in heaven for you”? (I Peter 1:3-4) I believe Peter would tell us that sharing
with us all—those then, those since, us now, the ones who follow us—the
restoration provided by Jesus made the pain and dishonor worth it all.
And, after the reconciliation, the crow of a rooster must have
changed a meaning for him, that Apostle called “The Big Fisherman.” Instead of
knocking him down with grief, when he heard the crowing later in his life, he
must have smiled, lifted his face, and acknowledged the forgiveness he found
from the words of the Lord of us all……
So, now, when I hear that echo, when the rooster calls to me from
a night 2000 years ago, I pray God will use it as a clarion call, first to bow
and pray a “Forgive me,” then to hear the specific way His “Feed my sheep”
applies for that moment.
And, as one of the “cloud of witnesses” of Heaven described in
Hebrews 12:1, perhaps Peter smiles.
