Thursday

Peter, Peter . . . so zealous and so mercurial. I know what you were thinking. If you reveal what you know, you'll be arrested, too and that won't help anyone. I bet Jesus even knew that, even understood that. Jesus probably forgave that even as it was happening.

* * * * *

I'll tell you I go to church and then almost apologize. You know how those people are that go to church. And you understand, I'm not that type of church-goer, okay? I mean, if they think I'm that kind of Jesus follower, that won't help evangelism---it's important to know that there are many kinds of people who call Jesus "Lord," right? And if I'm a bit embarrassed by my church, or certain factions of it, that's understandable, right? It just does no one any good to always be shouting, "I follow Jesus."

* * * * *

It sometimes feels like . . . You know, I want to follow Jesus. I find Jesus so compelling, so much like how I wish I could be. Willing to speak truth to power. Willing to trade the facade of power for servanthood. Able to reach out to the undesirables of society and make a difference in their lives. But there's an awful lot of people between me and Jesus at this points. Crowds and crowds, and sometimes I can't see over them to see Jesus. Sometimes there is confusion about where Jesus is leading. "This way," says one person. "No, he went thataway," says another. Some of them are clearly wrong, some are less so. Worst of all, the crowd that is actually following Jesus is sometimes indiscernible from the ones who only think they are. Plants the seed of doubt in my brain as to who I'm actually following.

* * * * *

Peter, I want to shake my head at you, tsk-tsk at you and your unwillingness to speak up for Jesus. I want to berate you for proclaiming your undying allegiance one minute, denying you even know the man a few hours later. But clearly Jesus loved you, even after all the times you got things wrong, even after all the times you missed the point. Jesus loved you enough to know you, really know you, know you well enough to predict exactly what you would do. That is some kind of love. So if I make zealous proclamations one minute and embarrassed apologies the next---could it be that Jesus still loves me, too? Peter, there aren't any of us really worthy of being a role model, except that maybe we might learn the depth and breadth and width of Jesus's love by watching you?