Your Alligator Mouth...

 Critics of Christianity rightly point out that those of us who are church members fail miserably when it comes to practicing what we preach.  I am reminded of a Facebook meme that basically says, “People covered with tatoos and piercings are often some of the nicest people you will meet while those who sit in church pews on Sunday morning are often some of the most judgmental you will meet.”  There is some truth to this saying, although you cannot use it as a blanket statement.  Not all tatooed and pierced people are extremely kind and nice, and not all church attendees are judgmental. 

You simply cannot judge a book by its cover.  But, I think you can easily say that those of us who attend church do not, by any means, live up to the expectations that God has for us.  In fact, we fail miserably.  It is not something to be celebrated, but it is something to be admitted.  It’s part of being humble.  Pride can do an awful lot of damage.  Just look at what happens to Peter.

 Peter is the chief disciple.  Throughout the book of Mark, he’s the guy who is always out spoken.  He’s the one who speaks when no one else will.  He’s the guy who takes action when everyone else seems frozen.  He’s the one who takes risks; who is brash and daring; who is self-confident when everyone else seems weak.  Earlier in Mark’s gospel, Peter has had the audacity to question Jesus and try and put Jesus in His place.  Peter didn’t come out on the good end of that exchange, by the way.  And at the beginning of this chapter, Peter made some brash statements. 

 When the disciples had gathered with Jesus for the Last Supper, Jesus announced that one would betray Him and that all would abandon Him.  Peter confronted Jesus.  “Though all may fall away, I will not abandon you.”  Jesus responds, “Truly I tell you, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.”  Peter doubles down at this moment.  Peter becomes vehement, “If I have to die with you, I will not deny you!”  In a very real way, Peter is chiding Jesus.  Peter is saying, “Jesus, I know myself better than you do.  You can’t tell me I will do this.  You don’t know my heart.  You are absolutely wrong, Jesus.  I know better.”

 Peter is a classic example of two wonderful sayings.  The first: Pride goeth before the fall.  Second: Your alligator mouth is going to get your parakeet rear end in trouble.  (Sorry, I can’t use the real quote in a sermon.)  Both of these statements come to fruition as Jesus’ prophecy about Peter comes true.

 We turn our attention now to our Gospel text as we finish up the 14th chapter of the book of Mark.  Jesus is on trail in the home of Caiaphas–the high priest.  He has been falsely accused.  False witnesses have been presented.  None have been able to agree.  Jesus is more than holding His own.  Caiaphas then asks Jesus, “Are you the Messiah, the Son of the Blessed?”  If Jesus would have remained silent; if Jesus would have lied; He could have saved Himself.  But Jesus would not lie.  Neither would He remain silent at this critical juncture. “I AM,” Jesus says, “And you will see the Son of Man coming with the Power and seated on the clouds.”  This statement is seen as blasphemy, and the court decides to put Jesus to death.

 In stark contrast to Jesus who stands trial without fear and without compromising the truth, we now have Peter.  Mark puts this here intentionally to show us just how different we as humans are from Jesus. 

 Interestingly enough, Peter is there, at the high priest’s house.  When Jesus was arrested in the garden of Getshemane, Peter initially fled, but something within him made him follow.  His brash assertions in the upper room were taking hold, so he knew he had to follow through with his declarations.  He managed to get to the chief priest’s house and follow the proceedings.  However, Peter didn’t anticipate that he would not remain anonymous.

 A servant girl sees Peter warming himself by the fire and says, “You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.”  The girl’s words in Greek are actually strong and contemptuous.  They are better translated, “You were with that Nazarene, Jesus!”  Peter is now put on the spot.  He is now being accused, and the accusation is true.  What will Peter do?  Will he admit his connection with Jesus, or will he seek to save his skin? 

 Peter replies, “I do not know or understand what you are talking about.”  The two Greek words are interesting here.  Literally, the sentence should be translated, “I do not know or know what you are talking about.”  It sounds strange, but you need to know exactly what Peter is saying in the Greek.  You need to know the depths of his denial and his lie.  Mark Edwards says this in his commentary, “Mark’s two Greek verbs for “know” are only an apparent redundancy.  The first (oida) tends to denote theoretical knowledge, and the second (epistamai) practical knowledge; Peter’s denial is thus a total denial–in theory and practice!”  Walter Liefield adds this, “Peter denied her charge by “using the form common in rabbinical law for a formal, legal denial.”  Think about the extent of what Peter says here.  Think about how Peter is essentially covering his tail legally with his denial, AND how Peter unequivocally states that he has no type of knowledge what-so-ever of who Jesus is.  It is a bald faced lie.  An utter and complete denial.  The cock crows the first time.

 Oh, and it gets worse.

 The servant girl is undaunted by Peter’s lie.  She begins working the crowd around Peter.  She tells them that Peter undoubtably was with Jesus, and Peter offers up his second denial. 

 I have to wonder just what continued to transpire here.  Did the servant girl continue to talk with the crowd?  Did they begin working things out for themselves?  Did they question Peter from time to time?  Something must have been going on, because the final time it is not the servant girl who confronts Peter.  It is the crowd itself.  They turn to Peter and say, “Certainly you are one of them; for you are a Galilean.”  How did they know Peter was a Galilean?  The other Gospels report that they heard Peter’s accent.  It would have been like you or me talking in our southern drawl up in New York City.  We would stick out like a sore thumb because of the way we talk.  This is what happened to Peter.  They heard his speech.  They knew Peter was Galilean.  They knew Jesus came from Galilee.  The association was made.  The accusation followed.

 And this time, Peter becomes vehement again.  Mark tells us, “But he began to curse, and he swore an oath, ‘I do not know this man you are talking about.’” Several of the scholars I consulted say that Peter is swearing to God.  Peter is basically saying, “May God rain condemnation upon me if I am lying–I do not know the man.”  Peter is so scared out of his mind that he is calling down the wrath of God upon himself with his lies so utter and complete is his denial of Jesus.

 One calls to mind what Jesus says in Mark chapter 8 verse 38, “Those who are ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”   Or Matthew chapter 10 verses 32-33, “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.”

 The cock crows again.

 Peter realizes what he has done and weeps.  He is a broken man.  He has failed.

 Boy do I know how Peter feels.  Maybe you do too.  I mean, I know that it is the job of every Christian, including myself to proclaim Jesus without reservation.  I know it is the job of every Christian, including myself to unashamedly bring Jesus into the conversation and point to His will in the world.  But when those opportunities arise, my backbone seems to disappear.  You may scratch your head at that because I am a pastor.  Yes, I am, and it is one thing to stand in front of you here this morning and preach where generally I get very little criticism, and another thing to be out in the public interacting with people who could go off and get offended at the drop of a hat. 

 For example, on several occasions, I’ve had people drop the spiritual but not religious card.  They are happy to report that they believe in God, but they just don’t go to church or feel the need to worship or believe that everyone has their own path they need to follow to find God.  I mean, I know what I am supposed to say here.  I know I’m supposed to confront the fallacy in this thinking.  I know I am supposed to gently say, “You know, that’s really a cop out.  That kind of religion costs you nothing.  It’s basically self-affirming, and you are really worshiping a god you created instead of the god who created you.  I know when it comes to the many path approach, I’m supposed to say something to the effect of, “You know, the world’s religions make all sorts of different claims about God.  The Muslims do not believe Jesus was God, but Christians do.  How can they both be correct paths?”  I know I’m supposed to do this.  I know I’m supposed to bear witness, but most of the time, I take the easy way out.  I either don’t say anything or simply say, “Well, that’s interesting.”  I fail to bear witness to Jesus, and I shake my head in bewilderment.  And don’t think that you are off the hook.  We all have a responsibility of doing the same thing.  We all have the responsibility of proclaiming Jesus.

 But we fail.  We don’t measure up, and I believe it’s high time we admit it.  I believe it’s high time we recognize our failure.  And I also believe it’s time that we recognize that growth in faith is a process.  It can and does take many years before we reach that point where we courageously proclaim our faith.  And the good news in this: yes there is good news, is that Jesus shows us the utmost compassion even in our failure.

 I am now going to turn to the book of John to show how this works.  I am going to look at an encounter between the risen Jesus and Peter.  Now, I am going to read this text using the nuances of the Greek because I think it will help us immensely.

 When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me–unconditionally with all your heart--more than these?’ Peter said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you–like a brother.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my lambs.’ A second time he said to him, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me–unconditionally with all your heart?’ He said to him, ‘Yes, Lord; you know that I love you–like a brother.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Tend my sheep.’ He said to him the third time, ‘Simon son of John, do you love me like a brother?’ Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, ‘Do you love me like a brother?’ And he said to him, ‘Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you like a brother.’ Jesus said to him, ‘Feed my sheep. Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger, you used to fasten your own belt and to go wherever you wished. But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will fasten a belt around you and take you where you do not wish to go.’ (He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.) After this he said to him, ‘Follow me.’

 Now, what is the significance of this exchange between Peter and Jesus?  First off, it is a three fold
admission of love paralleling Peter’s three fold denial.  Peter is getting a chance to redeem himself.  Secondly, we see Jesus asking Peter whether or not he loved him with agape love–the unconditional love of one who is willing to lay down one’s life.  And Peter cannot admit this love.  Peter cannot love Jesus in this manner.  Peter cannot get to that point where he loves Jesus as much as Jesus loves him.  And yet, Jesus says, “Feed my lambs; tend my sheep; Feed my sheep.” 

 Then Jesus tells Peter that one day, in the future, Peter will have that kind of love.  Peter one day will suffer and die for Jesus.  Peter one day will be dragged before governors and councils and be threatened with death, and Peter will die with the name of Jesus on his lips.  Peter’s heart is in a process of being transformed.  Fear is not easily overcome, but when you stay rooted and grounded in the gospel, it will be transformed.

 This is the good news for you and me.  God is not done with us yet.  God is still working and moving within us.  God is still in the process of transforming us, but we need to realize this.  We need to realize that we haven’t arrived yet.  We need to realize we still do not proclaim Jesus with our lips.  We need to realize we don’t love Him with our whole heart and mind and soul and strength.  We need to admit our brokenness before him and weep for it.

 For it is in the midst of our brokenness that Jesus dies for us.  It is in the midst of our brokenness that He saves us.  It is in the midst of our brokenness that He lays down His life to redeem us.  And it is His love that will transform that brokenness.  This is the power of the Gospel.  The power of the love of God who came to save the world.  To save you.  To save me.

 “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but that the world might be saved through Him.”

 Do not think too highly of yourself for you continue to deny Jesus.  Do not become too down on yourself because God is still transforming you.  Live in this tension and pray for the day when you will have the confidence to proclaim Jesus without fear.  Amen.

Denial is not Simply a River in Egypt

 I love where my kids are at right now.  They are truly fun.  They are right in that middle zone where they are out of diapers, potty trained, and independent enough to dress themselves and get their own breakfasts.  Yet, they are not quite at puberty, arguably the most trying time for kids and parents.  They are right in the middle, and I am enjoying it while it lasts.

 How enjoyable is it?  In the past month or so, both of my daughters have come up to me separately and said, “You are the best dad in the world.”  It really is a heart-melting moment.  But, do you know what I have done every time?  Folks may question my sanity and parenting style because of what I am going to say next, but I’m going to see how this plays out in the long run.  Each time my girls have said, “You are the best dad in the world,” I have replied, “Thank you sweetie.  I appreciate this and I am going to remember this because in about two or three years, you are probably going to think that I am the dumbest person in the world.”

 Every time I’ve said this, my girls look at me and say, “Daddy!  Why would you say that?”

 I respond, “Because in a few years, you are going to be a teenager, and most teenagers think their parents are dumb and don’t understand anything.”

 My girls have both said, at this point, “Daddy, I don’t ever want to say or think that.”

 I reply, “I hope not either.”  I have hope, but I’m not optimistic.  I remember my own teenage years all to well.  I’ve been around more than a few teenagers since then.  The odds are not in my favor.  Human nature is too powerful.  So I confronted my daughters with this prophecy.  They weren’t happy with it.

 You may wonder why I share this with you.  I share it because I think it is related to the events taking place in our Gospel lesson this morning as we progress through the 14th chapter of the book of Mark. 

 This text follows immediately after the institution of the Lord’s Supper, and as Jesus and his disciples depart the upper room, they do so by singing the hymn.  Now, if this is a Passover meal and they are following the oldest known sequence of this meal, then they were singing what is called the Hallel Psalms.  This would have ended with Psalm 118.  It is an intriguing thought to think that as Jesus left this final meal with his disciples, He would have had these words on his lips:

 The Lord is my strength and song; he has become my salvation.  Shouts of joy and victory resound in the tents of the righteous: “The Lord’s right hand has done mighty things!  The Lord’s right hand has lifted high; the Lord’s right hand has done mighty things!”  I will not die but live and will proclaim what the Lord has done. 

 Think about that with the knowledge that Jesus is now entering into the final hours of leading up to his arrest and crucifixion.  “I will not die but live and will proclaim what the Lord has done.”  Ironic.  Tragic?  Definitely hopeful.

 When everyone reaches the Mount of Olives, Jesus turns to his disciples and says, “You will all become skandalizein.”  Skandalizein is the Greek word that is translated will fall away, be offended, be made to stumble.  Mark Edwards writes in his commentary, “Skandalizein...does not mean that the disciples will willfully defect but that external factors will act upon them and cause them to do so...We do not plan on sinning, but neither do we hold the fort when we ought.”  This is an important point–one that we will come back to in a little while.  But first, we must consider this text more deeply, for Jesus backs up his words by citing Zechariah chapter 13.  “I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.”

 Let me read to you this quote in context from the Old Testament so that you might get more of an idea of what is going on.  Zechariah 13:7-9, 7“Awake, O sword, against my shepherd, against the man who is my associate,” says the Lord of hosts. Strike the shepherd, that the sheep may be scattered; I will turn my hand against the little ones. 8In the whole land, says the Lord, two-thirds shall be cut off and perish, and one-third shall be left alive. 9And I will put this third into the fire, refine them as one refines silver, and test them as gold is tested. They will call on my name, and I will answer them. I will say, “They are my people”; and they will say, “The Lord is our God.”

 Now, let me point out that in this Old Testament passage, it is God Himself who is striking the shepherd.  It is God who is taking this action so that He may purify and refine His people.  It is necessary for the shepherd to be struck down.  Now, the historical situations of Zechariah and Jesus are not the same.  They are not the same at all.  So, Jesus is taking this passage and redefining it to help us, and the disciples understand.  Unfortunately, they will not understand at this point.  Not in the least.  They will not understand until after the cross and resurrection.  For the moment, they are flabbergasted that Jesus would suggest that God would strike Him and that they would scatter.

 Before we get to the disciples’ reaction, let me point out to you a little snippet that even the disciples missed.  They were reeling from what Jesus said, and I am quite convinced they missed hearing Jesus say, “28But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.”  The disciples did not hear this and did not understand this because the notion of an individual resurrection had no thought in their minds.  Nowhere in Jewish literature or thought was there the idea of a resurrected Messiah.  They didn’t understand this.  They didn’t grasp this.  It was foreign, so they focused on what they did know: Jesus said they would all desert him; be scandalized by him; abandon him and be scattered.

 Jesus confronted them, and they didn’t like it.  Peter, being Peter is the first to speak up.  Peter, with his bravado and self-confidence and self-assurance stands against this prophecy.  Peter, the fisherman who had spent hours hauling in nets full of fish, steering boats, who probably had well defined biceps and six-pack abs.  Peter who believes he is tough enough to do anything.  “Lord, even if everyone else deserts you, I will not.”  Peter doesn’t exactly have a high view of his friends, does he?  Peter obviously thinks he’s better than the rest of the disciples here, doesn’t he?  Peter doesn’t like what Jesus said, and so he denies that he will abandon Jesus.

 But Jesus has none of it.  Jesus knows human nature too well.  Jesus knows what he will face.  Jesus knows what Peter will face.  Jesus knows the deep down fear and anxiety.  “Truly I tell you, Peter, before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.”

 “31But he said vehemently, ‘Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you.’ And all of them said the same.”  All of them said the same.  Brash.  Unflinching.  Self-confident and self-assured.  Arrogant.  Remember last week when I said that betraying a friend after eating a meal with them was considered the worst kind of treachery in the Middle East?  Jesus has essentially said that all of the disciples would do this.  Judas would be the betrayer, but all would fall away.  No one wanted to take part in such treachery.  No one wanted to fall away.  All wanted to stand.  All asserted that they would stand.  Confident in their strength, they wrote checks with their words that they would not be able to cover.  They sought to justify themselves before Jesus

 And how we love to do the same thing.  How we love to justify ourselves and revel in our own strength and self-confidence and self-assurance.  How we love to pat ourselves on the backs and tell ourselves that we are strong enough to stick by our choices.  How we vehemently promise to God, to our friends and family, and to ourselves that we will do things differently; be better; do more.

 • I can quit drinking anytime I want.
 • I won’t get angry with you anymore.
 • I won’t go to those websites anymore.
 • I will eat healthier.
 • I will exercise regularly.
 • I will go to church more often.
 • I will give more to charity.
 • I will spend more time with my kids.
 • I am in charge of my life, and I will do better.

 And it all sounds good until you don’t.  Until you fall right back into the same habits; same routines; same behaviors.  And when we are confronted?  When someone points out that our words do not match up with what we are doing?  What do we do?  Let me tell you what I do.  I am the king of excuses.  I am very good at blame displacement.  I can give you a million reasons why the circumstances around me have led me to say what I say and do what I do.  In the famous words of the German theologian, pastor and martyr Dietrich Bonhoeffer, I am all too ready to “justify my sin instead of proclaim the justification of the sinner.”

 But Jesus doesn’t let us get away with that.  Jesus knows us too well.  He will confront us in our sin.  He will confront us with how he knows we will act.  Because He knows the end results.  We will see those results in due time.  We will see Peter’s denial.  We will hear the rooster crow.  We will see the disciples flee.  We will even hear about how one of them was caught by his clothes and wiggling free ran away naked and ashamed.

 And if we ever run into the real Jesus, we will find ourselves standing in front of Him naked and ashamed as well.  We will stand before Him and know that we have missed the mark.  We will deeply know our hypocrisy.  We will know how our self-confidence and arrogance led us to say things we should not have said and do things we should not have done.  We will know how we were never better than others despite a desperate want to be so.  We will know shame even though we have spent more than our fair share of time trying to avoid feeling shameful.  We will know how we turned our backs on Jesus and we will know that the right thing for Him to do is turn his back on us. 

 But, at that moment, when we know that He should turn His back upon us, we realize the significance of those words from Zechariah 13.  “I will strike the shepherd...”  The shepherd will be struck down.  The Good Shepherd will be struck down as He lays His life down for the sheep.  Jesus, the Good Shepherd will be struck down as He lays down His life for His disciples–for you.  For when you stand before Jesus, you will know beyond a doubt that you are not worthy to be in His presence.  You will know you are not worthy to be in God’s presence.  You are unholy.  You are broken, battered, torn.  You deserve the wrath of God–to have God turn His back upon you.  But the Good Shepherd intercedes.  He takes upon Himself your sin, your guilt, your shame.  He faces God’s anger and wrath in your place.  He has God turn God’s back against Him. 

 Standing in Jesus’ presence naked and ashamed waiting for Him to turn His back on us, He stretches out His arms and dies for us–in our place, pouring His life out for us in an act of wondrous love.  He clothes us with new garments of dazzling white as He says, “You are forgiven.  I have paid the price for your self-assurance; your self-confidence; your arrogance.  I have covered in action what you could not do yourself.  I lay down my life for you because I love you.”

 This is the Good News.  For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life.  For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but that the world might be saved through Him.”  God did not send Jesus to condemn you, but to save you.  And He will go before us to gather us together once again.  The sheep that are scattered will be drawn back to the Good Shepherd, and they will be vastly different. 

  At the end of the book of Mark, after the resurrection.  The same young man who ran away naked and ashamed is found in the tomb.  He is found fully clothed in a garment of pure white.  He unashamedly pronounces that Jesus has been raised from the dead.  This young man has been transformed by what Jesus has accomplished for him.  And this transformation happened to the rest of the disciples as well.  When they came in contact with the risen Lord, it changed them greatly.  Whereas they once deserted Jesus and ran from persecution, as they proclaimed the good news of His death, they later embraced persecution and even death.  They refused to run any longer.  Death, fear, anxiety no longer had power over them.  How is it that they were able to overcome these things which oftentimes still have power over us?  They didn’t trust in themselves to stand up to these things.  They didn’t trust in their own power and understanding.  They trusted in Jesus.  They trusted in what Jesus had done. They trusted in His love; in His mercy; in His grace.  They knew if they tried to have confidence in themselves, they would fail once again.  And so, they trusted in Jesus.  Their hearts rested in Jesus and His work.  And here is further good news for you and me.

 It happened to the disciples, and it can happen to us.  We too can know that type of transformation.  We too can face the challenges of life with much less fear and anxiety and worry.  But we have to stand being confronted by Jesus.  We have to stand knowing that we are broken.  We have to stand before Him and know that we have fallen short of His expectations.  We must know our weakness and failure, but we must also know Jesus’ deep love.  We must also know how much this God incarnate was willing to go through to show us how much we are loved and cherished.  You see, if you know you have failed but you also know you are deeply loved, your heart and life changes.  Arrogance, self-assuredness, self-confidence, and brashness are replaced by deep humility.  Fear, anxiety, and worry, are replaced by hope and trust that Jesus will see you through.  You brag less; love more; rest your confidence in Jesus instead of yourself; and seek as many opportunities as possible to worship the one who laid down His life for you.  When you realize the Good Shepherd was struck down for you and that He now seeks to gather you in, your life and heart is changed.  Rest in His grace, love, and mercy.  Amen.