Who's Holding Whom?

Who's Holding Whom?--March 26, 2018

While Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant-girls of the high priest came by. When she saw Peter warming himself, she stared at him and said, “You also were with Jesus, the man from Nazareth.” But he denied it, saying, “I do not know or understand what you are talking about.” And he went out into the forecourt. Then the cock crowed. And the servant-girl, on seeing him, began again to say to the bystanders, “This man is one of them.” But again he denied it. Then after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, “Certainly you are one of them; for you are a Galilean.” But he began to curse, and he swore an oath, “I do not know this man you are talking about.” At that moment the cock crowed for the second time. Then Peter remembered that Jesus had said to him, “Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.” And he broke down and wept. [Mark 14:67-72]
This may sound odd, but the more I think about this scene, the more and more hopeful I am. This story is proof to me that salvation is not so much about my grip on Jesus as it is about Jesus’ grip on me. My grip will fail, will slip, will loosen and get slack. Jesus’, however, never will.

Remember, for a moment, what it was like to be the young child in the department store with your mom or dad. Children are squirrelly enough, just by nature, and then putting them in an environment full of enticements, distractions, and often, toys, makes them even more antsy to get loose and get lost. Sometimes, of course, mom or dad would let you go, knowing they could keep an eye on you from wherever you were. And sometimes, they would insist on holding your hand. And in those moments, it wasn’t really about your grip on mom or dad’s hand that kept you from being lost (or knocking things over, or running the risk of abduction). It was all about their grip on you. If anything, you in all your squirrelly department-store wanderlust made it harder to keep from getting lost, trying to pull away, or dragging behind mom’s pace, or jumping up and down like a monkey while dad shopped. But none of those things could separate you in the end—not even when you let go completely from your side. They still could hold on to you, to keep you safe.

The story of Peter’s three-fold denial of Jesus is evidence to me that things are much the same between us and Jesus. Here in these verses, as painful as they are to read, we see a reflection of ourselves in Peter’s letting go of Jesus’ hand. Let’s be crystal clear about that: Peter leaves no room for ambiguity or uncertainty—he flat out denies Jesus. He has burned the bridges of relationship with his man, his teacher, his rabbi, his lord, repeatedly. Peter not only denies being one of Jesus’ disciples, but even knowing the man. He has, as they say, terminated his rights in relationship to Jesus. And the fact that he does it three times is a sign that, at least in the moment, Peter understood what he was doing and chose to do it to save his own skin. It’s not that Peter misheard the question or misunderstood what they wanted to know. He just doesn’t want to be associated with Jesus anymore, because he is afraid that they’ll string him up, too. In other words, even given multiple opportunities that night to come to his senses, find his courage, and confess his allegiance to Jesus, Peter just doesn’t do it. He fails. He lets go of Jesus, like a kid determined to shake and squirm his way loose of dad’s hand, because he thinks it would be better on his own.

Now, if this reality we call “salvation” were a matter of how tightly we are holding onto Jesus, this should be the end of Peter’s story. And what a damnable end it would be. These are the last words Peter says about Jesus before the cross, the last thing he says about his relationship with Jesus before the Messiah dies. Peter has been given not just one, not just two, but three chances in that night to profess his faith in Jesus and name him as Lord, and with all three, Peter struck out.

And yet, we know that Jesus had not let go of Peter. Not then, not at the resurrection, not ever. For one, when we do get to the story of the empty tomb, the angelic messenger tells the women at the tomb, “But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you.” Peter is included. Peter is, in fact, specially mentioned, as if to say, “Even though Peter thought he had removed himself from the relationship and burned all his bridges with Jesus, Jesus has rebuilt them from his side. Go and tell the disciples he is alive again—and that includes telling Peter.” You see—it is a matter of who is really holding onto whom.

Beyond that, of course, we know from the book of Acts and other New Testament writings that Peter not only continued as a member of the Christian community after the cross and resurrection, but in fact was a central leader of the early church. Jesus did continue to appear, and he met up with Peter and the rest, and poured out his Spirit on all of them, including Peter, and used Peter to bring the Good News to countless thousands. Even though Peter had cut off ties with Jesus and let go of the Messiah’s hand, Jesus never let go of Peter, not even when his hands had nail marks in them.

As the song by Mumford & Sons puts it,

“It seems that all my bridges have been burned/

But you say that’s exactly how this grace thing works/ 

It’s not the long walk home that will change this heart/

But the welcome I receive with the restart.”

Even when the bridges are burnt from our side, that isn’t the end of things between us and Jesus. He’ll walk on the open water to cross over to us. He'll even come back from the dead.

As difficult as it is to see this scene today which shows us Peter at his worst and most cowardly, it is this scene that gives us sure hope that our belonging to Jesus, and our salvation, are matters of how tightly Jesus is holding on to us. For someone with a squirrelly soul and slippery hands like mine, that is good news indeed.

Lord Jesus, never let us go. And with that assurance deep in our hearts, make us never want to leave you. Hold us today, Jesus, with your wounded hands.