Jun 28 2019 Luke 22: 31-38

'Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death!'

So said Peter the night Jesus was arrested. In response, Jesus offered his, “before the cock crows…” Peter absolutely believed this – that he’d go to his death and prison for Jesus. And eventually all of that was true. But not before he denied knowing Christ, and abandoning him at his execution. 

What is it about our words and deeds, that make it so hard to do what we say, or follow through with what we believe we’ll do? What was it about that night that made Peter deny knowing Jesus? Maybe it was the newness and rawness of Jesus’ imminent prosecution and death. Maybe Peter was in shock, but not in shock of Jesus’ fate, but of Peter’s inability to fix it.

If my thinking is any indication, I might be more in shock at my absolute impotence at this horrible situation. I would do anything for you, Jesus. I’d go to prison. I’d follow you to death. I’m loyal. You don’t need to die. Let me at ‘em. I’ll fix this. Jesus repeatedly tells them, and perhaps Peter most of all, that no, there’s nothing they can do. 

Faced with the reality of his inability to fix this, Peter runs away. He needs to be far away from this reminder of his false sense of fixedness. I can’t just stand there and watch you go through this. Maybe there as a little self-preservation too, but I think that played a minor part. He didn’t have that concern when he was crucified.

Jesus didn’t need Peter to fix anything. Didn’t need Peter to prevent anything. Jesus needed Peter’s companionship, not his heroics. When Peter couldn’t be the hero, he couldn’t, he found he couldn’t be a companion either. 

Often, we’re asked to accompany someone. To sit with them. To love them. Not to fix them. We’ll have our chance to go to bat for someone, as Peter eventually did. But when they ask for our company, that’s what’s needed.

Jesus knew Peter would flee. Peter couldn’t see it or wouldn’t see it. After his resurrection, Jesus asked Peter three times, do you love me? We’ll get it wrong, but Jesus always gives us a chance to make it right. To be a companion. To profess our love. To feed his sheep.
This morning, I’m thinking about how hard it is to acknowledge that I’m not in control, and that I can’t fix everything. About how sometimes it’s easier to deny the problem than simply accompany it. Today, I pray that I recognize that instinct to run, or deny and instead give up the sense of control and just be a companion.