New Thoughts (01/24/12-01/28/12)
As we consider the very different accounts of this exchange between Jesus and His disciples, it’s important to recognize the very human tendency to lock onto the key moments in the midst of such shock and confusion as these men must have been coping with. Chronology was barely a concern for the historians of the era. It was no concern whatsoever for those men seeking to capture the importance of what they’d been through. That said, there is certainly nothing in any of the accounts that needs to be explained away as contradicting the others. In fact, as one considers the four gospels on this occasion, we find what was a casual aside in one account taking on greater significance due to what is said in another.
We are left, if so inclined, to read between the lines a bit, to sift the four accounts together, seeking those things in one that might hint at how it pieces together with another. This necessarily leads to a degree of supposition that ought to give rise to caution. I must not allow my imagination to lay more freighted meaning upon a conjectured correlation of accounts than is truly present in the text. As I have been reminded by teaching 2 John, I am required to bound my own truth claims by the Truth that is in Scripture, to teach nothing that is not given me to teach by the Son of God, Jesus Christ. I am not permitted to give imagination free rein, but only to allow imagination, guided by my Advisor, the Holy Spirit, to serve as a tool for understanding what Scripture actually has to impart.
For my part, I find the particulars of Luke’s account to be most crucial not only for understanding the overall scene, but also for application to my own here and now. I suppose one ought to expect this, given Luke’s careful searching out of the record. Of course he would arrive at the core issue. Matthew and Mark were nearer events, recording memories still fresh and still able to shock even many years later. These were, in one degree or another, personal accounts. To record that conversation was to relive the moment, with all its high emotion. As for John, he always strikes me as seeking to fill in the gaps left by those who had already written out their own accounts of Jesus. Granted, he has a very unique perspective, having been through the exile to Patmos and having been vouchsafed the visions of the Revelation. But, he was not inclined to revisit the details others had already recounted except as those details were entirely necessary to his own account. He was far more inclined, it seems, to make certain that these other significant aspects of those three years did not get lost. There were those events that only he and perhaps one or two others had been witness to. There were those insights that were specific to his own perspective and history, and the Church, which had certainly become more and more important to him as the years went by, would be much the poorer for the loss of his account.
But, it remains Luke that captures me, that drives this scene to the core of me, insists that I consider its implications not for eleven men in a room somewhere in old Jerusalem so many ages ago, but here, now, for me in the present day. One of the first things that jumps out at me in that recounting is that Jesus has stopped referring to Simon as Peter for this one moment. But, as I take to the concordance I am surprised again. It seems the exception case in this regard is that Jesus speaks to him as Peter in Luke 22:34. I expect that Jesus would be speaking to him by that name He had given him, but it appears from what we have in Scripture that He continued to call him Simon when speaking to him. It was his fellow disciples, it seems, who had taken to using that name Jesus had given him, and that likely came about at a later date.
So, then, while the initial address of “Simon, Simon,” captures my attention, it is really the, “I say to you, Peter,” that has what significance there may be. There is, however, the significance of repeating his name. That certainly remarks on Jesus’ care and love for Peter, particularly in light of the message He is about to deliver. This is quite significant. It had occurred to me to wonder at the uncharacteristically circumspect Peter that was in view as Jesus spoke of the betrayer in their midst. Here, for once, he had not been willing to act the spokesman. Here, for once, he remained silent, and if one thinks on that, it is cause to scratch one’s head. Perhaps he was still smarting from the mistake about the foot washing. Perhaps he was feeling too chagrined by that embarrassment to chance another. But, something about the shift in what Jesus was saying brings him back to his normal outspokenness.
I confess my first reaction to Peter in this scene is that he is full to the brim with pride, and with a pride so clearly undeserved. If it were pride, then one might view Jesus’ direct statement of his approaching failure as a smackdown. But, then it occurred to me to consider my own likely response to what has been said. Remember that Jesus began by speaking of that one amongst their number who would betray Jesus into the hands of those who would kill Him. Remember, also, that with the possible exception of John, nobody had understood that Jesus had singled out Judas as the man who would do these things. For most in the room, this was still a hanging question, who Jesus meant. There was, of course, the very typical, very male response of preening and loud denials. Of course it’s not me, you can all see how committed I am to this ministry! My performance has been above rebuke! Ah, but then Peter has not been above rebuke, has he? He has not been a turncoat, certainly, nor has he shied away from what Jesus has commanded. But, he’s certainly been rebuked. He was rebuked just a short while ago!
So, now Jesus has broadened the scope of His charges. All of you are going to desert Me. Satan has demanded (and presumably received) permission to test you all so thoroughly that you will indeed flee the scene. OK. It was addressed to everybody, sure. But, why had Jesus felt it necessary to pin that “Simon, Simon” on the front? See, I’m not certain that any one of these accounts manages to give us the conversation with exactitude. I think we must recognize that the things each has remembered must be interleaved. As such, I can suppose that the specific point Jesus then makes to Peter, which seems so immediate in Luke’s accounting, may actually have come after some of the other expressions of consternation. For example, the comment Jesus makes that they will all fall away is likely to have been pretty firmly connected to the point about Satan demanding permission to instigate just such an action.
Peter, it strikes me, may have been sufficiently self-aware as to suppose that maybe, by introducing this new point with his name prefixed so, Jesus was singling him out as that betrayer He had spoken of earlier. Can it be that Peter was sensing, in spite of that brave defense he and the others were throwing up, that it could very well be himself that Jesus meant. Maybe I am capable of stooping so low. I’ve been so wrong about things before, and after all, it is Jesus saying this. Surely, if He has said we shall desert Him, as incredible and impossible as it seems, can I really doubt we will? But, why? Why has He spoken to me specifically even as He is speaking to us all? Why am I being singled out here? You see, I begin to think that the forcefulness of his denial has less to do with pride and more to do with fear – fear that it might be true, that he might indeed be that betrayer Jesus was speaking of.
Imagine! It’s no longer the conjectural, “it could have been me.” It’s no longer theoretical. He can’t distance it from himself by so much. Now, it’s really beginning to feel like, “it is me!” In spite of whatever conflicting ideas he might have about himself, however he would like to believe it impossible for him to be so vile, yet he knows, deep down, that it’s not beyond him. And with that acknowledgement comes the fear that it won’t be beyond him, that he will be the one. So, it’s a certain defensiveness we might choose to hear in all that vehemence with which Peter rejects this verdict. No way, Lord! Never! It is beyond possibility that I should desert you. There is nothing they could threaten us with that would move me from your side! These others? Can’t speak for them, perhaps You’re right about them, but not me. It can’t be me.
Before we get too down on Peter for this defensiveness, there is something we ought to note. I expect to ponder it further nearer its place in the narrative, but keep it in view now: First, Mark gives us the clue that this was not a one time outburst. He kept saying this (Mk 14:31). Second, he was not alone. Everybody else was making the same sorts of statements and just as repeatedly. This tells us a number of things, not least among them that the accounts we have shorten the scene significantly from its full extent. It also tells us that Peter was not the exception case here, but merely the focal point. Jesus singled him out, to be sure, and the significance of what was said to him and what would follow after impressed more than just Peter, as was intended. There was a reason to Jesus’ approach here. It’s all of you who are impacted, but it’s Simon, dear Simon that needs particularly to be addressed.
Thinking about that denial, that defensiveness that is evident not only in Peter, but in all the gathered apostles, I arrive at the first opportunity to reframe this scene in the Present Personal tense. There is something striking about how they have responded to this news, and that is that these are men who know perfectly well who Jesus is. Well, perhaps not perfectly well, but sufficiently well. “You are the Son of God!” That was absolute acknowledgement that He was (and is) clearly more than a man. Add to that the scene Peter had witnessed at the Transfiguration, and the degree of awe it had bred in him. He was ready to set up tabernacles to these miraculous beings he had seen. Moses, Elijah, Jesus: At the very least, He was being elevated to their degree of significance. Beyond that, it was certain that the first two of these three had long since quit this mortal realm. Yet, there they were. And as for Jesus, there was that whole business of the actual transformation. Peter had seen Jesus perhaps not as He truly is, but far nearer to it than any other besides James and John. He, more even than those two, knew that this Man was God. If He was God, there could be no doubting the accuracy of His statements. “You have the word of Life! Who else could we possibly turn to if we find You wrong?” Really. What’s left in life if You are false, Jesus? There is nothing. It’s over and we may just as well pack it in now.
Yet, with that knowledge, here he is again accusing Jesus of error. We know, of course, that he had done this before, just after having properly fingered Jesus as the Son of God. We might almost have let him slide on that one, supposing maybe the heart and mind had not yet really registered that which the Spirit had spoken into him in that moment. But it’s surely been internalized by now, and not just by Peter, but by all who were there. And in spite of that, here they all are telling Jesus He is wrong again. They won’t put it in so many words, for who could dare, but in effect, each and every one of them is shouting out to Jesus, “You’re a liar!” Here before or beside them reclines Truth, and they declare Him a lie! Truly, they have already denied Him with this outburst!
OK, I said I was going into the Present Personal, and this is but the setup for that effort. You see, these men are not exceptionally weak, unusually dense. They are us. I am just as any one of them set about that table. Jesus speaks, and I am swift to reject. Jesus commands, and I’m inclined to hem and haw, to excuse myself, seek a delay, ignore Him completely, just about anything but comply. Unless, of course, His command happens to suit my agenda. But, when He speaks of my failures? When He tells me explicitly of sins yet ahead of me? No. I could never accept such a message.
This is a problem. It is a problem I most assuredly suffer from. I know my God is sovereign. I speak of Him as my Lord and my King, and I deem Him the very embodiment of Wisdom and Truth. And yet, when He speaks, I feel perfectly free to ignore Him. When He indicates that things are thus and so, I am so foolish as to feel perfectly right in telling Him He’s wrong. What is that all about? Well, when the situation is that blatant, when there is that sense of being almost face to face with God I don’t slip up in this fashion. But, the reality is that in many and sundry ways I do. There is that verse that indicates that when there is that thing you know you ought not to do and you do it anyway, it is a sin for you even if it is one of those acts that resides in the debatable category. Even if it could properly be argued that what you do is not inherently sinful, if it strikes you as such and you do it anyway, well? What is that but a disregard for sin, and if there be disregard for sin, there must also be disregard for sin’s Judge.
This but scratches the merest surface of the problem, but it is a big issue in its own right. Here is this act you believe I have told you that you must not do and here you are doing it. And you still call yourself My servant, My follower? If you are My follower, then follow! Yes, Lord, and I know that’s how it ought to be, and I know that’s how I wish it to be. And yet, I know this flesh is yet so treasonous, and I dare not even limit the blame to this flesh. Oh, I know. It is no longer I who sin, now that You are in me. Yet, it is me. I am the one who is sinning. I am the one who so willfully ignores Your instruction, decides which bits to accept and which I shall ignore for a season yet. Much as I would love to just write it all off as the act of some fleshly part of me that is no longer really a part of me, I cannot do so. I cannot but see that as yet another means of shirking responsibility, little different from saying it was the devil made me do it. No, but even if it was a buckling under his instigations, yet the choice was mine, is mine. The responsibility is mine. God! How to be free of this? Not the responsibility, but the negligence. How to come to that place where Your Word truly is a Law upon my heart? I know not, except it be by Your power, Your guidance, Your working and willing in me to such a degree that it truly is my will to obey even in those things I might more naturally choose not to obey. Come, then. Come and so work. Come and so will. Come put the bit in the mouth of my fleshly ways, rein in my seemingly endless rebellions against You. Come to my aid, Lord God. Be Thou truly my Lord, my King, and train me to walk accordingly.
In all of this, in this issue of disobedience, rebellion, negligence and disrespect, the primary thing is, it seems to me, to remain ever mindful not only that this is God I am dealing with, but just exactly what that entails. If, for even a moment, I forget that He is Sovereign, unopposable as to His commands, then I begin to feel free to ignore those commands. If I forget, or choose to ignore, that He is Omniscient and Omnipresent, then I swiftly con myself into thinking that this act He will not notice. His back is turned for a moment and I can get away with it. By the time His attention’s back on me, it’s over and I can recover my pious expression. Look! We know this is utter folly. We know full well there is no such thing as a moment when His back is turned and He is not fully, 100% aware of not only our actions but our thoughts. Yet, we walk about convinced that we are more clever than He is. We walk about in the exact same lie as led to the devil’s abrupt departure from the heavenly realms. We’re smarter than He, more clever by far. Sure and nobody else in all history ever got away with crossing Him, but we have learned from that history. We won’t make the same mistakes. And thus thinking, we have already made the same mistakes.
You know, it’s one thing to know that He is merciful and forgiving. It’s one thing to be absolutely convinced that He Who has saved us will forgive us our failings, and we believe it aright! But, to fall into thinking we can demand absolution of Him, no. This is a deadly mistake. We can no more make demand of God than we can demand the jailor turn us out of the jail post haste. It’s not in our jurisdiction to act in that fashion. We can, in God, count on His forgiveness when we have met the singular condition imposed. We can trust Him fully and completely. We can even rest in the assurance that having been redeemed by the blood of His Son, there is no least chance that He’s going to allow us to slip away with finality. But, we cannot presume upon that knowledge. We cannot afford to take it for granted that this is our story. Indeed, if we have made it our practice to take His mercy for granted, then I must suspect that we have never been truly redeemed at all. If we can presume upon God, take Him for granted, and do so as our common practice as opposed to a momentary lapse of which we are most abjectly sorry, then it must surely be that we have no regard for Him whatsoever. We may as well be atheists for all our theistic posturing will avail us.
That’s hard. It’s hard for me to hear myself on this point, because it strikes too close to home. There are those things that I have known need to be shed from my life. I have known it at least as long as I have been able to count the Lord as my Savior, probably far longer even than that. For, it ever seems to me that God tends to start the process of restoration in many cases before ever He makes Himself truly known to the one being restored. He is, as I have said before, the only One who can clean a fish before He catches it, and sometimes He does just that. But, I am distracting myself. There are those things He has left uncleansed in me, habits that persist – and not good ones. There are things clearly sinful and things doubtful yet certainly unwise. And, as I have noted, what is doubtful is made sinful even by that doubt. Yet I feel myself incapable of stopping. I may stop for a time, but something comes up, some stressor reasserts itself in my life, and boom! Right back to it. Like a dog to his vomit.
Do you see my dilemma? I know better! I know the deadly peril such things place me in, I understand that my persistence in going my own way in spite of it all must surely chip away at any sense I may have that the perseverance of the saints is something I myself possess. Yet, at one and the same time, I do know that this is my possession, my inheritance. In spite of seeing so much cause for doubt, I find there is no doubt within me. I am His! I struggle with it, to be sure, but I am His. I fail Him miserably on a daily basis, if not hourly, but I am His. I am His not because I am such a marvelous son to Him, but because He is such a Father to me. He has adopted me. I could as well say that I have seen the papers that seal that adoption, that make it a binding matter not just on me, but more to the point, on Him. It is not that I have some binding claim upon Him, some demand I can make. He has bound Himself in this. He is both the party of the first part, and the clerk of the court, the notary placing the seal of His witness upon His own document. It is, after all, a covenanted matter between God and myself, and it seems His covenants with man ever wind up relying more upon His compliance than man’s. Again, not as an excuse for moral failure. No! There is no excuse. There is, however, great comfort in knowing God has my back. There is greater comfort still in knowing He not only has my back, He has my future. He is my future.
With that, let me return to Peter’s story here, because this, too, has bearing on my own course. It is surely one of the great lessons of the Gospel, as applies to the believer. It has been preached on in so many different ways down through the centuries, endlessly commented upon. Yet, Peter’s story is surely the story of the Christian everyman. You will fail Me most miserably, Peter, and that within just the next few hours. For all your bravado and certitude, you will not just desert Me, but lie through your teeth denying Me to save your own skin. Try that on for size! And yet, we know how the story turns out. For each of those acts of lying denial, a response of forgiveness and redemption from the very One He denied. And this is love, that He first loved us. This is amazing, that He loves us at all! This is nearly unimaginable, that mankind, in spite of all we have done as a species, is still granted to breathe and to walk upon the earth of God’s creation.
But, Peter would be forgiven even this, as we ourselves experience His forgiveness. Arguably, with every breath we take we experience His mercy. Peter’s case is just more visceral, more obvious to the eye. Now, most who would comment on Peter’s lesson of forgiveness would jump forward to that closing scene on the shores of the Sea of Galilee. But, there’s no need. It’s right here in Luke’s account. “I have prayed for you, Peter. I have prayed that your faith not fail.” OK. Stop right there! Who prayed? Jesus? Son of God? God Incarnate? If we have forgotten Who He Is when He commands, let us at least remember Who He Is when He prays! This is not a bit of wishful hoping for a good outcome, even if it is in the subjunctive. No. This is God saying, “I have prayed.” This is stronger than Captain Picard’s, “Make it so, Number One.” There is no need for such. This is, “It is so.” This is as strong a declaration as that which Jesus would speak from the cross: “It is finished!”
Jesus might as well have told Peter, “Your faith will not fail, so when you’re done with this slip up, strengthen the rest of the team. Teach them from what you learn by this.” Of course, had Jesus put it to him with such definiteness, it would only promote the very complacency in Peter that would be a most terrible obstacle to that returning to Jesus. This is the danger of the perseverance message that prevents so many preachers from teaching it, even if they believe it. It is too easy to move from the reality of perseverance to the complacency of the ‘once saved, always saved’ fallacy, the vain and futile position of the social Christian. Hey! I was baptized. I said the sinner’s prayer. Now I can just get on with life. Nothing need change. There need be no outward evidence of inward change. There needn’t even be any inward change. I signed the deal and God must abide by it. Dear, oh dear, such a deadly poison that belief is to a man. After all, if you’re already convinced of your salvation in spite of all evidence to the contrary, what remains to bring you to a sense of your desperate situation, your great need for a real salvation to replace the con job you bought into?
All of this, though, brings me to consider the possible good of Peter’s bad experience. Indeed, having commented on the seeming oddness of Jesus shifting to calling him Simon, then back to calling him Peter, maybe it should hint of the purpose of this whole ordeal as concerns that son of Jonah. That sifting, you see, was going to come. We’ll get to that. It was going to come, and for a season at least, it would seem to show that Simon, just like all the others, was weak and worthless chaff. His commitment to God and to the Way would seem to have been as much a matter of convenience and personal benefit as proved to be the case with Judas. Except, Simon had this going for him: “I have prayed for you.”
As with Joseph and his brothers, so with Jesus and His. We might even suppose the same antagonist behind the scenes. Satan meant this for evil. He has nothing but bad intent. I could temper that by saying he has such intent towards God’s adopted sons, but really it’s a false bound. He has bad intent towards all. But, take it to those who are serving, where it seems those bad intents prove more intense. Satan means this for evil, Simon. He intends to shake your confidence in Me, in what I am about to purchase on your behalf. He wants you doubting, dissuaded, disappointed. And trust Me, Peter, he’s going to succeed in that. You will be doubtful and dissuaded. You’ll just walk back to your old life kicking yourself for a fool because of these three years that seem to have been wasted. Oh, yes. You’ll know disappointment like you cannot even imagine at present. You’ll be disappointed in Me. You’ll be disappointed even more with yourself. You’ll see no hope, even when you find I have risen. You’ll think you’ve put yourself beyond redemption.
But, God means it for good! Your faith will wobble, but it won’t fail. After all, it’s not yours primarily, but His, and He does not fail! You will walk away, it’s true; run away, really. But, it’s necessary for your own growth. You see, you cannot grow into being Peter, into being the rock, until you have been through this period of quicksand. You are still Simon, right now. You hear, but you are doubtful. You are hardly a rock, Simon, you must surely admit. Why even tonight you have vacillated in your opinions, have you not? And, that vacillation is not over yet! No, more like shifting sand for the moment, but this shifting and sifting is not to your destruction as Satan supposes. Not at all! It is to the glory of God. For you will be brought through this. You will come through not as chaff to be burned, but as a man with rock-solid faith, able not only to stand in the face of what will surely come your way, but also able to be a bulwark for your brothers. From what you must endure, you will be equipped to impart to the rest, to teach them from what you learn, and thereby be not only strong in yourself, but strength to them all.
So often, we find our own misfortunes, our own failures, so inexplicable. Why, Lord? Why do You allow this? I am Your child, a King’s kid! Surely, this is beneath me? And yet, it happens. Yet, we are required to go through it, unfair though we deem it to be. And we are ever inclined to complain all along the way. But, it is for our good. It is written! “I have plans for you that are for your welfare, not for calamity. My plans for you give you a future and a hope certain” (Jer 29:11). Oh, but that was for one man. I dare not claim that to myself! OK, then, how about this: We know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, who are called for His purpose (Ro 8:28). Are you among the called? Do you love Him, even though it be imperfectly? Well, then, it seems you ought to hear that as being written to you, surely. You are part of the we. So this bad time you’re going through is assuredly for good. It has a purpose. It’s not senseless, and its not retribution. It’s training and preparation for what lies ahead, that you may be as useful to the kingdom as you have desired to be. All that frustration you’ve felt at being so ill equipped, so inconsistent, so often wrong? That’s going away because God is stripping it away. Satan thought he was clearing you away as chaff, but really, he’s serving for your purification.
That evil one assuredly has his plans in what is happening. But, his plans don’t dictate the result, God does. What he does in hopes of proving how useless we are actually winds up making us more useful. Peter would never have arrived at being Peter except he had gone through this period of severe Simonizing.
I had found myself curious as to what sort of sifting Jesus was implying here, and the wording left me in some doubt. Was he looking at the winnowing process that shook the grains free of the stalk, or was He speaking of something nearer the user of the grain, such sifting as might be done in preparation for making a cake from the flour? It’s unclear. In connection with what I’ve just been saying, I might suggest that both meanings are in view. If I perceive the point from Satan’s perspective, clearly he has that winnowing process in view. His intent is to show us as weak and worthless and allow the winds of adversity to blow us away from our Savior. But, in God’s hands it is far more like the act of sifting wheat flour.
Consider that such flour has long since been through the winnowing process. The worthless chaff is already gone. The grains have already been ground to a fine powder, a process one can hardly suppose is pleasant for the grain! All that remains before that flour is used for the cake is to restore it to its best condition. The purity is already there, as Jesus was saying about the whole footwashing business. You’re already clean. That’s not what this is about. So, too, the flour of the believer. When once that faith which is God’s gift had come, that purity was established. You are clean because He Who alone has say in such matters pronounced you clean, and let no man think he can say otherwise! But the finest of flour settles over time, clumps up a bit as it sits on the shelf. The sifting does nothing to purify the flour, just fluffs it up, counters that settling and clumping, and generally serves to bring it to its highest state of usefulness.
Carry that back to the picture before us. Satan wants to sift you like wheat. But, what he thinks he’s doing and what is really being done are two entirely different matters. His attempts to throw you off just make you more valuable in the kingdom’s progress. They serve to not only get you in position to help, but they fix in your character and experience the lessons necessary to you in that position. You learn from what you go through. To borrow once more from Charlie Peacock’s song, you come into possession of your experience. You own it. And, what you own, you can impart to others. It’s one thing to teach from head knowledge, mere philosophical wisdom. You can relay facts and figures, yes. You can quote others on this and that, and maybe somebody will be impressed. But, it won’t be imbibed. Unless it is something you have really imbibed yourself, really brought internal and incorporated as an innate part of your being, you can teach all you like, but you have nothing to give. God’s hard experiences serve us in making these life lessons, these experiences of His victory, an inherent part of self, a given condition of our being. Now, we speak with authority when we address such issues. Now, we have firsthand experience of God in action by which to relay not our brilliance, but His awesomeness to those who are in similar straights, to those who are where we were. The flour is fluffed up to perfection, and there is the bowl in which batter is to be made. Go, then, to your purpose!
[01/27/12] In another of those intriguing coordinations of unrelated studies that God seems to orchestrate for me, Table Talk happened to be discussing Habakkuk 1:12-13, this morning. The day’s devotional commented on how hard it was for Habakkuk to accept that God was allowing evil Babylon to be used as a tool to punish Israel. We are Yours and they are not, and You can live with Yourself doing this awful thing? Yet, Habakkuk was reminded by God that it was He Who is sovereign, He Whose ways are far and away beyond Habakkuk’s comprehension, and not the other way round.
I note the coordinating of messages because I had it on my plate this morning to consider some of those other occasions where we find God doing what seems unthinkable to us. If He is Good and He is Holy, which He is, then how could He? Certainly, one might have that reaction here. Satan has demanded the apostles for sifting? So, who is he to demand anything from God, and why would God give him so much as an audience, let alone grant his request? Yet, it is clear that He did. The implications are there, and if they’re not clear enough in Luke’s coverage, we need only turn to Matthew. “You will all fall away.” Oh, yes, Satan had his demands met on this account.
Honestly, as we consider what this same adversary of ours had in store for Jesus, and that Jesus was no more going to be spared those trials than would the apostles, perhaps we ought to find less to complain about. But, I was considering other such cases. The tale of Job is surely the most obvious parallel. Satan comes strolling into the courts of heaven, and God does not just grant him some request that he had in mind when he came. He pokes that one. Look at Job, there! Now, there’s an upright man. You could never corrupt the likes of him. Well, of course this is like double daring Satan to do his worst, and he does – within the bounds God emplaces. But, he comes back! You know, I’m not sure this registers with us in our memories of Job. It’s stated plainly, but we tend to glaze it over. The full scope of his calamity is so terrible to us that we rather forget that it came in stages. Satan failed in his first attempt to corrupt righteous Job, so he came back seeking that God would remove or at least relocate that protective boundary He had set. Then, comes what might be one of the more worrying statements of Scripture. “And again, the Lord granted Satan permission” (Job 2:6).
We have a real problem with this. All of Scripture may be true, but honestly, maybe in this one instance the record was corrupted or something. God, He Who is Love, gives Satan permission to slay Job’s kids, destroy his income and then to even inflict Job with all manner of disease? This is love? This is good? No, I’m sorry. This is not the God I gave myself to. This is where folks start having a problem if they’ve only known the sort of evangelistic preaching that will have nothing to do with the wrath of God, lest they disturb the flock, lest they threaten their membership drive. But, it is the God that Scripture reveals, and it’s not just this isolated case in Job.
We have already seen how greatly disturbed Habakkuk was as he was given news of God’s plans. What? You’re going to lead Israel captive by the likes of these men? I thought You couldn’t abide sin in Your presence, so what’s up with this business? Mind you, any such mindset must first indicate that we have forgotten just how impure we are ourselves. More often than not, I find myself at a loss to understand how God can abide in me if He can’t abide sin. Oh, you can try and write it off as a matter of which Person of the Trinity does this abiding, but the truth is that there is no such distinction between the three as would answer the question. The truth is also that the promise to us is that all three abide with us anyway, so there’s no wiggle room there. We must come to grips with this reality. God will use whom He will use. He is not limited by our nature, and He is no more limited by theirs.
We must also understand, and understand clearly, that His using these means to achieve His ends does not endorse or condone the means. The evil which He turns to good purpose is not an evil He sets in motion, but rather the will and desire of those who act in evil fashion. It was true of Nebuchadnezzar, it was true of Pharaoh. It is true of Satan. He needs no commanding. God did not have to insist that he go put Job to the test. He had but to point Job out, and Satan’s own will and character decided the rest. Somehow, though we may not understand it in full, it must be understood that God’s permitting this activity is not condoning it. Indeed, there should be no doubt whatsoever in our minds that, had He not known perfectly well what the outcome of it all would be, He would not have permitted the first step.
Of course, there will be those who look at Job’s story and wonder about the collateral damage. What about his sons? Where was the good in their slaughter? What about those whose livelihoods were destroyed as they depended on Job’s employ? What about those slaves who were killed? This was good? Certainly not for them! I cannot explain any further than God chose to explain Himself: “I will have mercy on whom I will to have mercy.” I AM is sovereign. I AM is, in spite of the depth of explanation of Himself that He has chosen to reveal in Scripture, still inscrutable. He retains the right to keep such particulars of His thinking to Himself as He deems to be in His interest. He is not required to explain Himself to us.
Another example: Through Amos, God explains what the nearing catastrophe is all about, if His people will give ear to what is being said. “Behold I am commanding! I will shake Israel amongst the nations, just like grain in a sieve. Yet, not one kernel will fall to the ground” (Amos 9:9). Now, there are two distinct parts to this that we must take notice of. We must see both the beginning and the end. The beginning is this: “I AM commanding.” God is in charge. These events that so trouble us, give us such doubts and anxiety, are not random events. They are not coincidence. They are Providence. Even our worst trials, we ought to understand, have this behind them: “I AM commanding.” God is in charge. He is always in charge. He has not omitted certain intelligence reports in planning out His actions. He has not forgotten you, nor has He missed what your afflicters are doing. He is commanding.
I am told that it requires a distinctly Reformed theological understanding to accept this. Perhaps so. Yet, how can a believer read such a statement as this and not accept that, whether it’s comfortable or not, it is clearly what is written? “I am commanding.” Whatever our circumstance, (and believe me, I know some circumstances in my own life experience that are as hard to accept as those we find in Job’s account and I’m sure just about everybody else can say the same), it remains true: God is commanding. His hand is upon even those circumstances. His hand is upon even those events that lead us to question His sanity and ours. His hand is upon even those events that may lead us to fall away, just as His hand is upon the events ahead for the apostles.
Now, look to the end of that statement: “Yet, not one kernel of you will fall to the ground.” This may be as near as we shall ever come to an answer to that cry of, “How could You?” This is the answer for Habakkuk. It lies in another Truth: He knows the end from the beginning (Isa 46:10). Indeed, we should hear that in a slightly longer form. Remember your past, your people’s past! For I am God. There is no other. I am God and there is no one like Me. I declare the end from the outset. From ancient times, I spoke of things not yet done. I said, “My purpose will be established. I will accomplish all My good pleasure.”
This is a proclamation of the certainty that only God can claim. Indeed, that certainty is part and parcel with the claim He makes. If there is one thing that sets Him apart as being like no other, it is the fact that when He purposes, it is with full and absolute knowledge and control of the outcome. You can whine about your free will, and not being willing to be some chess pawn in God’s game, but this just presumes we can contain God in our own finite comprehension. Yes, He’s in control, yet your own experience will suffice to recognize that you are also and simultaneously in control. With the possible exception of those specific circumstances that led to you finally recognizing and acknowledging God, I dare say you have never found yourself doing something other than what you chose to do. Indeed, even in that moment, if your experience was anything like mine, you chose. You had your own reasons for undertaking whatever it was that led to belief. Yet, God chose first. God planted in the fertile soil of your being. He must have, for none comes to the Father except through the Son, and none can come to the Son except the Father calls him hence. It’s the dual exclusivity clause that Scripture insists upon.
If, then, He is sovereign over your salvation, He is just as sovereign over everything else in your experience. He is just as sovereign over every other aspect of a creation that is, after all, by His hands. So, when He speaks of that sifting experience coming upon Israel, it is spoken with that certainty at the front end: that nothing of His will be lost. Does that indicate that nobody would die as a result of what was coming? Nope. Does it indicate that nobody would get sick? Nope. It indicates what it indicates: Not one of you will fall to the ground. Not one of you will be lost. In the eternal scheme of things, all who are His are secured in Him. They will be tested, they will be tried. They will feel the excruciating process of the crucible. But, they will come forth from these assays purified and proven.
Perhaps you will say that this is the way God worked in the Old Testament, but under this new covenant’s terms, all that wrathful stuff has been done away with. Well, let’s consider that Apostle who wrote so much of what we have in the New Testament. “I have decided to turn this sort over to Satan that his flesh may be destroyed by that one, and thus might his spirit be saved in the day of the Lord” (1Co 5:5). Clearly, he had no problem with tough love. Which is worse, that you should be comfortable indulging yourself in this life only to discover an eternity of punishment ahead, or that you should endure the punishment of sin in your flesh now so as to enter an eternity of blessing? Oh, I know, we’d just as soon have the best of both worlds. But, it is not to be. In spite of all that we are convinced to believe, we cannot have the best of both worlds. Our eyes are either on heaven or they are on earth. Jesus has said we cannot serve both masters and expect to satisfy either. But, we don’t generally believe that, do we?
All right, come back to this message to Peter and the rest. It follows the exact same flow as that which was delivered to Amos, doesn’t it? The sifting is coming. But, I have prayed. I have already determined the outcome, else I would not allow it at all. Satan would not be granted such access to you if I did not already know that you will weather everything he plans. I know you as he cannot. So, when He addresses Peter with this message that He has prayed, He begins to reveal somewhat of the purpose of this ordeal. “Your faith will not fail.” Yes, I know, it is stated in less certain syntax, but with that prelude of “I have prayed,” the outcome is not really in doubt at all, although the apostles will assuredly experience profound doubts. Your faith may not fail, Peter. It cannot. I won’t have it. Remember, therefore, when you have returned to Me. Remember what I said. Remember what you went through yourself, and you strengthen them. This has a purpose Peter. It’s not all senseless violence. It’s not going to make sense to you right away. In plain fact, it’s going to cause you to give up. But, only for a time. Only while you are being grown within. Only until the rock emerges from the quaking sands of Simon’s doubts. Then, with faith made certain, you shall indeed be a rock, and you shall teach your fellow apostles that same steadfastness, for you shall be able to explain from your own experience just how purposeful and good are the worst evils we are given to experience, we who are the sheep of God’s fold.
With those words, “I have prayed for you,” Jesus has moved from the general statement of what lies ahead for His flock, to the very personal message He has for Peter. As the Message words it, “I’ve prayed for you in particular.” Now, in terms of strictest exegesis, I suppose I should have to take note that these words being so specifically addressed to Peter must be understood as applying specifically to Peter. Were this the only passage we had in Scripture regarding the nature of Jesus’ prayers for His followers, perhaps I would leave it there. But, the greater reality is that this is not some exclusive deal Jesus made on behalf of Peter. It is exemplary of how He meets the duties of His office. He is the Shepherd. Peter is but one of His sheep, and His care for any one of His sheep is as His care for any other. God is impartial in this regard. He does not favor one son over another. That’s not to say He is non-selective as to who is numbered amongst His sons. Not at all. But, beyond that divide, His impartiality is beyond any reproach.
The sum of it is that I am granted by the very nature of God to accept what is said to Peter here as being equally true on my own account. This is another of those great marvels of the faith. My God prays for me! Is there any other religion that would even think such a thing possible? Did Mohammad have any sense or confidence that Allah was praying for him? No. His beliefs were all about appeasing this Allah, trying to stay on his good side. Likewise the whole system of gods that filled Greek and Roman life. Nobody viewed those gods as demonstrating some sort of paternal care for mankind. Oh, they could find one to attribute their creation to, another their preservation, and another yet the support of this or that behavior. But, if they interacted with man at all, it was solely for their own amusement and to satisfy their own hungers. For man, the role was ever to sacrifice to this god and that, and generally in hopes of keeping said god off one’s back that his life might be untroubled.
Here, in Christ Jesus, we have the picture most thoroughly reversed. Here is the One in whom is that peace, that untroubled state. Clearly, as we see with Peter’s case, that is no promise that this life will suddenly be one long, happy garden path for us. No. “In this life you will have troubles.” It’s a given, and it’s only worse in that regard when we have taken upon us the mark of kinship with God, for the usurping prince of this present time hates nothing so much as the true King and that hatred he shares out upon all who side with the true King. He cannot, of course, touch that One so he satisfies his anger by doing all he can against the King’s earthly kin.
Having just finished a novel set in the intrigues of Cold War espionage, one could think of Soviet policy at the time, or of many regimes still extent today. We cannot touch you, for you have left the country. But your family’s still here, and we have them on tight watch. One wrong step, and the dog gets it! This is the game Satan is playing, and it is a game he is destined to lose. That doesn’t make it any more pleasant for us, when we find ourselves in the position of the political hostage. But, we have this: “I have prayed for you. Your faith will not fail. Your hope is certain.”
Once again, I take note of just Who it is Who is praying here, Who is praying not only on Peter’s behalf, but on behalf of every child of God. “I AM is praying for you, that your faith will not fail.” Can there be any doubt of the outcome? I know, Jesus was as inclined to temper His prayers with, “Thy will be done,” as ever I am. But, with me, that can be cover for doubt. With Him, it was more a confession of feeling the bonds of His human experience. It was acknowledgement that this was more the flesh speaking than faith. Yes, it would be marvelously more pleasant could we find some other way of tossing this bum of a Satan, I would surely prefer it could we come to a plan that didn’t involve what lies ahead for Me. But, nevertheless, not My will in this current weakness, but Yours in perfection. There’s nothing of that concern for a present weakness in this case. This is not a prayer for personal concerns. This is a prayer of a distinctly high priestly nature. It is not that which we are taught to consider Jesus’ great high priestly prayer, but it is absolutely a prayer spoken in the performance of that office.
I have prayed for you. I know what’s in store. I know what it’s like, and I know what it’s going to do to you. I know the one who is looking to do you in. But, your faith will not fail. I have prayed. There are things yet to be done by you, a role to be served out in the work of the kingdom. Indeed, until you have been through this ordeal, you will not really be prepared for that work. It will hurt. It will try you to your uttermost. But, your faith will not fail.
We ought, perhaps, to hear this in conjunction with that more formally recognized high priestly prayer. In particular, take this clause. “I don’t ask You to take them out of the world, but to keep them from the evil one” (Jn 17:15). We ask to be taken out. We want nothing to do with the world’s abuse of us. But, our Priest does not. We cannot serve the Kingdom in this world if we are not in it. If every Christian is immediately whisked off to heaven upon redemption, who is left to give witness to Him Who saves? Who is left to make certain that what is written remains available to be read? Who will be saved if the saved all depart? It is the plight Paul expresses in Romans. “How shall they call upon Him if they haven’t believed? How shall they believe if they’ve never heard? And how are they going to hear if there are no preachers” (Ro 10:14-17). They must be sent! For faith comes by hearing, and what needs hearing is the word of Christ.
That steps us very neatly into the remaining bit of Jesus’ message to Peter. Having given Peter cause for confidence in the outcome, Jesus gives a reason for the outcome. “When you have returned to Me, strengthen your brothers.” I find myself wanting to somehow work through the syntax at this point so as to remove the subjunctive mood from what Jesus is saying, to put it in terms as certain as the outcome truly is. But, apart from a peculiar construct given in Young’s Literal Translation, I cannot find the support for doing so. That translation gives us this clause, “when thou didst turn.” Perhaps I read too much into the archaic wording, but that didst implies a greater certainty. It pushes the event into a sort of future past. It’s ahead, but it will be in the past. The point will come, you will turn, and everything beyond that point will build from that one moment.
The NET speaks of this as Jesus restoring Peter in advance. Reading the combined accounts, there is a sense of that being the case. Peter, I know as you do not that you are going to not only fail Me but fail Me spectacularly, repeatedly, and in very short order. You’ll be lying through your teeth to distance yourself from Me. But, that won’t be the end of it, Peter. I have prayed. Your faith, though it’s going to go into hibernation, will not fail. You will return to Me, and having done so, you will be particularly prepared to serve Me by strengthening these your brothers.
I don’t think there can be any doubt whatsoever that Peter, even in the darkest days of his self recriminations, heard the hope of this message replaying over and over in his mind. Indeed, being forewarned was not sufficient to prevent his failure, nor was it expected to do so. It did not prevent his deep remorse when he realized that he had done precisely as Jesus said he would do. It did not prevent him from withdrawing, from tossing it in, from returning to what he knew. But, it prevented him from staying in the pit he had dug. If, after all, Jesus was right about this, then the rest of the message surely held as well, right? Peter, for all his shakiness, had a foundation of Rock.
We have great need of that same firm confidence in our Savior. To each one of us, these words come in one form or another, and not just the promise of final victory. We should each of us hear the extent of our weakness exposed by our Savior. You’re going to blow it. You’re going to try and pretend you don’t know Me. You’re going to do things with a clear intention of proving yourself a man’s man and not God’s man. You are going to undertake activities of which your shame will be so deep that you shall fear to ever hear from Me again. But, in spite of this all, your faith is not going to fail utterly. I have prayed for you. You will return to Me. You will be restored to Me, and you will know yourself truly and fully forgiven by Me. Then, we can really start to work together. Then, you will be of even greater value to the kingdom.
Bury that promise deep! Etch it in memory. For, we are all of us in constant peril of finding ourselves mid-denial. We are all of us capable of treacheries every bit as awful as Peter, and frankly, even as Judas. If we do not both know that Jesus is our constant, our Advocate in heaven’s court, our High Priest, then those treacheries shall become our end. Shame and regret are powerful forces. They can cow the staunchest resolve. They can cause us to hide from world and from self. They can terminate relationships once held dear, for we fear nothing quite so much as seeking to mend fences long left to ruin. I tell you, this aspect of our Lord is something we must do more than know. Having it in mind will not suffice. Knowing He said it would not sustain Peter and it won’t sustain us. This needs to be part of us, as innate to our being as breathing. He has said it. He meant it. What He has said is sure. There is a security for the believer, for the elect of God. Count on it, because you’re going to need to in those darkest hours.
