You Were There (08/15/12)
One thing that comes across loud and clear from these accounts is the confusion, the chaotic nature of events unfolding. If there is difficulty in getting clear correlation between the several accounts, surely this is the reason. Each man’s recollections would be personal in the extreme, focused exclusively on those things that occupied that man’s mind in the moment.
So, consider that young man that Mark mentions. For the moment, ignore the question of whether he speaks of himself, or of some stranger. Why does he appear at all in this narrative? To suppose him one of the disciples is a leap that, though I have made it, ought not to be made. Everyone who followed after Jesus was not necessarily a follower. But, let us assume this is, as is often suggested, Peter’s account of the night. Peter, who had just assaulted one of the servants of the priest, who had drawn sword against Roman forces, sees this young man, whoever he is, come out into the night to see what is happening and perhaps to help quiet the neighborhood. For all we know, he owns this garden, or his parents do. But, how is he treated? The guards make an attempt to seize him!
Peter saw this, let us assume. Peter witnessed just how eager these men were to make further arrests, to assume the worst about any man they happened across this night. Yet, he followed. Matthew tells us that he was leaving some room between himself and this group, and wouldn’t you? John tells us that he went with one of the other disciples, one familiar to the high priest. All of this serves as lead in to the scene at the door of the high priest’s house. And here, I think the most telling feature is the wording of the question as John recalls things. “You’re not another one of his disciples, are you?” The form of this question is important. The girl at the door asks with expectation of hearing a no in return, and Peter has provided the clearly expected answer.
Put these things together and try to consider what must have been running through Peter’s mind in that moment. Assuredly, he feels the risk in being there in the first place. His primary hope has got to be that it was dark, and torchlight is not the best light for making faces recognizable. Presumably, he must think, if they knew who he was, they would have taken him already. So, he feels himself in the clear on that account. On the other hand, having arrived at the house of the high priest, he’s been turned back at the door. That other disciple is given access, but he is not. When his companion comes back to ask that he be allowed in, there comes this question. You’re not another one of his disciples, are you?
Now, let’s understand this. If this other disciple is known to the high priest, it seems very likely that his status as a disciple of Jesus is also known to the high priest. We can infer from this, and suppose Peter recognized as well, that announcing himself as a disciple of Jesus is not a danger to his person at this stage. He could have answered in the positive without fear of arrest or any other such thing. What he may have felt to be at risk, though, was his ability to enter the building. The way she asks him his status, it is clear she wants to hear a no in return. It may also seem clear in Peter’s mind that if he answers yes, she may not allow him in. Enough risk for her that she has allowed this other one in. It’s not worth the potential punishment should she let another in, and some sort of disruption come of it.
What I am suggesting, then, is that Peter’s first denial, taken at face value, may have seemed a white lie to him at the time. He was doing what seemed needful to get himself into the proceedings, to be able to stand as witness for the defense, if the need arose. Later events might be different, but this first situation seems to me almost brave, given the chaos and the danger of this night. Consider that of the eleven with Jesus that night, only this other disciple, who is perhaps in the safest position and Peter, who is at greatest risk, have come to witness this mockery of justice. Whatever may be said of subsequent events, this moment deserves some respect.
New Thoughts (08/15/12-08/17/12)
Once again, I must open with a disclaimer. Being on vacation this week, I do not have my usual array of tools with me, reducing the number of lexicons and cross-references at my disposal. I could almost take this as an answer to prayer, as I have at times wondered how I shall ever reach the end of this long study of the Gospels! A second disclaimer might be in order as regards my choice in combining these particular passages into a single study. The outline I follow was done rather a long time ago now, and the reasoning behind it is no longer stashed in memory. However, the jumble of accounts somehow led me to the point of perceiving these accounts as combining to describe the initial events, from that moment Mark describes during the march from the garden up to the point of Peter’s first denial.
I note that even as I have sought to sort these passages into some coherently combined narrative, I have written things in a fashion I would not longer hold as correct. I note, for instance, that I have managed to take that apparently singular denial and make it two. I can imagine Luke, and others who sought the true course of events years after the fact, found it equally difficult to sift together the several witnesses into something resembling an accurate picture. It is, I suppose, the standard challenge of the investigator, for eye-witnesses, valuable though they are, are also fallible. Memory is a tricky thing!
The other point that I find need to correct is that I leapt to the assumption that this young man that Mark mentions was a disciple himself, a follower of Jesus as opposed to somebody who happened to be following the excitement around Jesus. I would note that many assumptions are made about this young man. Some have built an entire narrative out of these two brief verses in Mark’s gospel. Oh, he must be Mary’s son. That last meal must have been at Mary’s house, and he followed them out to the garden. That’s why we see him here. Shall we further suppose that he was supposed to be abed at Mary’s instruction, and had snuck out? Is this why we find him in his bedclothes?
In reality, as the commentaries make one recognize, the few details given should dispel any sense that he is a disciple or even one who has been following after them as they depart Jerusalem this night. First, these are night clothes, perhaps nothing more than a sheet the young man has wrapped about himself as he dashed out into the night to see what the trouble was. Second, the description suggests they are of fairly high quality. Now, there’s room to debate that. The term is also used of grave-clothes, but that can hardly be assumed to be the meaning here. Yet, even that usage suggests a thing wherein one might wish to use nothing but the best. At any rate, there is at least the hint of this being a man of some means, and very little to suggest that he had been sitting in the garden with Jesus when they came to make the arrest.
Considering this young man, and considering the vaguely identified other disciple of John’s account, there are some lessons to be drawn. First, we must not assume that everyone who follows after Jesus is therefore a follower. This should be obvious, yet we fail to make the distinction as often as not. Judas, after all, followed after Jesus for several years. Yet, events proved that he was no follower. He was a user of that which Jesus represented, hoping to gain by association and gone when that association looked to become costly instead. Likewise, we must recognize that not all who are regular in their church attendance are therefore Christians, any more than every religious group that wishes to be known as Christian is automatically, because of that wish, truly Christian. As we are taught by Scripture, we are inclined to judge by what we see, but our sight is imperfect and greatly limited. God, on the other hand, sees the heart and judges based upon the full truth of the matter.
Now, there is a corollary to this which Matthew Henry points out, and this, too, deserves our consideration. To quote, “As there are many who seem disciples but are not so, so there are many who are disciples and seem not so.” This also holds. There will be those who, by our lights, seem to have no place in their hearts for faith, yet who are more dear to Christ than those we hold in honor. The point is made that this other disciple, whom we are inclined to suppose is John, may as easily have been some other, perhaps Joseph of Arimathea, or Nicodemus, or even some disciple whose name we are never told. He is known to the high priest, but perhaps he is not known as a believer. It’s not clear. Neither is it necessarily clear to us what a fellow man believes.
Not every man of true faith is going to prove to be a fiery evangelist. Each and every last citizen of heaven may not be on the street corners preaching, may not be loud and proud about their faith. And yet, their faith is real. It is not that they deny Christ, nor can it be (if their faith is true) that they are disobedient to the purpose our Christ has given them. This unknown disciple (and let us suppose for now that it is not John) is quite possibly not known to his friends as a Christian. This, too, we cannot say with certainty, but it remains a possibility. Let me just interject here that the phrasing of the door-keeper’s question gives me cause to suppose some, at least, knew his beliefs. “You are not also one of His disciples, are you?” Well, that presupposes that some previous entrant into that hall was, and that she knew it. Who else ought we suppose that to be, if not this ‘other disciple’?
But, here’s the thing: However quiet we may be about our faith in the general course of things, however much we may maintain our faith as a private matter, there will come that point where we will be known as a disciple in this world. There will come the point where we must act upon our faith, must come to the aid of our fellow believer, or must in some wise support the mission of our King. And, however that event may unfold, we can count on this: It won’t be easy for us to be known as a disciple.
I think that for us in the US that statement seems a bit over the top. It’s not our daily experience to be persecuted as we generally understand persecution. Indeed, by and large I should consider it an embarrassingly self-important statement to suggest that the sorts of things we experience would even count as persecution at all. For this, I am primarily thankful, though. I do not find the threat of martyrdom a thing greatly to be prized. I do find that in spite of the relatively soft nature of the opposition we face here, it remains a fact that there is a pressure upon us to be silent about our beliefs, to let them be personal but not a matter for public discourse. Consider that uproar that arose at the thought of an Attorney General, or worse yet a President, who was open about his faith in God! It seems to me that not all that long ago, this would have been the expectation and not the exception. But, times change, and the nature of evil in the world of America today (and yes, I shall call it evil, however weak it may be in contrast with other nations) is that faith is generally construed as an amusing personal quirk. It’s ok that you believe as you do. It is equally ok that I believe as I do (or don’t). Either way, the unwritten rules of civility require that we each respect the other’s views. Of course, that respect of my views will stop quite abruptly at the point where my beliefs require me to convince you of the truth of my beliefs.
It is also quite clear that in the civil society of our day, tolerance for other faiths is alive and well, so long as that other faith is not Christianity. You may proclaim your Hindu beliefs, or your Muslim faith, or even your Satanism with every expectation of being heard and even welcomed by those who disagree with you. You may go out and insist that your rights as an atheist trump the rights of the believer, and you’ll likely win in court more often than not. Why wouldn’t you? The bench is full of those who think as you do, and will cheerfully disregard the word of law if that word runs counter to their own fancy, or their own desired outcome. By and large, they are not so very different today from those we see sitting in judgment over Jesus. The hatred for truth amongst those who prefer their unbelief is one of the least changeable features of earthly life.
No, it will not be easy to be known as a disciple in this world. The difficulty may (if we are fortunate) be limited to ridicule and maybe some hampers upon our social advancement. It may come to something more. I consider our friends in the Catholic church today, being instructed by government as to where the boundaries of their faith-reservation are, and beyond which point they must provide for the sinful behaviors of those in their employ. As if the state has any business defining the boundaries of faith! As if the state has any legal right to declare that only places of worship can be counted as church business. Places of charitable operation? No, no. They are not an expression of faith, whatever you faithful may believe. In the end, they care nothing for what our faith informs us we ought to do as true believers. They prefer to instruct us as to what we are permitted to do. And, as with the governance in Jesus’ own time, they will disregard the rule of law, if necessary, to see their views imposed upon us.
It may be embarrassing now, to be a Christian in this post-Christian world. But, it will, I fear, become more than merely embarrassing. It will become dangerous, just as it is in other places on the earth. The age of the martyrs has not ended, sadly. It has just become remote from us. We can view it from a distance, express our sympathy for those thus afflicted, and yet feel confident that this will not be asked of us here. I find I am not so sure that this confidence is warranted. Time will tell.
Inasmuch as the text before us is focusing on Peter, I think there would be little harm in doing likewise. One thing I should like to address is a point made by Unger’s in regard to his history. That book, in its article on Peter, suggests that he was married at the time of his call, and that he was effectively commuting between home and those places where Jesus was ministering, at least during the Galilean period of His ministry. How is this arrived at? What we are told is that at one point James and John wend from synagogue to the house of Simon and Andrew, and that Peter spoke of his mother-in-law’s illness on that occasion, leading to Jesus healing her (Mk 1:29-31). Now, that event certainly does not preclude Peter being married at that time, but neither does it require us to suppose he was.
A few points in that regard. First, were he married at that time, it would seem unlikely that his mother-in-law would be living with him, although not entirely impossible. For all that, it would seem just as unlikely a situation were he a widower, but again, not impossible. But, then there is Andrew. How is it that this is his home? I can imagine that if this reference to home is a reference to something like a family complex, where a wing had been added on for Peter in preparation for his marriage, and Andrew perhaps lived in the main house, or may even have been married himself. We don’t know. If, on the other hand, Peter and Andrew are truly living under one roof, it seems far less likely to me that Peter’s wife is there as well. Again, not impossible, but it would not be the first conclusion I would leap towards.
As to the idea that he was commuting, this would hold for him no more and no less than for the other disciples, I suppose. Given that he lived in that place which Jesus was making His base of operations at the time, there would not be much call to commute. I find nothing to suggest that the was continuing his professional pursuits during the years he was with Jesus. That it is still a going concern is clear in that he returns there after Jesus has died. But he returns as one getting back to life as usual, as one who recognizes that fishery as a thing he has been ignoring for some time now, thought was in his past. It is with resignation that Peter accepts these last several years as time wasted chasing dreams, and decides to go back to the real world of making a living. That does not suggest a commuting life to me, but one more nearly a monastic retreat, apart from his being fully involved with those amongst whom he found himself as he followed Jesus about.
I would have to confess that my own suppositions are as speculative as I find those in Unger’s to be. But, that is rather my point. It is speculative. It has to be speculative, for the amount of data provided us is insufficient to say more than that Peter was married at some point, and that he indeed lived in Bethsaida at the time Jesus called. We can add that Jesus continued to operate from that town for the early part of his ministry, but that’s pretty much it. Anything more is guesswork.
There is another point brought up from here at the end of the ministry, coming from a scene just a few days hence from where we are in the narrative. There, from Luke’s account, we are told, that John and Peter saw the empty grave clothes there in the tomb where Jesus had been, and they reacted to the sight. John, Luke tells us, believed, but Peter simply marveled, or wondered about, what had happened (Lk 24:12). Given my penchant for paraphrase, let me go grab that verse directly. First off, that verse only addresses Peter’s side of the story, we have to go to John 20:8 to hear about John’s reaction. Let me start with that. “So the other disciple who had first come to the tomb then also entered, and he saw and believed.” Meanwhile, as to Peter, he “got up and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen wrappings only; and he went a way to his home, marveling at what had happened.” I would note that the NASB has this verse bracketed as being of debatable provenance. Why is that, I wonder? I should think the reference to Peter going home after seeing this might be problematic, given that home was some 30 or 40 miles away across rough country. But, maybe Luke just means he went back to where the disciples were staying at the time.
More to the point, as a basis for claiming some difference in response between John and Peter, this is very shaky ground. It is two different correspondents reporting, with two different vocabularies from (at least) two different witnesses. It also rests rather a lot on how one chooses to translate that word thaumazoon. It is, to be sure, a word that speaks of wonder, but not in the sense of, “I wonder what that was all about.” More in the sense of, “that’s amazing! I wonder how that can be.” This has been, I should note, a fairly common reaction to Jesus and the things He has done. Perhaps I shall change my mind when I come to study that verse more thoroughly, but just now, it suffices me to say that there is insufficient cause to find Peter any less believing at that instant than was John.
There remains one further item concerning Peter that I would discuss at this juncture, and that is the change we see in the man between Simon Peter, disciple of Jesus and Peter, Apostle of Christ. He does in many ways seem a much different, much matured man in those days so soon after the Resurrection of Jesus. And, as maturing processes go, that is certainly an accelerated process. But, it is also clear that Peter is still Peter in many ways. The reaction we read about when he has been amongst the Gentiles for a time and the Jerusalem brethren come to visit, for example, speaks of the same Peter we have been getting to know, over-reacting to stimuli so often; moving in extremes of response. Yet, he is also very different. His sudden eloquence there at Pentecost, his seeming confidence working with John as they settle the church in Jerusalem, these are something a bit different. The fact that he is not pushing himself as the leader any more might also be seen as a change. True, we see James and John more directly shown as pushing for leadership positions, but Peter is always depicted actually acting in that role, whether by design or by coincidence.
He continues to have a leadership role as the church grows, but there is nothing about the Peter we find revealed in the book of Acts or in his own letters that suggests a Peter seeking power. Never is there the least hint from him that he holds an authority greater than that of the others. He is an Apostle. They are Apostles. They are all, then, bondservants of the one Lord Jesus Christ. But, I should think it is in his letters that the greater change is revealed. There is nothing there of the blustery, earthy fisherman. It is all the tender care of the shepherd. It is the true heart of a true pastor that we read in his own writing. If I accept that Mark is revealing the Gospel as Peter told it, then that same self-effacing concern for the flock is evident. Peter does not hide his former weakness, but rather almost revels in it, for in his weakness, the true extent of God’s great power and goodness is just that much more evident. He is not much different than Paul in this regard. Nor, is the reason for their being as they are any different.
The power of God has acted to rebirth and to transform. This is the normative process of Christ Jesus. I would go so far as to say it is the necessary process of Christ Jesus. The process may run more swiftly or more slowly in some. The full extent of the transformation, as we perceive the visible evidence, may be more or less thoroughgoing. But, the change has got to come. We cannot possibly continue in the way we were going, with the habits that were ours, and lay claim to the presence of the living God within. We cannot claim to have met Jesus, to have welcomed Him into our hearts, except our hearts are a much different place thereafter. We may not know total victory over past sins, indeed most men of God would concur that we most assuredly will not know such total victory in this lifetime. But, we will know lesser victories. We will notice a change of perspective, a change of habit, a change of lifestyle. Neither will we be alone in noticing the change. It will be evident to those who know us, and it will be evident whether we would have it so or not. The world notices when one of its own departs the camp. We can attempt to be hidden Christians, to be disciples that do not appear to be so. But, if we are disciples at all, then it will become evident. The change has got to come, and the change, having come, has no way to hide. May as well ask the butterfly to continue appearing as if it were yet a caterpillar. That being the case, we might just as well go bold, like Peter, like Paul.
