Ever felt this way?
I have. Someone speaks terribly about Jesus, or makes mockery of Him, and I’m ready to come to His defense. Usually that happens by trying to be clever and say something that reveals some inherent wickedness about the other person. Other times I might want to say things and ask questions that would reveal how little of knowledge the other person has about Jesus, thus making them look absurd in front of others. And there are still times where I’ve just said something harsh in response to something like that in hopes that the person talking down on Jesus would feel belittled or stupid.
One of Jesus’ disciples did something like this, only he drew blood. Matthew 26:47-51 tells us that one of Jesus’ disciples (Peter [see John 18:10]) lashed out on his Jesus. Jesus had just finished praying in the garden of Gethsemane and Peter had just failed to stay awake with Jesus while He prayed. But now that the crowds were coming to take Jesus away, Peter must have figured that he wasn’t going to fail this time.
“47 While he was still speaking, Judas came, one of the twelve, and with him a great crowd with swords and clubs, from the chief priests and the elders of the people.
48 Now the betrayer had given them a sign, saying, The one I will kiss is the man; seize him.
49 And he came up to Jesus at once and said, Greetings, Rabbi! And he kissed him.
50 Jesus said to him, Friend, do what you came to do. Then they came up and laid hands on Jesus and seized him.
51 And behold, one of those who were with Jesus stretched out his hand and drew his sword and struck the servant of the high priest and cut off his ear.” Matt. 26:47-51
What do you think motivated Peter?
I’m not entirely sure, but I can’t help to think of a couple things.
First: Peter is just a passionate and impulsive guy. After all, he opens his mouth and says things he has no idea what he’s talking about (Matt. 26:34), asks Jesus to let him do things that he ends up sinking in (Matt. 14:28), and our present event where he lashes out and cuts a dude’s ear off. Peter is impulsive.
Second: This is something Peter knows he can do. What I mean is that all the other times, Peter had failed to “live up” the standard, so to speak. And just before this event, Peter told Jesus that he would never deny Jesus, and Jesus responds that he WOULD deny Him. Now, he’s in a situation that he can control. Here comes a guard, they’re going to take my Jesus, so I’m going to show them that I’m loyal!
Wack! Off with the ear!
What happened next?
52 Then Jesus said to him, Put your sword back into its place. For all who take the sword will perish by the sword.
53 Do you think that I cannot appeal to my Father, and he will at once send me more than twelve legions of angels?
54 But how then should the Scriptures be fulfilled, that it must be so? Matt. 26:52-54
Basically, Jesus tells Peter that he can take care of Himself, and that He knows what He is doing. Again, Peter failed to understand the big idea, and Jesus heals the one whom Peter attacked.
When I think about this, I think about the way I have responded to people when they make fun of my Jesus. What happens? I do something to maim them, and Jesus has to clean up my mess and heal the person I maimed. I’m not saying that we ought not to engage in apologetics. I love apologetics. What I am saying is that I—personally—have a natural tendency to attack my accusers, and for that matter, Jesus’ accusers.
But is that how we’re supposed to respond?
It’s easy for me to cut off someone’s ear, or to make them look stupid in front of others. What’s hard is loving them in spite of their attacks on Jesus.
So how do you respond? Do you come out of the gate slashing off ears? Or are you able to find a way to love the person in the midst of them attacking your Jesus? And if you love them, tell me, I’d love to know. I want to hear it all—how you’ve attacked, and how you’ve loved.
Go ahead, spill the beans.
—Jonathan
Photo by Marco Veringa
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good post
I think my other tendency is to the the Peter after the garden arrest. The one who no longer went on the offensive, but instead chose to deny being with Jesus.
No, I've never denied Jesus with explicit words ("Nope, I'm not a Christian")
But I have denied Christ by my silence.
I've denied Him by a soft laughter that eases the pressure, lets me look as if I am playing along when on the inside my gut is turning over.
I've denied Jesus by turning my head the other way – acting as if I just pretend nothing is going on / I don't see or heart it, then I'm absolved from my duties.
Sometimes my desire to see peace, to see a relationship intact, to be respected, to preserve my good standing, get's the best of me.
Wow, Daniel, this is some deep stuff you revealed here. Thanks for being so open man. You reveal something that I think would be good for all of us to face within ourselves. We've all denied Jesus just like you've mentioned. This just hits right at the heart. And doesn't this reveal something about our hearts, and how we need to maintain a repentant lifestyle? I think it does.
If we look at what we do—not what we think—we will see where our treasure lies, and thus our hearts. And if we silence our witness of our Lord, then our treasure is more about self than it is our Savior. May God give us the boldness to love him in our deeds by not denying him by our silence.
I’ve definitely done the Peter-in-Gethsemane thing! I have a terrible tendency to take any insult or attack on the Father, the Son or the Holy Spirit as a sort of personal offense; as if the mocker was making a jab at my own husband or child. I am a hot-tempered Irish-Italian-German for whom the word brash was exclusively coined; the only time I’m cool-headed is when I forget my cap in the winter.
The people most capable of pushing the plunger on the dynamite of my temper are my unbelieving parents. My first instinct is to grab a sledgehammer and pound the Gospel into them. Years of my family’s pagan conditioning towards belligerent arguing and below-the-belt tactics had left me wholly ill-equipped to present the Truth of the Word in a Christ-like loving and patient way. And more than once, my mouth has spat streams of scorching napalm instead of Living Water. On the bright side, though, is the fact that each blowup shows me how much the Spirit has been working on (and in) me. The fact that the incidents have become fewer and my temper is checked more often is a refreshing and encouraging testimony to the Father’s capacity to transform even the most inflammatory of sinners! And when an incident occurs I am convicted to the bones and humbly beg for forgiveness from the Father, as well as my parents.
So even in the eye of my own self-created storms, I can see the Hand of the Potter shaping my clay into something wonderful. Thank You, Father!