Friday of the Seventh Week of Easter

 Lectionary: 301

"Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?"
Simon Peter answered him, "Yes, Lord, you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."

Several times in the past I have reflected upon this last conversation between the Risen Lord and his right hand man, Peter. I have noted especially the evocative power of charcoal to remind Peter of his denial of Jesus. He and another disciple had followed the arresting mob from Gethsemane into Herod's courtyard. They certainly had no plan; they could not prevent whatever was going to happen. 

They might at least have admitted they were Galilean associates of the Nazarene, and were concerned about what was happening. But, when accosted by a girl about their accents, Peter vehemently denied any association with him. The other disciple -- whom we suspect was John -- remained as silent as ever. 

If nothing was said to either of them about the thrice denial when they returned to the Upper Room, it remained nonetheless as a shameful regret. Everyone certainly remembered Peter's loud declaration that he would stand by the Lord regardless of the danger. But no one had acted courageously -- the Spirit had gone out of them and left them defeated, hiding, and terrified in the Upper Room. Perhaps they quietly admitted there was nothing they could do. Nothing could have stopped what happened, but that did not excuse their cowardice.  

Peter's loud denial certainly came back to hit him like a speeding freight train when he smelled the charcoal fire by the seashore. And beyond the smell of charcoal was the Lord's question, "Do you love me more than these?"

This recalls another unfortunate incident: 

"Peter said to him, “Even though all should have their faith shaken, mine will not be.” Mark 14:29

He declared himself superior to everyone else. We can imagine how that remark went down with the others. After all the years of Jesus's training, his teaching about humility, and about aspiring to be the least of all and servant of all, there was Peter putting himself above the rest with that demeaning boast. 

When the Lord appeared by the Sea of Tiberias, that remark had also to be recalled, and atonement offered. If we don't hear Peter admitting his sin and apologizing to the disciples, we do hear his remorse after the third question: 

Peter was distressed that he had said to him a third time, “Do you love me?” and he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Atonement may come easily when a mother catches her four year old child misbehaving. He has only to settle down, or take a nap, and all is forgiven. But it's not so easy between adults. Sometimes, if the incident really is no big deal, it can be dismissed with a simple fuggedaboutit. 

But insulting remarks like Peter's "though all should have their faith shaken, mine will not be" can resurface years later, especially when a similar incident occurs. Then we say, "They were always like that!" and suppose they never really changed at all. 

John 21 is a story of defeated, deflated disciples who have lost the spirit. They've got nothing to do but go fishing. When the Lord appears to them, he comes to inspire them, but they will also be reminded that, without the Holy Spirit, you were always like that. 

Our worse instincts don't go away because we've not acted that way recently. Without God's spirit they can reappear. We might not have the energy for the old sins, or even much interest, but the Self remains ever watchful to rise against the Lord's goad. 

We pray. We confess our sins -- the same old sins -- time after time. And ask the Lord to fill our sails with his Holy Spirit, for we are, and will always be, helpless.