I recall the chain of events this way: a month and a half ago I received an email from a dear younger friend that requested input on resources dealing with the subject of emotional suffering. I scoured my kindle and hardcover library; finding eleven resources, they were passed on. Since a good deal of time has passed since approaching the subject, myself, I began surfing, only to run headlong into a music artist I haven’t heard of in twenty five years or longer. Michael Card. His song, Lift Up The Suffering Symbol, which I had never heard, popped up. I like it. I see he has also become an author. One title drew my interest: Fragile Stone. Of Card’s explanation for writing this book, he says: "The ultimate reason for getting to know Peter," is so together we might better know Jesus. For the story of Peter is the story of Jesus. Perhaps, if you and I do our best, the same will be said of us someday." For me, that someday is today.
I’ve found the book well written, very worthwhile, especially since I’ve found it immeasurably comforting that Jesus gave Simon the name “Cephas,” or Peter, before Cephas had done much of anything. Before Peter had even determined to follow Jesus, let alone serve or love him as the Christ. Before Peter had muttered his denials of knowing Jesus or had one of his moments of blurted insight. At the beginning of John, Jesus calls Peter the “Rock,” before He had reason to call him “Satan.”
I ask: What does this say? First, it says a great deal about who Jesus is. He is willing to vouch for me. Before and during the times I am standing around with my hands in pocket, thinking about what I stand for, He is willing to stand up for me. And second, it’s reminding me that I am more than the sum of my blunders and failings, as well as my victories and my bright spots. Bettyann and I just talked about this very thing the other evening at the dinner table. As the apostle Paul wrote to the Romans: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” Before we had a chance to prove ourselves to each other –let alone Him, before we had a chance to fall on our faces in our marriage and life in general or say something fairly smart, Christ knew that He would die to show us the reach of His love. And He has.
Then there is the disciple Peter that makes me feel okay about myself. He is a loud statement to my hopelessness, to my skepticism, to my guilt-ridden mind that God can take my doubts, my regrets, the hopelessness of my past or my present position, and create something solid by giving me the Son. O yes, it’s in Peter I find that pains of regret and faithlessness have left a permanent mark, but that even scars are reminders of the living hope I profess. Or as Peter calls it, in the first book he wrote, chapter 1,verses 24-25 “the Word that will not wither.”
Even so, there have come those moments, when I take a look back at my multitude of moments of faithlessness or foolishness, those marks of humiliation, the bitter sting of missed and lost opportunities, it is hard to see much beyond regret and remorse, even if I have been told, and conceded that Jesus has forgiven me. I have given question; is there more to be seen in the weight of my past, the glimpses of guilty motives, disappointments, and poor behavior? The testimony of Peter himself is that yes, very definitely, there is.
Peter’s passion for Christ was no doubt shaped by the pain and humiliation of denying Him. Just as Paul wrote to Timothy: “If we are faithless, God remains faithful, for God cannot deny Himself” Scars indeed have a way of reminding me that I’m alive, participating in this fragile thing called life. Some of these scars have reminded me lately me that I am not an island, that I need people, that I desperately need a savior, that I need You, Father, in all that I face. When I look at the scars on top of scars, I’m reminded that I am healed or being healed. But I realize that even Peter’s most indelible marks were nothing beside the mark of the risen Christ upon his life. And so with mine!
When Jesus appeared to the gathered, frightened disciples after the horror of the cross, his invitation was: “See my hands and my feet, that it is me. Touch me and see.” The disciples had gathered together to discuss the rumors some had heard that Christ was alive and out of the grave, risen from the cruel death they had witnessed just days earlier. They were disoriented and afraid, and Jesus told them to look at his hands and feet, which had been pierced. And a lump now rises in my throat as His invitation to Thomas is, “Put your finger here, and see my hands; and put out your hand, and place it in my side.” It was to His closest friends, Jesus said, “Look at my scars, see that it is me. Recognize me by my scars; they will point you to God.” And so it is for me, at this moment!
Thank You, Father God, for making Yourself available through Your Son, Jesus. I say amen to the fact that far beyond any scar I might bear, the wounded hands of Christ are still available and open, touching my disfigured world with His own humanity. At moments of frailty and questioning, may Your Holy Spirit remind me that He has been crushed for my iniquities. By His stripes I am healed. I have little doubt that it is this same piercing reality of Jesus bearing the scars of my failure, carrying my pain, and taking my shame, that Peter had in mind when he dynamically instructed me to throw all my anxieties upon Jesus because he cares about me! Amen
