But Peter denied it again. A little later some of the other bystanders confronted Peter and said, “You must be one of them, because you are a Galilean.” Peter swore, “A curse on me if I’m lying—I don’t know this man you’re talking about!” [Mark 14 (NLT)]
Described as a “preaching genius…like no other preacher you have ever heard,” the late Rev. Fred Craddock was well-known for including stories in his sermons. He told one that took place during the early 60s in a diner in the deep South. Although the white Craddock sat in a booth and was served with courtesy and consideration, he silently watched the diner’s manager treat a Black man at the counter with rudeness, disdain, and open contempt. Although offended by the man’s racist behavior, Craddock remained silent. It was when he walked out of the diner after finishing his meal that the preacher heard a rooster crow. A signal of his betrayal, the crowing told the preacher that, by ignoring one of the “least of these”, he’d ignored Jesus! His silence was as much a betrayal of the Lord as were Peter’s denials!
Of course, to understand the impact of Craddock’s story on him and those who heard him tell it, you must be familiar with the story of Peter and his denial of Jesus. After finishing what would be known as the “Last Supper,” Jesus and the disciples went out to the Mount of Olives. When Jesus predicted that all the disciples would desert Him that night, Peter and the others protested saying they’d never deny Him. Outraged at the thought of denying the Lord, Peter insisted, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” Jesus, however, told the overconfident disciple that he would, indeed, deny knowing the Lord three times before the rooster crowed. Within a few hours, the man who claimed a willingness to join Jesus in prison and death denied knowing Jesus three times before the rooster announced the break of day with his crow.
The stories of Peter and Fred Craddock remind us that our faith is more vulnerable than we think. While I’ve never heard an actual rooster crow after denying the Lord, like those men, I’ve denied Jesus every time I’ve ignored His face in the faces of God’s children. While we may not have denied knowing Jesus as did Peter, like Craddock, we’ve denied Him when, like the goats in Jesus’ parable, we fail to be His disciples. We deny following the Galilean whenever we fail to be the hands of Jesus and serve the needy, to be the voice of Jesus and speak for the disenfranchised, or be the feet of Jesus and walk the extra mile for our neighbor.
Although Scripture assures us of God’s provision, presence, and power, when push comes to shove, it’s hard to fully trust a God we don’t see and whose ways we can’t fully understand! That’s when Satan gets busy behind the scenes instilling doubt, cowardice, and shame into our hearts. Rather than trust God’s strength more than our own, we begin to fear failure, rejection, and involvement. Rather than hear His call and cede control to Him, we’re like the priest and Levite in the parable of the Good Samaritan—we turn a blind eye to the suffering and a deaf ear to their cries!
We are fallen people living in a fallen world and, at times, we will fail to be the people Jesus calls us to be. We will fail to see Jesus in our midst and the cock will crow! Nevertheless, we must never allow those failures to defeat us. Peter—the one who lied three times with his blatant denial of Jesus—did not remain a prisoner to his fear or shame. He became the Apostle who boldly spoke of Jesus to the high council and, despite the threats, continued to speak of Christ until he, like his Lord, was crucified! Craddock didn’t let his failure stop him either. He told his story and others like it and, thirty years later, the man who remained silent when he should have spoken was named one of the twelve most influential preachers in America. Neither man was defined by his failures and neither are we. In nature, goats can never become sheep but, in God’s kingdom, by the power of the Holy Spirit, they can!
All men will be Peters in their bragging tongue, and most men will be Peters in their base denial; but few men will be Peters in their quick repentance. [Owen Feltham]
Having quoted from Isaiah when proclaiming the Messiah’s arrival, we know John knew Isaiah’s prophecies. The Messiah would “bind up the brokenhearted [and] proclaim liberty to captives and freedom to prisoners,” [61:1] but, after spending more than a year confined to a dark cell, John had neither liberty nor freedom. It’s no wonder he doubted.
Most of us probably spent Saturday preparing for Easter. We may have done last minute grocery shopping, prepped for Easter dinner, purchased an Easter lily, decorated eggs, assembled Easter baskets, snacked on jelly beans, or hidden plastic eggs around the yard. The previous day’s service on Good Friday had been a somber one but we knew the following day’s worship would be one of joy and celebration. While we may have sung “Were you There When They Crucified My Lord?” on Friday, we knew that we’d be singing “Christ the Lord is Risen Today” on Sunday.
After pointing out Jesus as the “Lamb of God,” some of John the Baptizer’s disciples left John to follow Jesus. Later, John’s remaining disciples reported that Jesus was baptizing (it actually was His disciples) and wanted to know whose purification ritual of baptism was valid. With many turning from John to Jesus, the Baptizer’s disciples were confused, concerned, and probably a little envious. Apparently, they forgot that John’s original mission was that of forerunner—the one who would prepare the way for the Messiah and point the way to the Lamb of God. Knowing that he wasn’t the bridegroom but only His friend, the Baptizer humbly affirmed his position by telling his disciples that Jesus must become more prominent while he became less and less important. J.C. Ryle likened the Baptizer’s role to that of a star growing paler and paler as the sun rises until the star completely disappears in the light of the sun. John clearly understood that he was to fade in the light of the Son.
A century of dike-building, agricultural development, and population growth has destroyed much of Florida’s wetlands and threatened the survival of dozens of animals like Florida panthers, Snail Kites, and Wood Storks. The White Ibis, however, is an exception. Having adapted to the new urban landscape, large groups of ibis happily graze the lawns of subdivisions, parks, and golf courses. They’ve found it easier to poke at the soil for a predictable buffet of grubs, earthworms, and insects than to forage in the remaining wetlands for aquatic prey like small fish, frogs, and crayfish. Once wary of humans, these urbanized ibis pay little or no attention to people as they follow one another across our lawns.
I read a devotion that suggested substituting our own personal anxieties and concerns for the troubles listed by Paul in Romans 8. Perhaps your version would read: “And I am convinced that nothing can ever separate me from God’s love. Neither old age nor loss of loved ones, neither cancer nor dementia, neither my anxiety about my wayward child nor my reservations about finances—not even the powers of terrorism and hate can separate me from God’s love. No hurricanes, earthquakes, pandemics, or wars—indeed, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate me from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
