Who, Me?

At the cusp of spring, our family descended on the deck, the air still cooled by large patches of snow from winter past. When the blaze in our fire bowl beckoned, we sat round, young and older, chatting and reminiscing. Grateful for the warmth.

Maybe it was more than the obvious draw of heat to thaw a chilled body; but perhaps, like my family, it was only that which Peter grasped at first. A mere temporary comfort. But indulged long, it set the scene for Jesus’ most blustery disciple’s greatest mistake. And so, the desire for a little warmth led to a desire for a little safety—and a great fear of being found guilty by association.

“Nope. Don’t understand—never heard of ‘im.”

Cock-a-doodle. Brush off a spark.

“Huh? Oh…that rebel Teacher! Don’t know him. No, damn it, he’s no friend of mine.”

Doodle do.

Jesus had warned him. “Before the cock crows twice, you will deny me three times.” Peter had denied that too. How little we know ourselves.

For what would you deny Christ? Today. Right where you sit. Or, for what have you already denied our Lord? A little warmth? A raise? A lover? A better position? White-knuckled fear? What ear do you leave open to the Tempter?

Our denials may be less overt than Peter’s. They are denials nonetheless.

Let Peter’s story remind you how yours could end: Peter, heartbroken by his own betrayal, found restoration and forgiveness from the Saviour he denied. His passion unfurled, he lived long, serving the Christ he denied. Died for him too—a martyr, willingly found guilty by association. Still chilled, perhaps, by the winter past memory of his long-ago denial, but heated through with a fiery love for Christ.

Respond in Prayer

Beloved Friend Jesus, forgive my many “fireside denials.” Turn me inside out and upside down with love for you, then set me ablaze to warm a cold and needy world. But first, strengthen my rubber backbone.

Kathleen Gibson