Sharing Peter’s Shame

I hope you had a great Easter.  No doubt at some time over the past week you will have heard at least one mention of Peter and his tragic denial of Jesus.  Both Matthew and Luke tell us that he went outside and wept bitterly.  (Matthew 26:75; Luke 22:62).   Matthew states this was after hearing the cockerel crow and Luke adds that the Lord looked straight at Peter.  Leading up to Easter I tried to imagine how Peter was feeling in that moment.  What made him weep so bitterly?  Was he weeping for Jesus or over his own failure? Perhaps both, but certainly over his own failure.

We need to try to put ourselves into Peter’s shoes.  He was caught up in a dangerous situation and everything seemed out of control.  The Easter tragedy in Lahore brings home the fact that there are Christians in various parts of the world where just being a Christian puts your life at risk.  Clearly, Peter felt his life to be at risk or he would never have denied knowing Jesus.

But no matter what the mitigating circumstances, Peter knew that he had let the Lord down, and that he was not the man he thought he was.  In the light of that I would like to put my hand up to acknowledge the times when my behaviour has demonstrated that I am not the man I want to be.

The first time I received this salutary lesson took place in 1964.  I had joined an interdenominational mission led by people from Pentecostal churches.  Here, for the first time, I heard about the importance of being filled with the Holy Spirit. They spoke about an experience of being baptised in or with the Holy Spirit. Several of my friends from the Baptist Church and the Salvation Army who worked alongside me in this Mission had obvious experiences of the Holy Spirit coming on them in times of corporate prayer.  I was keen to receive anything that God could give that would make me a more effective evangelist.  But time and again, while others received a blessing I came away disappointed.

What made this difficult to accept was my own opinion of myself. I knew that I was at least as good a Christian as my friends.  In fact, if anything, I was more committed, and something of a spiritual leader among my peers.  So why was God withholding the blessing?   All I could see was that the problem was at God’s end of the promise; I was really keen and longing to receive the promised gift of the Holy Spirit in a similar if not the same way as my peers had experienced.

Occasionally our weekend team ministry across the denominations would take us to a Pentecostal church.  This was really embarrassing as lovely older men and women would ask if I had received this baptism in the Spirit, and I would have to confess I had not.  Sometimes they prayed with me but still God withheld the blessing. This situation reached a climax when the team was booked to conduct the Sunday services for a rural Assemblies of God church.  In the evening service, the leader of the team included in his message a point about the baptism of the Holy Spirit.  I knew that everyone else on the team had experienced this and assumed that all the nice Pentecostal people in the church had too.  It seemed clear to me that he was preaching a pointed sermon and that it was directed towards me.

As he spoke I rehearsed before God this man’s many faults.  He had an unpleasant judgmental attitude towards others, he was destructively critical and showed little sign or real love for sisters and brothers, over whom he lorded himself.  How dare he preach at me, who was kind, considerate of others and majored on the importance of love as a hallmark of our faith!

As I poured out my own condemnation on the one who regularly judged others, suddenly the Holy Spirit withdrew from me.  Up until that point I am not sure how aware I was of the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life.  But, in that sudden moment, his withdrawal was as dramatic as if the lights had suddenly gone out or the temperature had dropped ten degrees.  And I knew why.  I was not the man I thought I was or wanted to be.  While the sermon progressed I was having my own encounter with God.  I prayed, “Lord take away the bitterness and baptise me with your love”.  I had reached a point where I knew m self as a failure.

Hardly had the prayer left my mind, when a fountain of love and joy erupted from somewhere deep within me. As I felt the Holy Spirit’s return I let out a quiet “Hallelujah!”  As I did so a second fountain erupted from deep within.  The more I spontaneously responded in silent praise and thanks, the more the blessing came. (See John 7:38)  I was overwhelmed.  I had to sit through the closing hymn as my legs had turned to jelly.  I have never been drunk but I think that would be something like that. 

Sadly, on the way home that evening I listened to the team leader criticising another team member, but all I could do was laugh because all I felt was brotherly love towards a naturally un-loveable person.  How true it is that the Holy Spirit spreads the love of God into our hearts (See Romans 5:5).

I would like to be able to say that this was the only time that I let down both God and myself, but that would not be true. Like Paul who wrote to the Philippians, I know that I am not perfect.  I also know that if I am ever to be the kind of man I would want to be, it will only come about as a miracle of grace.  Perhaps God needs us to keep that awareness of our failure so that it keeps us hungering for God and holiness.

From the diary

Thank you for your prayers during the past ten days.  I praise God for his blessing.  Particular highlights include a service of thanksgiving for the life of Alan Buxton, one of our members at Yelvertoft.  A large congregation attended as we gave thanks for his life and celebrated the gospel.  On Tuesday I shared in a meeting for the Congregational Federation Accreditation group in Nottingham and on Wednesday travelled to London to share in an interesting meeting for the Free Churches Group.

On Good Friday I shared in leading a Stations of the Cross service at the prison.  While some aspects did not fit my personal theology I found this to be a precious time and it set me up for the communion service that followed in the village church. On Easter Sunday I had the privilege of leading worship at the prison before travelling the 17 miles to minister at the village church.  Together we share the joy, exclaiming, “Hallelujah!  Christ is risen!”

This week I shall be in the prison on Tuesday, and attending a Thanksgiving Service for the life of Alan Tarling who was a Christian friend and good influence in my life since my teens, and who served as a former trustee of Sunrise Ministries.  Normally, this week would be a semi-holiday as Doreen and I would have attended a church leaders conference.  Instead the time will be filled with various activities in Market Harborough and, at the end of the week in Sussex.

Thank you for your prayers that the Lord will provide an Anglican colleague for the prison chaplaincy team.  Interviews are being held.  Please keep praying for the members of Yelvertoft Congregational Church as they contemplate my forthcoming retirement from that aspect of ministry.

Thank you for your fellowship.

Barry