Breaking Bread
John 13: 36-38, John 18:12-27
Breaking bread with the disciples. Sharing food. They have seen this over and over again, but this time is different. Jesus is talking about leaving. He warns them they will betray, scatter, and deny. He knows the disciples will be confused, guilty, lost, and needy. He reminds them of his scandalous unconditional love by washing their feet. ‘I know what you are going to do…and not do’, He seems to say, ‘and I am still your Savior.’ Even when you run, betray, deny, and go back to your old life, as if this Holy Last Supper did not happen, I will still be your savior. I will still love you unconditionally. Remember that I washed your feet. Remember that I love you.
Peter steps up. He says, “not me Jesus.” Peter claims to be stronger than all that. He believes he is up for the task. Jesus, says, “3 times you will deny me Peter!” Peter believes he is more committed. He has seen the power, the miracles, the Messiah, and he says, “all the other’s may scatter, but I’ve got your back Jesus.” Peter is emboldened and ready, but then he gets scared, he runs away like the others. Then the rooster crows. This failure is the precursor to the breakfast on the beach. What starts with a grace filled meal, ends with a grace filled meal. I will leave this story to Deb to blog next week, but be ready for the story of grace and know that it is a part of the story of failure. Jesus loves his people as much in their wretched failure, brokenness, and lost meandering as he does when he washes their feet in the upper room. Redemption is Holy, but so is the empty, anxious, lazy, selfish, hate-filled soul, blindly seeking redemption. Jesus loves Peter bold at the last supper, Jesus loves peter afraid as the cock crows, and Jesus loves Peter swimming naked to the beach from his boat. Our God is unchanged in His adoration of us.
My most recent Peter experience began on Wednesday night as I was putting David, our 8-year-old, to bed. Our pre-bedtime ritual often requires a significant amount of patience. Transition can be hard for an 8-year-old boy, but I pride myself on being THE expert at the task of “charming” David to bed. You can call me the “David Whisperer.” Wednesday night did not go well. I did not have the charming thing working. I somehow arrived at a place in the process when David was telling me to GET OUT of his room and I was wresting him, into his bed. I’m not a “parenting book” reader, but I’m pretty sure every child expert author would say, ‘demonstrate peace and calm when your child exhibits dis-regulation.’ None of the authors suggest, ‘scare your child into submission by angrily performing wrestling moves.’ This is sound advice and my deviation from the “book” did not work out. I gave myself a timeout and David stayed in his room. He was mad, I was madder. The rooster crowed for the 3rd time. Finally, we reached some sort of agreement for me to read him a bedtime story. After a few pages of the story, I felt David’s body relax, I felt him cuddle into my body. I stopped reading and leaned over and kissed his forehead. I said, I was sorry. He made a noise back that was the 8-year-old boy equivalent of a reciprocal apology. I asked him if my anger scared him…and he whimpered, “Yes.” I leaned over and gave him another kiss on the head and held him for a movement. Never has a dad done less to earn any love from his son, but then David, snuggled under my arm and nestled warmly in next to me. I began to read again and continued until David peacefully fell asleep next to me. My rooster moment ended with my breakfast on the beach moment. David lavishly loves me similar to Jesus with Peter. I did not earned it. We don’t earn it, but in our best and worst, Jesus extravagantly loves us.