Did you ever wonder where the sword came from? Preaching has been heard, but without hearing so much as the rattle of a scabbard. Healings have been seen, but without seeing the slightest gleam of metal. Bread has been broken and shared without using something even as sharp as a butter knife. Even on the last night, Jesus doesn’t ask his disciples to be holy warriors, but prayer warriors.
Then, swoop! Out of apparently nowhere, here comes the sword of Peter, and there goes the ear of Malchus. That’s an odd break in the story, isn’t it?
Here’s something else that’s odd. Instead of this sword blow precipitating an immediate “knock down - drag out,” there is this moment where everyone but Peter stops in disbelief. The moment lasts long enough for Jesus to say, “No more of this.” And there isn’t any more of that. Jesus doesn’t lose one of his people, yet neither does the other side. Jesus doesn’t save the life of Peter with a “powerful” sword, but with a “gentle” restoration of a severed ear. Is it chasing the rabbit to ask which one reveals greater power, and which one might lead to stronger community?
The act of Peter is totally out of character with the nature of his community (even though he doesn’t get that yet). Yet isn’t the idea of the fierce Israelite warrior a part of the Hebrew culture? Doesn’t it exist even today? Peter has heard of many swords in his study of scripture; his mistake was in thinking that God’s story involved swords in the hands of God’s people at this stage of the narrative. Peter was wrong, and more than that, he was out of step with the community of Jesus.
Yet, if we step back, we’ll remember that there were at least two rebels in the Garden that night. Two souls who did not understand the community of Jesus. Two men who misunderstood which way the story of the people of God was supposed to go. Peter and Judas.
Yesterday we discussed rebellion against the people of God, and the question, “What do we do when someone in the community makes up their own rules?” In the story of the Garden, we have two different examples of rebellion against the community: Peter and Judas. Yet the outcome of their making up their own rules, their anti-social behavior, is so different. Why?
Judas not only rebelled against the community, he withdrew from it. He pulled away from the guidance of the head of that community, and from the wisdom of the community itself. What if Judas had not removed himself? Could the story have been different? After all, Paul killed more people in the Jesus community than Judas did. We’ll never know because he never came back, did he?
But what about Peter? Peter keeps messing up, but he keeps coming back to the community. He is knocked silly more times than Rocky Balboa, but he keeps coming back. He submits to the counsel of Jesus as the head of the body. He submits, even as an apostle, to the community (Acts 15). And he even submits to the wisdom of a fellow member of the community, Paul (Gal 2).
We are all going to make mistakes. We are all going to do things that weaken, instead of strengthen, the community. But as long as we doggedly remain within the community, there is hope. We must repent when we find wrong in our lives. We must yield to the leadership of Jesus, and allow his Word to convict us when we are wrong and to affirm us when we are right. We must submit ourselves in accountability to our brothers and sisters in Christ so that they can help us remain among them.
If we don’t do these things, then we are like the sinful man that Paul mentions in Corinthians. He would not be self guided, he would not listen to the voice of Jesus, and he would not listen to his community. So what was the worst possible consequence that Paul could imagine to shake this man into self-awareness? Not swords. Not fines. Not writing him up in a brotherhood journal. The most startling possible wake-up call was the withdrawal of the community from him. Not forever. Not as if the community could decide who was in and out. The purpose was to make the physical world line up with the spiritual realities. The purpose was to help the man remember that he was a part of a community that shared blessings and expectations. The purpose was to call him back into community lest he become another Judas.
Truth is, there will always be people like Peter, and there will always be people like Judas.
Who are we going to be? Who are we going to help our children to be? Will we allow ourselves to admit that we might be wrong, that we could be out of step with our community, that we might need to change? Or will we march to the beat of a different drummer until we are no longer a part of the band at all? Will we call people back, or will we shrug our shoulders and say, “Not my problem. Not my child”? Will we be a community that heals or severs? We know which one Jesus calls us to be.
Lord Jesus Christ, help us to be your community.
Grace and peace,
Ron
