Peter's Denial and Restoration by the Sea

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That's what I keep saying. But the truth the truth, it wasn't the temperature. It was fear and pride. It was the shattering realization that I'm not as brave as I think I am when bravery actually costs something. Three denials, three chances to stand firm, three moments where warmth won, and yet, even then, even knowing what I would say before I said it, he had washed my feet. He had broken bread with me, and he had called me rock. The fire in that courtyard smelled like failure, but it wasn't the only fire in my story. There would be another. One day, one day by the sea. Another question asked three times, another chance to answer differently. But that night that night, it was cold. I chose the fire over the flame. I chose safety over the savior. [00:38:43] (62 seconds)  #ComfortOverCourage Download clip

I smelled it before I saw him. The charcoal. It had sharp, unmistakable smell that doesn't just reach your nose but reach back backward into memory, into my failure. It reached into the moment you wish you could relive and undo. The moment you knew you made the most unthinkable mistake. Same smell, same kind of fire. Only this time, it wasn't in a courtyard. Thick with accusation and treason, it wasn't surrounded by soldiers and servant girls in the glow of torches against stone walls. It wasn't filled with the odor of disgust and duplicity. This time it was dawn. The soft light was breaking over the waves as it breathed in and out new life. A fire on the shore. [00:50:02] (51 seconds)  #CharcoalMemories Download clip

Come and have breakfast, he told us. It wasn't a confrontation. This wasn't a courtroom. I wasn't on trial. It was just breakfast. We sat around the fire. No one dared ask, who are you? We knew. Resurrection has a weight to it, a quiet authority even. He took the bread and gave it to us. The fish soon followed, the same hands that had been pierced serving us. The king of glory kicking cooking over coals. This this wasn't abstract forgiveness or some theological concept. This was mercy. Mercy that you could taste. Mercy that fills your empty places without first demanding an explanation. [00:54:20] (42 seconds)  #MercyYouCanTaste Download clip

And in that split second, I realized something about myself that I didn't wanna know. I wanted the messiah. I just didn't want the suffering. I wanted the kingdom. I just didn't want the cross shaped road to get there. So for the third time for the third time, I denied it. I denied him again. The other day, I swore that I called down curses on myself to make it convincing. I do not know him. Not just I'm not his disciple, not I wasn't there. No. I do not know him. That's how far fear will take you. Take loyalty, at some distance, and you get disownment. And immediately, before the last syllable finished leaving my mouth, a rooster crowed. [00:36:05] (51 seconds)  #WantedGloryNotSuffering Download clip

I didn't need anyone to count. My heart already knew. Somewhere inside in the middle of false witnesses and twisted accusations, he knew. He always knows. He turned and looked at me. I don't know how to describe that look. It wasn't shock. It wasn't anger. It wasn't I told you so. It was knowing and sorrow. It was love that had already accounted for this failure before it ever happened, and that's what undid me. Not the rooster, not the exposure, it was the look. I had sworn I would follow him to prison and to death, but I couldn't follow him through a conversation. I had drawn a sword against soldiers, but I folded under the easiest of questions. [00:37:23] (49 seconds)  #LookOfKnowingLove Download clip

Although a question, it was not a guess. It was a memory, and suddenly, I wasn't just warming my hands anymore. I was back under olive trees, swinging a sword I barely knew how to use. Back when courage was loud and reckless and uncomplicated, he had been there. He had seen me. This wasn't about association. No. This was about identification. If he had pressed, others would listen. If others listened, someone would connect the dots. And if someone would connect the dots, I could be inside with him before the night's over. I could lose everything. And in that split second, I realized something about myself that I didn't wanna know. I wanted the messiah. I just didn't want the suffering. [00:35:27] (48 seconds)  #SeenUnderOlives Download clip

That's the scary part, isn't it? How easy it is. You think betrayal is gonna feel violent, like breaking glass or tearing down a wall, but sometimes, like now, feels like merely adjusting your coat and stepping inside. There was a fire in the courtyard. You could smell it, sharp, smoky, bitter, the kind that clings to your clothes so even after you leave, you carry it with you. They were all standing around it. Officers, servants, people who who didn't know him or worse, people who did and didn't care. And I stood with them warming my hands. That's what I tell myself anyway. I was just trying to stay warm. [00:32:37] (45 seconds)  #WarmingByTheWrongFire Download clip

This was not gonna be like last time. Last time where I denied him three times, last time where I chose warmth over love, this time would be different. Yes, Lord. You know that I love you. Feed my lambs, he tells me, before I can even confirm and give him my word. Simon, son of John, do you love me? A second time, I'm asked to confirm what I know to be true in my heart with no hesitation. Yes, Lord. You know that I love you. Take care of my sheep, he says to me. I am ready to feed his lambs. I'm ready to care for his sheep. And before I can get a word out for a third time, asks, Simon, son of John, do you love me? [00:55:43] (42 seconds)  #FeedMyLambs Download clip

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