Fourth Presbyterian Church: A Light in the City

Good Friday, April 15, 2022 | 12:10 p.m.

So Easy to Be Like Peter

Nanette Sawyer
Associate Pastor, Fourth Presbyterian Church

Psalm 22
John 18:1–19:42

Today we are in the middle of a story. It’s not the beginning, and it’s not the end. This is a story of betrayal and denial, loss and grief. This is a story of evil that grips the hearts of humans and makes us afraid. And it’s a story of death.

But it’s also a story of resistance and the consequences of resistance when we are still in the middle of the story. Jesus confronts the powers and principalities of the world—the powers that want to maintain their power at any cost. The empire, the emperor, they strike fear into the hearts of people in order to keep them pliant, cooperative, submissive to their own domination.

The power of the empire, and the presence of the Roman soldiers in Jerusalem monitoring things during the Passover festival, lead the high priest, Caiaphas, to say that it is better for one man to die, Jesus, than to draw the attention and the anger of the empire on all the Jewish people.

The power of the empire, and the control of power by the emperor, leads Pilate to be afraid when the people taunt him and basically say, if you let this Jesus, this “king” of the Jews, live, then you’re undercutting the authority of the emperor. Pilate was afraid of how he would be seen by the emperor, by the powers that were more powerful than he. So how would he use his power when he was afraid for his own survival?

Jesus knew that the powers would come for him. He knew that the form of the death penalty at that time and place was death by crucifixion. But he would not stand down. He would not stand back from the truth: that God calls for justice, that all people are beloved by God and deserve to be treated with respect and allowed to flourish.

Jesus drew all people from the margins of society toward the center of communal life. He fed the hungry, healed the sick, saved lives. He questioned injustices and called out greed and arrogance when he saw it. This was the more difficult part, when his challenges made people feel threatened. To sidestep the threat they felt, they turned it against him.

Jesus would not condone violence or retaliation. He had no guards fighting the Roman guards. When Peter tried to retaliate against the guards and soldiers in the garden and cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant, Jesus told him to put his sword away.

We call Jesus the pioneer and perfector of our faith because of the way he teaches us to live out our faith. Put away your sword, Peter. Follow me, he said in so many ways. But standing in that courtyard while Jesus was questioned, Peter knew that just as the powers and principalities were coming for Jesus, if Peter stood with him, those same powers might come for him. And so fear led to denial. It led to inaction, passivity, watching things happen while fading into the background.

It's so easy to be like Peter and so hard to be like Jesus—Jesus, who questioned the status quo, who stood up with dignity and would not stand down.

There is a church in our presbytery, First United Church of Oak Park, that decided to take the season of Lent to immerse themselves in the writings and musical compositions and theological contributions of Black individuals, Indigenous peoples, and other persons of color. Some news outlets picked up this story, and the church has been flooded with hateful and racist mail, voicemail, and social media posts.

The church celebrated Palm Sunday entirely virtually instead of in person because the threats made it dangerous to come to the church building. That church, our sister church, is standing firm with dignity and resilience.

First United used the phrase “Fasting from Whiteness” during the forty days of Lent. That phrase drew media attention. It frightened and angered some people. We need to look for the heart of what is being done at this church, and ask ourselves, what does it mean to Fast from Whiteness?

What First United has been giving up for Lent is the idea that whiteness is supreme. That’s white supremacy—the idea that white people and historically white traditions are the best. They’re not giving up being white; they’re not giving up white people. They’re working to give up supremacy.

As we look for the heart of what they are doing, we need to look into our own hearts. What do we find there? What does this phrase “Fasting from Whiteness”bring up in us?

When we give up supremacy, we don’t give up inherent worth and value. To be White is to be created by God in the image of God, beautiful and beloved. To be Black is to be created by God in the image of God, beautiful and beloved. To be Indigenous, Native American Indian is to be created by God in the image of God, beautiful and beloved. To be Asian, Pacific Islander, having ancestry from any of the many countries that we call Asian, is to be created by God in the image of God, beautiful and beloved. Every human being is created in the image of God, beautiful and beloved.

When we can find this truth within our hearts, then we can overcome our color blindness and really see the beauty and glory of each person, each created beautiful and beloved.

Jesus stood up for this love, for this beauty. The pastor at First United Church has reported that Lent has been a joyful time as they have in worship listened to, learned from, and been inspired by the creativity and wisdom of artists, musicians, theologians, leaders, and poets of diverse identities.

We give things up during Lent, and sometimes take on additional disciplines, in order to be changed by the process. At the end of forty days we hope to have a new perspective. This year’s Lent is not the beginning of First United’s journey to be anti-racist, and it’s not the beginning of ours. It’s also not the end. This is a step on the journey. It’s the middle of the story.

When we challenge the status quo by doing something different—something that really makes a difference in people’s lives, something that changes our perspective on society, something that lifts up people who have not been lifted up, something that sets aside those in power (which is sometimes ourselves) to make space for a more diverse, rich, inclusive, and expansive community—when we do these things, we risk backlash.

It’s so hard to be like Jesus, who was obedient to God’s vision of a kingdom—a realm—of justice, unity, and peace for all peoples. He was obedient to God’s vision even at risk of his own life, even unto death, even death on a cross. It’s so hard to stand firm with dignity and resilience, even when the powers and principalities come to push us back toward death with violence and threats.

It’s so easy to be like Peter, a disciple who really wants to follow Jesus all the way but who becomes afraid and passive, fading into the background of the story of life.

Jesus knows how hard it is to follow him. He explains Peter’s self to Peter. He tells him, you’ll deny me, Peter. And even though that is true, he never stops loving Peter.

Jesus was the embodiment of love and justice. On Good Friday, it’s a good day to ask ourselves, how do we contribute to, or allow, the crucifixion of justice and love?

It’s so hard to be like Jesus, to follow him all the way.

And it’s so easy to be like Peter who said,
No, I am not his disciple.
No, I am not his follower.
No, I do not know the man.