Part 3

The fact is that in giving to the world a higher ethical ideal in regard to the sanction of service Jesus must have well understood the difficulties that lay before Him. Perhaps this is why He was so patient with the selfish hopes of His followers in regard to their personal preferment. He must have known that the whole trend of history was against the new teaching. It is easy for us now to say that the intrusion of self-interest in any good work vitiates its value to a great extent; but must we not reflect that we owe this conception to Christ? Society is now saturated with the ethical teaching of the Man of Nazareth. We are confronted with the observation that in its moral tendencies Society is moving toward an ideal which was exhibited to the world nearly nineteen hundred years ago. We are not reaching forward to an indeterminate something in the region of morals, we are moving toward a standard exhibited in a life. Further, it is easy for us, reading the New Testament, to hastily judge and condemn the obtuseness and unspirituality of the little band that surrounded Jesus. The arrogance of Peter and the selfish intrigues of the sons of Zebedee move us to impatience. How much worthier and kinder the attitude of our Divine Master! He knew that a moral revolution could not be effected in an hour. His object was to train the men who should transform the world. If He could possibly influence the twelve men whom His Father had given Him so that they could know what they ought to feel and do, He could afford to be content. The gates of Hades should not prevail against the advancing Gospel.

What, then, was His ideal? It was nothing less than complete renunciation of all self-interest without any diminution of energy and effort in service for the good of the world. Jesus repudiated ambition in any form as the dynamic of human aspiration and endeavour. He required from His disciples the completest self-renunciation, combined with enthusiastic self-devotion to the duty of making the world better. To give up self was not to give up service, it was simply the substitution of a higher motive for a lower. This explains in a measure why Christianity came to replace the Stoic and Epicurean philosophies. Stoicism is exhibited at its best, perhaps, in the nobly active life of the greatest of the Antonines. Its ideal was rigid devotion to duty, that of Christ was service inspired by love. Ambition is a mode of self service, yet if we may so expand the meaning as to make it include the Christian principle we might say that in the place of ambition for the sake of self Christianity substitutes ambition for the sake of God. In each case it is love for a person that supplies the motive for the highest human endeavours. But how incomparably grander and stronger is the Christian principle than that which it replaced! All useful or desirable things that men are accustomed to do for themselves Christianity requires them to do for God. When the apostles finally came to understand this new commandment their Gospel became a resistless force, and whenever since their day the Church has succeeded in doing the same Christianity has arisen in newness of life.

[1] Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful. Sect. xii.

VI.

Peter Thinks His Sacrifice Complete.

His Consequent Expectations.

In the three synoptical Gospels we have an account of a remarkable conversation between Peter and his Lord in regard to the reward promised to those who took service in the Kingdom of God. The occasion was one of special interest. A rich young ruler came to Jesus to ask the momentous question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" The disciples appear to have been much impressed by the incident--Peter, perhaps, most of all, for in Mark's Gospel we have the best account of the matter. Jesus, he says, was attracted by the simplicity, humility and earnestness of one who certainly ran the risk of incurring odium by stooping to ask advice of the new Teacher. Peter has preserved for us in one vivid sentence something of the very aspect of the Master in His final reply, "_Jesus, looking upon him, loved him, and said unto him, 'One thing thou lackest; go, sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me._'" This test was too much for the seeker; he turned and "went away sorrowful, for he was one that had great possessions." In the discourse that followed, the Master, doubtless in a vein of mingled sadness and solemnity, observed, "How hardly shall they that have riches enter into the Kingdom of God!" Peter accepting his Master's words in their most literal sense, in the light of the foregoing incident, spoke out in his impulsive way, "Lord, we have left all and followed Thee. What, then, shall we have?"

Two things in regard to this question have a certain significance for us. The first, Peter's inadequate sense of the extent of the renunciation he had made, and secondly, our Lord's patient and wise reply. Peter evidently considered his renunciation and that of his companions to have been complete. They had abandoned their fishing nets, and to a certain extent their homes. They had done so on the understanding that He who summoned them was the promised Messiah and future King of Israel, and therefore would be able in the future to compensate all who associated themselves with Him to their own loss. We must not suppose that this was the leading motive which attracted Simon and the sons of Zebedee to the new Prophet, but it is very clear that after they had been associated with Jesus for some time ambitious hopes for place and power began to take possession of their hearts. Of this we have already considered an example. Up to the present they had misapprehended the deepest principle of the Master's teaching; they felt that abandonment of their accustomed pursuits and possessions merited a present and material reward not to be long delayed. Hence Peter's question--a question which no doubt related to the expectations of his companions also. The idea of a renunciation of _themselves_, a spiritual renunciation, had not yet become clear to them. From our point of view it is surprising that they should so long have misunderstood.

Had He to whom the inquiry was addressed been as most of us are, Peter would have received another sharp rebuke. How different is Jesus's answer on this occasion from the stern, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" of a little while before! The difference is due to the fact that, in this case, Peter spoke of his own renunciation, while in the former case he had ventured to interfere with his Master's. Jesus therefore replied with a patience and kindness that were possible only to one who saw far beyond the moment. "There is no man," said He, "that hath left house or brethren or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for My sake, and for the Gospel's sake, but he shall receive a hundredfold now in this time, houses and brethren and sisters and mothers and children and lands with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life. But many that are first shall be last, and the last first." Some have objected to the tenor of this reply, arguing that it held out false hopes to those who heard it, and that to promise such a reward was in any case to lower somewhat the ideal of service. When, however, we look forward to the noble fulfilment of the promise we cannot but think the spirit of it altogether worthy of Jesus. It is a continuance of the superhuman insight which had led Him to assert on His first meeting with Simon, "Thou shalt be called _Rock_." If Mark's Gospel is really Peter's memoirs it is probable that the story of this promise was committed to writing long after Peter had begun to recognise its meaning. He who afterwards at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple addressed the cripple who asked for money was a nobler Peter than the one who now sought a similar gift for himself. "Silver and gold have I none, but such as I have give I unto thee. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise up and walk." "_Such as I have!_" Who would not desire to share in a possession so rich? Silver and gold, social and political prominence, had faded into nothingness in the presence of the privilege of speaking "in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth."

A mortal, sin's familiar friend, doth here Avow that he will give all earth's reward, But to believe and humbly teach the faith, In suffering and poverty and shame, Only believing he is not unloved.[1]

[1] R. Browning, Pauline.

VII.

The Scene in the Upper Room.

As our Lord's earthly ministry draws to a close the spiritual history of the first Apostles reaches a crisis. The scene in the Upper Room has for us a special interest in this connection. It is recorded in all the four Gospels in such a manner as to establish its importance and historicity. As usual Peter's own account is the most vivid, but Luke supplies us with a sentence from which we learn more of the state of affairs than is given by the other three. This is exceptional, for Luke, as a rule, idealises the Apostles. He tells us that "there arose also a contention among them which of them is accounted to be greatest." We see then that even into the Upper Room and to the last Supper had penetrated the jealousies, rivalries and ambitions of these few men who were afterwards to become heroes of the Cross. We only associate the upper room with thoughts of peace and sacredness, but here is another side of the matter. It may well be that the little meeting ended in solemnity and quietness, but it can hardly have begun so. The stamp of truth seems to rest on John's account of what took place, simply because it expresses so naturally Jesus's method of dealing with the contention which Luke says was in existence. He rose from the table and performed for His followers the ceremony their jealousy of one another had made them omit. The foot-washing may have had a direct reference to the future practice of mutual service, but it had also an immediate significance. The disciples refused to wash one another's feet, and the Lord and Master of them all undertook the duty Himself. Perhaps the change of feeling induced by this simple and lowly act made possible the beautiful utterances which only John has preserved for us (John xiii.-xvii.).

In the forefront of this discourse, however, Jesus exchanged a few sentences of special emphasis with Peter. "Simon, Simon," He declared, "behold, Satan, asked to have you that he might sift you as wheat; but I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not; and do thou, when once thou hast turned again, stablish thy brethren." This statement of tender solicitude must have been called forth by His knowledge of the contention which had been taking place. Doubtless He was filled with sorrow that Peter had not yet learned the lesson of humility and self-forgetfulness. He foresaw the failure, the cowardice, the denial, but He foresaw, too, the repentance, the restoration, and the greater Peter whose strength should lie in his humility and willingness to be led by the Spirit of God. But at this moment the very last person to see any need of such a change was Peter himself. Jesus went on to describe what in the time immediately following would happen to the little band. "All ye," He said, "shall be offended in Me this night, for it is written, Ye shall smite the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." Peter instantly declared, "Though all shall be offended in Thee I will never be offended." What feelings were contending in his mind at the moment we can only conjecture. Possibly he felt a little sore at the implied rebuke contained in the foot-washing and in the prophecy of the sifting which had followed it. More probably, however, the simple affection which he really had for his Master impelled him to declare his loyalty. "Exceeding vehemently," according to his own account, he persisted, "If I must _die_ with Thee I will not deny Thee." He felt it was possible that Jesus might in the coming danger need to rely upon the services of an active and courageous friend like himself. Doubtless he felt every word he said, but he also felt the importance of the assistance he could render to Jesus. It never occurred to him that Jesus had no need of his assistance. Peter needed a sharp lesson, and ere long he had it. The secret of true service consists in self-emptying. He learned the true spirit of his Master's teaching only after the utter and painful failure of his own self-confident promises. For the present Jesus's only reply was, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou, to-day, even this night, before the cock crow twice shalt deny me thrice."

VIII.

Gethsemane and After.

The testing time was not far distant. Peter, filled with determination to show his loyalty and courage, seems to have carried away from the upper room one of two swords that had lain therein. He believed himself ready for emergencies, but failed at the very outset to give what his Master really needed. Once again we find the story told best by Peter himself. He, James and John were stationed by their Master's desire a little nearer to His person than were the others. Most pathetically Jesus entreated their sympathy. "My soul is exceeding sorrowful even unto death. Abide ye here and watch." This, however, they proved themselves unable to do. Luke says they were "sleeping for sorrow," and most likely this is in a measure true. They could not have been indifferent to their Master's trouble. He had given them sufficient opportunity to observe His state of mind, and doubtless they had done so, and were stirred with affectionate sympathy. Nevertheless this sympathy did not go so far as to enable them to share in His vigil. Probably Peter considered himself as a guard to His person--the intensity of his Master's agony he could not understand. His emphatic promise in the upper room, however, was being badly fulfilled. Even if he were no more than a guard to Christ's person he should have kept awake. In his own account of the scene he places the emphasis on this point: "And He cometh and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter, Simon, sleepest _thou_? Couldest thou not watch _one hour_? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation." The implied reproach here has reference almost certainly to the vehemence of Peter's promise of superior loyalty. "Though all shall be offended yet will not I." Jesus gently reminded him of the promise, and signified that he had begun badly in the way of keeping it. The Master recognised, however, the sincerity and simple affection of the Apostle in His concluding words, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."

Even while Jesus was speaking the surprise came. Judas and the rabble with swords, staves and lanterns burst into the garden. Instantly all was confusion and alarm; only Jesus remained calm and self-possessed. Judas stepped forward and kissed Him; the disciples hurried to His side, Peter drew his sword, and without waiting for explanations struck at the foremost of the advancing band. The act was one of sheer folly; it might have involved himself and his companions in one common ruin. So far from saving Jesus it was Jesus who now saved him. The Master turned hastily round and with quick gesture bade Peter restore the sword to its place, saying, "They that take the sword shall perish with the sword." The statement no doubt had immediate reference to Peter's rashness. Jesus saw that any of His disciples taken with arms in their hands would forfeit their lives. The warning did not need to be repeated; Peter's new-found courage had already deserted him. The assailants seem to have been in similar case. To save His disciples Jesus confronted them, and as He advanced they retreated, stumbling over one another, till, as John relates, they fell to the ground.

"Whom seek ye?" asked the victim of Pharisaic hate. "Jesus of Nazareth," they replied. "I am He," was the rejoinder, and then, with a thoughtfulness and love of which in this dreadful hour Jesus only seems to have been capable, He continued, "If therefore ye seek Me let these go their way." For some moments the officers hesitated; the majesty and dignity of Him whom they had come to seize cast a spell upon them; no one liked to be the first to arrest Him, and Jesus had to declare Himself a second time ere the leaders ventured to execute their commission. The moment this was done, however, "all the disciples left Him. and fled."

So far Peter's self-assertion had ended in failure, but further humiliation was yet to come. He could not bear to remain in ignorance of the fate of a Master whom he really and truly loved; so, checking his flight, when he saw the procession move off he followed it at a safe distance. His friend and partner, John, who appears to have had friends in the house of Caiaphas, obtained admission for him and he waited therein, as Matthew says, "to see the end." All his bravery had now deserted him; he was in a strange city where men of his province were despised and ridiculed. He was only a humble fisherman, and stricken with fear by finding himself in the power of authorities ecclesiastical and secular. Humanly speaking, his next mistake was one that might have been prophesied. He was discovered and questioned; in his bewilderment and terror all the coarseness of his old Galilean life returned upon him, and, forgetful of everything but the desire of saving himself, he denied his Master, with cursing and swearing. Jesus directed upon him a second reproach, this time a mute one. He "turned and looked upon Peter," but that look was enough. It brought him to his senses, laid bare his miserable failure, ingratitude, cowardice and broken promises. He saw how completely he had fallen beneath himself by over-confidence in himself. The Peter of that moment was not the real Peter, after all. He did love his Master, and had run the risk of arrest and death to get near Him again, but his humiliation was complete and his self-abasement intense. "He went out and wept bitterly." Shall we say that the experience of the next few days was the greatest crisis in his career? From this depth of humiliation he rose qualified to become an ambassador and a saviour.

IX.

The Power of the Resurrection.

We know nothing of Peter's history during the anguished hours that intervened between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, but we may believe that his shame and contrition continued until Jesus Himself breathed in his ear words of forgiveness and hope. We may infer indirectly that Peter must have been humbled by the recollection of his own self-confident boasting in the presence of the other apostles, for we find him still in association with them. The little company seems to have held together to mourn their lost Master and to assist each other with a common sympathy. That Peter must have been with them is clear from the fact that he was mentioned by name to the women who visited the tomb on the first day of the week. "Go, tell His disciples _and Peter_, He goeth before you into Galilee." When we consider that Peter still associated with those who had listened to his self-confident assumption of superiority to themselves we can discern something more than remorse in his demeanour. There is evidence of a new humility, and yet at the same time a continuance of tender affection for the Lord whom he fully believed he should never see again.

There is one incident in which Jesus was concerned after the Resurrection of which there is no record--there could be none. It is the first interview between Jesus and Peter after the Resurrection. The disciples in the upper room were informed that the Lord had appeared unto Simon. What took place at that first meeting we can never imagine; it must have been a season of such sacredness and solemnity that Peter would not be likely to say much about it to his brethren. The loving thoughtfulness of Jesus bade Him seek out His humiliated and sorrow-stricken follower that He might assure him of forgiveness and restoration. Very intense and holy must their intercourse have been. From this moment Peter became a great and noble character; his discipline has not been for nothing, his self-seeking is at an end; ambition has no place in his mind for the future; arrogance and self-confidence thenceforth must have given place to a lowliness born of the remembrance of his cowardice and wretched failure. When in after days he wrote for the guidance of the saints he was writing from the depths of his own experience: "Yea, all of you gird yourselves with humility to serve one another, for God resisteth the proud, but giveth grace to the humble" (1 Peter v. 5).

The appearance of genuineness rests upon this New Testament story. In its idyllic simplicity and faithfulness to the facts of human nature it stands in marked contrast to the spurious and unauthorised legends about Jesus and His Apostles with which the sub-apostolic age abounded. The Church has not lost much, in all probability, by the oblivion in which these lesser gospels have been buried. To unearth them now would, no doubt, be of service in throwing light upon critical problems in regard to the existing New Testament texts, but they could add nothing to the sweet and natural accounts of the spiritual history of the men who guided the early Church. We know Peter better from the pages of the four Gospels than we do from legendary accounts. Indirectly this faithfulness of the evangelic records is of great assistance in establishing their historicity. Nothing is concealed, or toned down, that we ought to know, nothing that would tend to represent the Apostles as superhuman or exceptional in their lofty character is thrust upon our notice; we are permitted to see Peter as he really was, a man made noble by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.