Are You Showing Up?

Suggested Reading: Matthew 26:31-56

I've recently decided that the Apostle Peter has gotten a bad rap. Yes, Peter was a loudmouth and sometimes started talking before his brain or filter kicked in. Yes, Peter was brash and impulsive, chopping off ears that Jesus had to reattach. Yes, Peter denied that he even knew Jesus, going so far as to swear at one point. And even later, yes, Peter acted like something of a hypocrite when, after being the one who announced that even the Gentiles could be saved, he withdrew from them to stay in favor with the legalistic Jewish Christians and had to be called out by Paul. But I've decided Peter has gotten a bad rap, especially about denying Jesus.

In Matthew 26, when Jesus warned Peter that he would deny him, Peter said to him, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” And all the disciples said the same (Matthew 26:35, ESV). Notice that Peter wasn't the only one to proclaim loudly that he would die with Jesus before denying him. All the disciples said the same. But when Judas came with the temple guards and Jesus was arrested, all the disciples fled. And when the story picks up again, Peter and John are the only ones who've come back. John was allowed into the place where Jesus was being tried because the priests recognized him but Peter watched from a distance. None of the other disciples even showed up at the trial. Peter denied Jesus. But Peter was the only disciple who put himself somewhere it might have happened. The priests already recognized John and the other disciples fled and stayed away. Peter was the only disciple who ended up in a position where he could either take a stand for Jesus or deny him. He failed the test but he at least showed up.

Sometimes I wonder how much showing up we do. We hang out in our Christian groups, run in our Christian circles, shop in Christian bookstores and patronize shops with Christian fish on their signs. If we can afford to, we put our kids in Christian private schools or home school them. When we are really adventurous, we invite unbelievers to come to church with us, bringing them into our safe place in order to share the Gospel with them. What would happen if we instead started going out, putting ourselves in uncomfortable places where people might look at us funny and say, "Are you with that Jesus fellow?" How many of us would chicken out? How many of us would find an excuse not to say anything or to make a quick exit?

Peter showed up and failed. But when the day of Pentecost came and the Holy Spirit empowered the disciples to preach the Gospel in the languages of the world, it wasn't those disciples who didn't deny Jesus who got to stand up and lead five thousand men to faith in Christ. That privilege went to the guy who had failed but who had actually shown up, to the guy who had been tested in the fires of failure and knew how much he needed to brace himself against his own fear.

Failure for Christ is not final. For he knows our frame; he remembers that we are dust (Psalm 103:14, ESV). But we do have to show up. We have to put ourselves in a position where success or failure are even options. Otherwise, not denying Christ doesn't mean we're faithful, just that we haven't even tried.

When Moses Killed a Resurrected Fly

Suggested Reading: Exodus 18:9-26 (or read the whole story here)

When I was in college, I was part of a drama ministry group that did a skit called "The Fly Skit." It started off with a guy on stage who is minding his own business, reading a magazine, when a fly starts buzzing around and annoying him. After swatting the fly away several times, he reaches out in anger and catches the fly in his hand. Amazed by his luck, he shakes his hand and can hear the fly buzzing inside. Quickly, he is joined on stage by another person who suggests they play catch with the fly. They proceed to throw the fly back and forth between each other, accompanied with the appropriate buzzing as the fly travels from one person's hand to the other's until, finally, having been thrown around so much, the fly ends up on the ground, seemingly dead. In desperation, the two begin applying CPR to the dead fly and manage to bring him back to life. They begin jumping around and celebrating and then, these two people who have been so good with the fly that they could toss it back and forth, catching it without any difficulty at all, high five each other. As their hands meet, the buzzing of the newly resurrected fly abruptly stops. These expert fly handlers accidentally kill their beloved fly. (Add the tagline, "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away," and you have yourself a nice ice-breaker skit for Christian venues.)

In Exodus 18, we have an interesting account where Moses' father-in-law, Jethro travels into the wilderness to visit Moses and bring Moses' wife and children to him. When Jethro arrives, he hears all about the incredible miracles God has done through Moses. He hears about the plagues and the parting of the Red Sea and the destruction of Pharaoh's army at God's hands, all through Moses. Jethro is duly impressed by all of this news and  praises God for all that has occurred. But the next day, Moses sits down to judge the people, who have formed a line so long that many of them wait from morning until evening to have their cases heard. Suddenly, Jethro, this man who was so impressed with all of the things Moses had done in freeing the Israelites from their slavery in Egypt, becomes critical of Moses and says. "What you are doing is not good. You will certainly wear out both yourself and these people who are with you, because this task is too heavy for you. You can't do it alone" (Exodus 18:17-18, HCSB). Jethro then suggests a plan that will help Moses accomplish the task without wearing out both himself and the people.

Sometimes, when we are flush with the success of some major venture, we can easily begin to think that we have it all together, or that we are successful at other unrelated things as well. Having led a successful business, we think we are experts on management. Having succeeded in an acting career, we think we are experts at politics. Having successfully started a camp fire we begin thinking we know everything about pyrotechnics. And inevitably, reality hits us in the face in a way that reminds us that being successful in one or more areas doesn't mean we know everything. For Moses, that day was the day his father-in-law came to visit and saw him judging the people's cases in a very counterproductive way and called him out.

In that moment, when someone calls us on our bad strategy, our hubris, or simply the overestimation of our own skills, we have a choice to make. We can, like some people, insist that we know what we are doing and continue to bluff our way through until we end up in total failure; we can realize the truth of the warning but refuse to change because our pride refuses to let us back down; or we can choose to accept good council and change our approach like Moses, who "listened to his father-in-law and did everything he said" (Exodus 18:24, HCSB). We have the ability to recognize that good advice can come from unexpected places and that we are never so big and knowledgeable that we will never make mistakes.

When you accidentally kill the fly you have just resurrected, when your moment of success is quickly followed by a false-step, how will you react? Will your pride keep you from changing course? Will you decide that you don't have to listen to someone who doesn't have as much experience as you? Or will you demonstrate wisdom by following the sensible course, no matter who happens to present it? The fact that you've succeeded doesn't mean you can't also fail.