Rev. Dr. Joel D. Biermann
Matthew 26:30-35, 69-75
Wednesday March 29, 2017
Words come cheap. It is easy, so easy, to blurt out a promise. But it is harder, so much harder, to keep a promise. The Apostle Peter seemed to have a running struggle with saying things that proved much harder to do. There was that night on the Sea of Galilee: “Lord if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Maybe Peter was a little surprised when Jesus said, “come.” The brash disciple soon realized that doing the deed was much different than suggesting it. And then we have the story from tonight’s Gospel reading—a story that is more widely known and more infamous than the most blatant lie or broken promise of any politician. It’s the night when everything reaches a sudden and feverish pace for Jesus and the Twelve. It’s the night when everything is going to come unwound. It’s the night when Jesus is going to be betrayed by Judas, denied by Peter, and deserted by all the disciples. It’s the night before Jesus dies.
The night had started well. Jesus had gathered his twelve closest followers in the upper room, shared the Passover celebration with them, and then even extended and heightened the celebration by giving them the Lord’s Supper. But, then Jesus took everything in a different direction, and things went downhill. There was that uncomfortable business about a betrayer in their midst, and the abrupt departure of Judas. Then Jesus had solemnly declared that all the eleven were about to do the same—they would all depart, worse, they would all desert their teacher. It was an astounding claim. Peter would have none of it, and he let Jesus know it. Maybe he cast a disparaging glance around as he said it, “Even if everyone else deserts you, I will never forsake you!” Even when Jesus sharpened the warning and told Peter bluntly, “Peter, not only will you desert me, but before the sun is up you will have denied me three times.” We know what Peter thought of that. He promised, with all the sincerity and force that he had; he promised that it would never happen.
Peter was wrong. Jesus’ prediction was dead-on. Of course it was. When the time came for Peter to stand strong and declare his allegiance to his Lord, he first faltered, and then plunged into the denial with all the sincerity and force he could muster: “I swear to you, I promise you, that I do not know that man. I’ve got nothing to do with him!” Peter knew better. He knew form his upbringing in the synagogue that a man’s word was a precious and essential thing. He knew what the law had taught about the importance of keeping your word, and following through on a promise no matter what. Peter knew all of that. But when the moment came, and when he felt the threat of danger and suffering, he folded and collapsed. He forgot his promise. Peter’s sin was catastrophic and devastating. Luther teaches that when Peter three times denied Jesus it was no mere back-sliding, but was the rejection of Christ, and the death of faith. There in the courtyard, with the denial echoing off the hard walls, Peter was lost. He had fallen from grace. He was condemned. In fact, Peter’s sin was every bit as great as that of Judas. Yet, it’s different.
Unlike Judas, Peter turns back toward his Lord, hoping for a miracle—and gets one. Jesus forgives and even restores Peter to his place among the twelve. While Judas warns us not to take for granted our place next to Jesus, Peter teaches a different lesson. He warns us of the problem of broken promises. He warns us about the problem of words quickly and idly spoken that prove difficult and costly to keep. Peter shows us what it looks like to violate a promise. His failure is so enormous and so blatant, that it is tempting and actually easy for us to pass judgment on the spokesman of the Twelve. Considering Peter’s pointed promise, Jesus’ explicit warning, and the relatively mild threat that actually proves to be Peter’s undoing, it seems justified to chide Peter not only for failing to deliver on his promise, but also for the great bravado and boast that had preceded his epic denial by only a dozen hours or so. Peter completely blew it. He failed badly. So, we chide him for his folly, his unguarded words, and his weakness. And we comfort and even congratulate ourselves with the knowledge and assurance that unlike Peter none of us has ever been so rash as to make a bold promise to Jesus that we could not keep. Unlike Peter, we haven’t failed so miserably to keep our word or to follow through on a commitment we’ve made to our Lord. Unlike Peter, none of us have been too quick to make promises that would later prove difficult and costly to keep. It’s comforting to know that we aren’t Peter. But, of course, we are, aren’t we?
It’s been a while for most of you. Maybe you’ve forgotten the promise you made when you became part of this congregation. Maybe you don’t recall exactly the commitment you made and the promise you declared when you were joined to the church of Christ. You made rather an audacious and bold proclamation to God:
“Do you intend to live according to the Word of God and in faith, word, and deed to remain true to God, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, even to death?
“I do, by the grace of God.”
“Do you intend to continue steadfast in this confession and Church and to suffer all, even death, rather than fall away from it?”
“I do, by the grace of God.”
It doesn’t matter what the exact wording was when you made the Confirmation promise. It doesn’t even matter where you were standing or whether you followed a formal rite. At some point, you stood before God and his Church, and you made known that you believed in Jesus Christ, and that you would live like it. You promised to follow Christ all the way even to death. “Even if I have to die, I will not deny!” It was Peter’s promise. It is your promise. How have you done with that promise?
You’ve never denied your Lord, have you? I mean, you haven’t sworn to a group of people that you don’t know Jesus. You haven’t done that. But, have you ever missed a chance to witness with bold confidence to the truth of God and his Word? Have you ever been part of a conversation when you knew that you needed to make your faith clear and speak up for God’s reality, but somehow you just couldn’t find the words, and so remained silent? Have you ever let someone think that perhaps you didn’t really believe all that stuff in the Bible about sin and morality and about Jesus being the only way to God? Have you ever seen someone in need and pretended not to notice so that your schedule would not be messed up? Have you ever let other things get in the way of doing what you know God wanted you to do with your time? Have you slept through an alarm and missed your time to gather with other believers to hear God’s Word? Have you let your desires determine how you spend your money instead of letting God’s will direct you? Have you let the way you choose your entertainment and activities be guided more by the world’s trendsetters than by Christ? Have you functioned in your marriage and in your home the way that God calls you to function, or the way that everyone else you know functions? You promised to follow Christ always. Have you kept that promise?
Of course, there are so many other promises that you have made. Promises to parents and teachers, promises to friends and employers, promises, to spouses and children: you have made so many promises. Have you kept them? Have you done what you said you would do? The fact is that we are not very good at keeping promises. Regardless our good intentions or zealous motivations, we often find it hard to keep our word. The Psalmist knew that promises matter: “Blessed is the man who keeps his promise, even when it hurts.” But, that’s hard. When it hurts, we quit. When keeping your word is tough, it’s so easy to change your mind or explain the promise away. When it’s inconvenient, we’d just as soon bail out on the promise keeping. Who can do it, anyway? Who can keep his word even when it hurts? Our political leaders seem incapable of it. The Israelites couldn’t do it. They promised to uphold the covenant. They failed miserably. Peter couldn’t keep his word. He promised everything, but when it started to hurt, he gave up and denied Jesus. You can’t do any better. We don’t keep our promises. We can’t. But, God can. God did. God does. God keeps every promise, even when it hurts…and it did hurt.
To keep his promise, God followed a course that brought more pain and sorrow than any of us could ever fathom. To keep his word, Jesus Christ, God the Son, the Second Person of the Eternal Trinity, had to walk through the valley of the shadow of death. More than that, he had to taste death. More than that, he had to be condemned to the curse and damnation of God the Father himself. He had to endure the punishment for the sins of the world. He had to take the curse for every failed promise. He had to pay the price for every broken word. When it hurt, and hurt infinitely, he did not go back on his word. He did what needed to be done. He kept his promise. He redeemed us. He redeemed you. So, every failed promise is forgiven. Every feeble word is erased. Every fearful action is wiped out. Every stumble in discipleship and every epic collapse is removed. You have been joined to Christ. His promise keeping is now credited to you, and his strength and grace are now credited to you. In Christ, you are forgiven for your failure, and given the strength to keep your promises—even when it hurts. You walk with Jesus, now. You walk in truth. You walk in integrity. You keep your word, even when it hurts, because you know that the hurt is only for a while. Jesus already dealt with the eternal hurt of hell by keeping his word to the letter. He always does. He always keeps every promise. He kept his promise when he came in Bethlehem. He kept his promise when he did his Father’s will. He kept his promise when he died. He kept his promise when he rose. And, he will keep his promise yet again when he returns fully to establish his eternal kingdom. It’s a sure thing. You have his word on it. Amen.