Betrayal

Gerard Seghers, The Denial of St. Peter, circa 1620-1625. Oil on canvas, North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh. Click on the image to link to the source.

John 13:31-38, John 18:1, 3, 12, 15-18a, 25-27

While reading through the traditional texts for Holy Week, I found myself focusing on the words “deny” and “denial.” In context, it’s such a stinging accusation when Jesus tells Peter that before the cock crows, he will deny his Lord three times. In the aftermath, Peter obviously is ashamed that during threatening circumstances, he did, in fact, deny Jesus.

I went through my Greek resources looking for a little more insight into why this “denial” was so bad. A handful of translations leave out the pronoun “it,” which doesn’t appear in the Greek text: “Again, Peter denied.” Heinrich Schlier, in the massive Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, points out that Peter is not simply denying a statement of fact, but, in a deeper sense, is betraying his relationship with Jesus. Peter is being unfaithful to the one to whom he owes his first loyalty. “Being ashamed of the Lord in this way,” writes Schlier, “and seeking honor from the world rather than from Him, we bring the Lord Himself into contempt.”[1] Personally, I think a paraphrase would better communicate the weight of this moment: “Again, Peter betrayed.”

In our time and place, how might I be denying or betraying Jesus?

If you follow social media, then perhaps you’ve read the activists who tell us that we are betraying the truth when we don’t admit where our new administration is headed. We’re told that if we don’t protest and resist in particularly strong ways, then by April 20, our country will be under martial law and subject to the whims of an authoritarian government.

One of my younger clergy colleagues, herself the daughter of a prominent Presbyterian pastor, writes with some urgency: “Let me say this more clearly. Nothing will change unless you give … time, money, or resources. …. Have you spoken publicly? (clergy colleagues) …. Business as usual won’t move the needle.”

Perhaps like Peter, perhaps like the average pastor, you’ve worked all week, it’s nighttime before your day off. Now there’s another serious crisis on the horizon. You’d like nothing better than to drift off to sleep, but this new threat jars you awake, and asks you to put on public display your most eloquent and energetic defense of what you believe to be faithful, just, and true. I can appreciate Peter’s desire for an anonymous pause and the similar desire many of us feel. I look with sympathy on Peter, as he warmed himself by a fire late at night on the first Maundy Thursday.

If you’ve studied the Gospel of John, then you know it records rich details of that particular day. The record extends from chapter 13, from which our first scripture reading was drawn, through chapter 18, verse 27.  In this section, Jesus completes a long parting discourse, a farewell soliloquy, offering a prayer for his disciples, immediately after which he is betrayed by Judas.

Peter had sworn steadfast allegiance, even courageously raised a sword to defend Jesus. But as rapidly changing events carry Peter from place to place and deep into a sleepless evening, he loses his nerve. He denies following Jesus not once, not twice, but three times. In our Lenten study of Rabbi Heschel, you may remember how he said, “Some are guilty, but all are responsible.” Peter isn’t guilty, like Judas, of a pre-meditated betrayal. But in some sense his denial implicates him, too, with responsibility for Jesus’ fate.

Peter’s Maundy Thursday journey poses a challenge for today’s Jesus followers: When does our desire to be removed from controversy amount to a traitorous surrender to the power of evil?

Julian DeShazier is a pastor in northern Illinois who challenges his listeners to think deeply about such questions. In a Christian Century article I’ve kept on file, he writes, “There are many reasons to deny Jesus, and we all have one. We’ve all taken our turn …. when we sit at tables or on the internet, sometimes among family and friends, and hear excruciatingly ignorant conversation – and say nothing in response. Maybe we don’t want to start a debate – who has the energy for another argument. Maybe we don’t want to risk a friendship by sharing our story. Maybe we want to increase our chances of success …. Or maybe we just don’t think it’s relevant: our faith life and our public life are separate silos that feed us and never intertwine. When the opportunity comes (to affirm Jesus) we say, ‘I’ll pass.’”[2]

On the other hand, says DeShazier, “being labeled as ‘one of them’ brings with it an opportunity to unpack people’s pretentions and suspicions about faith. A respectful conversation with you might mean someone now knows a person who fears God but doesn’t match their assumptions. Too many thoughtful believers are … denying opportunities …. For some (unfortunately) it’s a mark of … progressive faith – that we can blend in and cause no trouble.”[3]

Our Maundy Thursday worship calls us to remember Jesus’ betrayal.  May it challenge us to recognize also our particular acts of betraying Jesus, the role we may unwittingly play in allowing suffering by not speaking up. How may we be denying Him? How do we affirm and follow him more fully?

I close with a word of good news, as summarized by Paul in his final letter to his disciple Timothy. Even “if we are faithless, he remains faithful—
for he cannot deny himself.”[4]  Thanks be to God!

NOTES

[1] Heinrich Schlier, “apneomai,” entry in Theological Dictionary of the New Testament, ed, G. Kittel, trans. Geoffrey Bromiley, Grand Rapids: Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1964, Vol. 1, p. 470.

[2] Julian DeShazier, “Reflections on the lectionary: March 25, Good Friday, John 18:1-19:42,” Christian Century, 16 March 2016, p. 21.

[3] DeShazier, p. 21.

[4] 2 Timothy 2:13, NRSV.

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