2/18/51

Scripture: Matthew 4: 17-22; 16: 13-18.

Last week, we considered together a “rank-and-file” Christian as exemplified [illustrated] in the life of the apostle Andrew. Much of the thought in that sermon was drawn from a book of the late Peter Marshall, sometime chaplain of the US Senate, entitled Mr. Jones, Meet the Master. I shall draw further from the same source today in discussing Simon Peter as a fisherman and a rock (and some more besides!)

If you were on the Pulpit Supply Committee of a church that was looking for a new minister, I wonder what you would think of Simon as a possible candidate. What did our Lord see in him to make him a first disciple? Here comes Simon Peter up from the beach. He and his brother have just drawn up their fishing boat on the shore. They have spread their nets out to dry in the sun, and will later patch the holes. They have unloaded their catch with strong callused hands. Simon smells of fish!

He is not a young man but has entered middle age. His hair has thinned to a graying fringe. He appears uncouth, impulsive, blundering, blustering --- not the refined or cultured type of person. Probably he is uneducated, or has had only the most meager training under any rabbi. Certainly he is a far cry from the learned scribe, or pharisee, or priest. Why the man has no training for the ministry! And his age is against him. He’s a bit set in his ways, no longer young enough to learn what he must master in order to become a good preacher and an understanding pastor. He is probably stubborn. He is a rough man, used to rough living. When angered he can burst into profanity, caustic in tone, and lurid in vocabulary. Should he be called to preach the gospel in your church? Perhaps it would be better for him to stick to his fish nets, while we look for a man with more reassuring qualifications.

Of course, he might be interesting to know as a fisherman. Perhaps we shall see him again. Indeed we shall if we read in the New Testament of Jesus’ choice of disciples, and of their learning under him and their later accomplishments. For Simon Peter was called early by our Lord, and eventually became the most eloquent and persuasive preacher of the group.

He and Andrew, his brother, had been bending over their fish nets on the shore of the Galilean seas when this other Galilean, from the town of Nazareth, passed by and changed their whole lives. For the Nazarene called them both to follow him into an entirely new kind of living. “Come with me,” he said, “and I will make you fishers of men.”

And so, for three years, Simon probably never touched his nets again. The life he led during those years with Jesus was still pastoral --- out of doors --- mostly country life with occasional visits to the larger cities. Much of the Lord’s teaching was done with small groups of people, and occasionally larger crowds of people, on some hillside, by a lake shore, or in the fields as they walked along. They were more familiar with the groves, orchards and vineyards, the sheep and the chickens, the cottages and the villagers and the neighborhood synagogues, than with city pavements, mansions, scholarly people and magnificent man-built temples. Three years later, during the most awful testing of his life, it was a country symbol, the crowing of a cock, that vividly reminded the big fisherman of his primary loyalties.

A cock in a city can be a nuisance. His exuberant crowing begins at an hour in the morning when few city dwellers are willing to be disturbed. Let someone even try to keep in his yard and fatten a rooster for a Sunday dinner a couple of weeks hence, and he is apt to become progressively unpopular with his neighbors. For a cock not only announces the dawn in strident voice -- he fairly anticipates it! I recall the story of a rooster that lived on the bend of a railroad track where at least three trains sped by every night of the year. The “king of the roost,” in his eagerness to crow at the crack of dawn, was invariably on the job every time a locomotive headlight illuminated the chicken coop. After weeks of this, the owner of the flock decided that he had to have some uninterrupted sleep. It was bad enough to have the train rumble by a few rods away without having to hear that shrill crowing. And so the cock that couldn’t tell the difference between and electric headlight and the dawn literally lost his head and landed in the stew pot.

And yet the early morning crowing of a cock is the music of rich reminder to city people who grew up on a farm. Many a youth enticed away by the excitement of the city and the lures of its obvious temptations, could be healed of his spiritual disease, and returned to the simpler purity of his childhood by such a familiar reminder as the crowing of a cock.

Something of the sort happened once to Simon Peter. Evil from the city had engulfed his life after three years of inspiring fellowship with the Master of the new way. Hateful, selfish and powerful people from the city had sent out by night and taken his Lord and teacher. His first impulse had been to fight with all his physical strength, but the Master had restrained him with a word. Then the flickering torches of the arresting party disappeared around the winding path that led downhill away from the garden. And the murmur of voices was lost in the distance. There swept over the big disciple the realization that his Master was indeed captured by his mortal enemies and was being marched away to die.

An icy fear gripped his heart. He had blundered -- that he knew -- and had been rebuked. He was puzzled and disappointed at the calm submission with which the Lord had permitted them to bind him and take him off like some animal to the slaughter. Unable to stand alone any longer in the deserted garden, Peter started down the path himself heedless of the twigs and pebbles that crunched and cracked under his feet, or the branches that roughly brushed his face. Without getting too close to the others, he reached the fort of the Mount of Olives, followed them across the brook Kedron, and up the opposite hill into Jerusalem, asleep and quiet in the night.

The procession headed first to the house of the high priest where the scribes and the elders were already assembled. Escorting Jesus, they shut the door, but not before Peter was able to squeeze past into the outer court. The girl at the door scrutinized each one and when she saw Peter, she said to him, “Art not thou also one of this man’s disciples?” And he said: “I am not.”

Who knows why she asked. Maybe she was a kind of sentry, though one would suppose a soldier would have been posted there if that were the purpose. Perhaps she had seen the Master as they led him in and sensed the great attraction of the Galilean. Jesus may even have looked at her as he had looked in blessing on so many others. She may have questioned Peter in a sort of accusation. Or she may have wished she could ask Peter more about his Master. Who knows?

But whatever her motive in asking, “Art not thou one of this man’s disciples?” his abrupt denial was: “I am not.” What shocking things happen to our perception of the truth when we become suddenly fearful! Surely Simon could not have forgotten how the Master’s shadow had first fallen across him as he and Andrew worked over their nets; how Jesus had had beckoned, and his eyes and voice said: “Follow me and I will make you fishers of men.”

Could Simon Peter have forgotten the night when Nicodemus, with his face almost concealed, came into the garden looking for the Master, and there talked for hours about the promises? Had Peter forgotten the happy wedding they all attended in Cana?

Now they brought Jesus to Caiphas, and the guards and soldiers mingled with the servants and others around a little fire they had built to warm themselves in the courtyard while Jesus was questioned. Peter was glad to join the huddle around the fire. The early morning air had become so chilly that he shivered, and the blaze felt good.

Coarse laughter greeted the joking and the discussion of things the people talked about. Peter paid little attention until a soldier nudged him and said, “Thou art also one of them.” A second time, Peter said: “I am not.”

Where was Peter’s brave heart? A heart that would have called down fire and brimstone? a heart that would have wielded a sword? a heart that could weather out the most terrifying storm of the Galilean lake? A heart that later could jump right into the water when he saw the Master coming? [John 21: 3-7]. For the next hour, they waited -- the trial seemed so long -- one and then another ruler to be consulted. Tempers became short; men were sleepless and irritated.

A soldier came out of the palace. He joined the circle, and greeted his friends. His eye fell on Peter, scrutinizing him carefully. “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Another said, “Certainly, he is one of the Galileans. Listen to his accent; that gives him away.” Then Peter began to curse and swear: “I know not the man.” Vile language he’d not used for years. Even the toughened soldiers were amazed.

There was shuffling of feet as Jesus was led from Caiphas the priest over to Pilate the governor. They were tired and made nothing of Peter’s vehemence -- his angry, fearful, distorted face. In the silence, a cock could be heard crowing in the distance. It was like a bugle to Peter. Earlier in the night, Jesus had said to him: “Before the cock crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice.” What had he done! [Mark 14: 66-72].

There was a stirring in the area that led to Pilate’s palace -- Peter saw them -- the captors and the Master. And the Lord looked at him. The Lord had heard that profane denial, every blustering word of it! All the fisherman’s oaths! His eyes for a moment pierced Peter’s soul.

All else blurred before Peter’s eyes as he went out, his eyes brimming and overflowing like the grief of his soul --- weeping bitterly. The Simon in him died then and there. His heart was broken. His arrogant bravado and cocksure kind of confidence ended. The Peter (the rock) in him was being born anew. Nothing was heard of him for two days. And Christ was crucified that Friday.

But something the now-crucified Lord had said went with Peter. “Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have thee that he may sift you as wheat.” --- and it had come true. And the Lord had said further: “But I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.” Could that prayer be answered now?

The Master had said further: “And when thou art converted” (turned around -- when you’ve got new bearings) “Strengthen thy brethren.” What did he mean?

Black Saturday passed. New Day dawned -- a new week -- a new age. (The disciples still didn’t know it). The strange and breathless story. “He is not dead. He lives.” “I go before you into Galilee.” Later, after they had gone back to fishing for a while they found again the Lord. I do not know how they perceived or recognized him. But tenderness and understanding were his gift to Peter.

For each denial (three) a pledge of Love:

“Simon, son of Jonas, love thou me?” “Yea, Lord.”

“Feed my lambs.”

“Simon, son of Jonas, love thou me?” “Yea, Lord.”

“Feed my sheep.”

“Simon, son of Jonas, love thou me?” “Yea, Lord.”

“Feed my sheep.” [John 21: 15-17].

The same Jesus who called him and made him a rock, calls each person in this room --- you and me. He changed Peter’s life. He can change yours and mine. If we are willing!

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Delivered in Wisconsin Rapids, February 18, 1951.

Also at Waioli Church, March 14, 1976.