Go Tell Peter

What I’m about to write strikes so close to the heart that I can hardly begin.

The same Jesus who waited for me for thirty years.
The same Jesus who withstood the most vile abuse that I could dish out.
The same Jesus who opened the door to me and said, “Come home.”
This same Jesus said, "Go tell Peter. Let him know that I want him to be there.”

Peter, a man who carried a sword and was known to draw it on occassion, in a knee jerk reaction to fight the Romans was actually rebuked by Jesus. Peter’s victim was then healed by Jesus - Jesus - the One that Peter thought he was protecting.

And then in the face of a crucifixion, a confused Peter denied even knowing Jesus at all. The rest had all scattered of course. Who knows to where? Peter was simply the last to run. Hiding here. Skirting down darkened allies there. Somehow, all but Thomas had gathered again in the last place they’d been together with Jesus, the upper room. Was it prearranged? Who knows?

It must have been terribly difficult. Failures to a man. Each in his own way a coward. And Peter. He had only done what most every one of us would have done yet - betrayal is betrayal.

His, the worst kind of betrayal - that of a friend.

And what does Jesus do? He makes extra sure that the message gets to Peter. “Go tell Peter to meet Me,” Jesus says this to the women who’d come to the tomb on the morning of Jesus' resurrection. “Make sure to tell Peter that he's not excluded. Make sure to tell Peter that I want him to be part of My group. I don’t care that he turned tail and ran. I want him back.”

O God! How much love can You pour out on us? How much forgiveness can You grant us?