Jesus – Page 6 – Alaska Bible Teacher

The Forbidden First Stone

“They kept demanding an answer, so he stood up again and said, “All right, but let the one who has never sinned throw the first stone!”

(John 8:7, NLT)

“None knows the weight of another’s burden.”

-George Herbert

As believers, we must discern motives and false doctrine. We’re to be constantly aware of people and issues that swirl around us–of this, there is no doubt, we mustn’t be ignorant. This is a healthy “discernment.” But we must learn that having discernment isn’t a way that passes out a ‘guilty’ penalty. We are ‘seeing’ things these things–not to pass judgment, but that we might pray clearly and earnestly, and grow into His love for the weak.

But to pass out a guilty sentence is God’s exclusive jurisdiction.

It’s far beyond our ‘pay grade.’ He is the final judge in everything. He judges justly and lovingly. He alone knows and understands everything very clearly. We don’t.

And yet how foolish we are. Do we really have the ability to pronounce a penalty to someone else? Could it be when we decide to throw rocks at certain people we’re in terrible danger of forfeiting our own salvation? “But if you do not forgive others their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.” (Matt. 6:15.)

We discern, not to pass judgment, but to pray more clearly and effectively. What you see or sense is for the prayer closet, not before a judge’s bench.

(If you have a ‘rock’ in your hand, you are in definite danger.)

“Don’t judge others, or you will be judged. ²You will be judged in the same way that you judge others, and the amount you give to others will be given to you.

We really don’t have a problem with worldly people. We understand that they are lost in their sins, terribly wrapped up in their own personal darkness, and that should definitely disturb us. We must point to the Blood of Christ that forgives us. We share the good news of true repentance and faith. His Spirit teaches us to be witnesses of His love to everyone we meet.

But in light of this, isn’t strange that almost all of our judgment is somehow directed at other believers! Why?! For some strange reason, it ‘seems,’ we think that we must pronounce guilt and (by doing so) we declare our own “holy” attitude to our place in the Body. In a weird sense, we think we have the supreme calling to condemn someone else’ walk, and by doing so exalt our own!

“The life of faith is a struggle enough in a broken world without us complicating it for other believers.”

–Jake Colsen

It just may come as a shock to some, but it’s extremely difficult to throw stones at someone when we are busy “washing” their feet.

“The nature and end of judgment or sentence must be corrective, never vindictive; it is always for healing, and never for destruction.”

–John Owen

Perhaps when we judge others, we reveal that we don’t understand what ‘real’ discipleship with Jesus is? Somehow it seems, we really aren’t quite grasping the immensity of His grace on guilty people? Do we really understand His profound love for the fallen? “God so loved the World…” Have we had any idea how patient He is with us? Do we doubt His ability to correct others? (These are awfully hard questions.)

“Judge not lest you be judged.” (Jesus’ words really do scare me sometimes.)

Certainly, I intend to confront the darkness. “You are the light, a city set on a hill!” I am His salt and light and I do shine into this dark night. But that is His doing, not mine. I do not generate light on my own. The Bible declares me as ‘self-righteous’ when I try. I am a broken person, who is just starting to understand the scope of my own brokenness and weaknesses. I’m starting to realize I’m not in a position to judge someone else. I’m not quite healed myself yet and I must not think I can point to someone else as being worse than me.

Quite simply, I can’t throw ‘rocks’ at other believers anymore.

I can no longer pass out any condemnation from my own limited understanding. My chief concern right now is to be a humble, earnest Christian who is always ready to forgive those who, in their awful sin and confusion, are hurting others. I’m beginning to see that my calling is to be; a simple servant to my brothers and sisters, nothing more, and nothing less.

Serving God at Night

A song for going up to worship.

“Behold, bless ye the Lord, all ye servants of the Lord, who by night stand in the house of the Lord.

²Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless the Lord!

³The Lord who made heaven and earth bless thee out of Zion!”

Psalm 134

This remarkable Psalm is part of an elite group known as “the Psalms of Ascent.” There are 15 Psalms (120-134) sung as the congregation of Israel went up the steps of the temple in Jerusalem. They would sing each in “rounds” with each other.

As you can well imagine, this made the ascent slow, but meaningful. As you read the three verses of 134, I get a picture of worshipers turning back and blessing the Levites. This takes place at the very end of the day. The Levites, and other godly ones who lived in the Temple, (remember Anna and Simeon, in Luke 2?)

They were the support staff for the priests.

I have some general thoughts about this Psalm:

V.1, “Behold, bless ye the Lord, all ye servants of the Lord, who by night stand in the house of the Lord.”

”The first significant thought is “Lord” mentioned three times. The word is the recognition of someone’s status and standing. We call Him Lord, because He is that (and more). The second has to deal with the Levitical “night shift.”

They served and guarded the Temple during the wee hours of the night.

They probably cleaned, stacked wood, sharpened knives and maintained the Holy Place with its needs. There was no real glory working the night shift. There were no people to serve. The crowds were for the day shift. (Here’s a weird thought– think “Disneyland at 2:00 a.m.”) There was also a contingent of non-Levite people ministering to the Lord as well. They had no duties, and only the priests could serve through their work.

The Levites working at night were not ‘second best.’ At least, not in the eyes of the Holy Spirit. They were integral in both presence and service to the Lord. To despise them is to reveal one’s ignorance. They definitely mattered.

V. 2 “Lift up your hands in the sanctuary, and bless the Lord!“

I’ve worked nights before. It’s a real adjustment. You never feel like you’ve had enough sleep, and it is really hard to be positive and cheerful. I could get pretty grouchy at times. But an exhortation is given, a shout and a blessing as the crowds leave. “Raise up your hands– and praise Him!” It is as the work, although necessary, would be secondary. The worship however, was primary. We need to hear that.

Each of these three verses of this Psalm contain the word “blessing!”

V. 3, “The Lord who made heaven and earth bless thee out of Zion!”

To be blessed (literally, made “lucky”) by our Creator and Lord is pretty profound. As a kid who read a lot, I think of ‘fairy dust.’ I know better now, but to be blessed by God is deeply significant. To summarize, I believe this Psalm is speaking of those in the church who are doing “hidden service.” No one sees them really.

They go about there duties quietly, and purposefully. The only recognition is from God– who sees all. I must encourage you to keep on. There are many more than you think who see your hidden ministry to the Father. You are His ‘night shift.’ You’re seen by few, but Him. He knows what you do.

“There are many of us that are willing to do great things for the Lord, but few of us are willing to do little things.”

D.L. Moody

Hagah, To Meditate

“But his delight is in the law of the Lord,
and on his law he meditates day and night.”

Psalm 1:2

Meditation has gotten a bad rap among some Christians, largely due to a connection with Eastern mysticism. This is really unfortunate for it has a critical place in the development of your discipleship. I believe it’s vital (and maybe even mandatory?)

Hagah is the Hebrew word for ‘meditation’ and it fascinates me.

It literally means to “moan, growl, utter, muse, or mutter.” Some have suggested that it contains the idea of ‘rumination,’ like a cow who chews a cud. The grass goes in, and it’s regurgitated several times, extracting every bit of nutrients and vitamins.

Hagah, or to meditate is the way we assimilate God’s Word into our lives. It’s critical that we do this in our walk as disciples that belong to Jesus.

“This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate [hagah] on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.”

Joshua 1:8, ESV

It’s an interesting command isn’t it? Joshua’s ministry is to lead God’s people and requires his deep connection to God’s promises. He needs to hagah God’s words, to purposefully think about them over and over and over.

It’s interesting to me that when Joshua meditates and carefully responds to the Word then he will receive success in his life and ministry. The word ‘success’ means “wisdom, comprehension, insight with prosperity.” I need that desperately.

And if Joshua needed to do this, might not we?

Start small and simple. There are over 8,000 promises in the Bible–pick one and ruminate on it. Hagah on the Word and try to extract the spiritual nutrients that it contains. You will grow, bless others, and walk in victory, defeating your enemy.

“The amount of time we spend with Jesus – meditating on His Word and His majesty, seeking His face – establishes our fruitfulness in the kingdom.”

Charles Stanley

Doubting Thomas Speaks Up

John 20:25-29

But Thomas, sometimes called the Twin, one of the Twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples told him, “We saw the Master.”

But he said, “Unless I see the nail holes in his hands, put my finger in the nail holes, and stick my hand in his side, I won’t believe it.”

Eight days later, his disciples were again in the room. This time Thomas was with them. Jesus came through the locked doors, stood among them, and said, “Peace to you.”

Then he focused his attention on Thomas. “Take your finger and examine my hands. Take your hand and stick it in my side. Don’t be unbelieving. Believe.”

Thomas said, “My Master! My God!”

Jesus said, “So, you believe because you’ve seen with your own eyes. Even better blessings are in store for those who believe without seeing.”

The others had told me that they had seen Jesus. But this couldn’t be. Either they imagined it or they saw His ghost. I saw him brutalized, crucified, and buried, and I knew He was really dead. I was never into pretending, or wish fulfillment. No, not me. When you’re dead, you’re dead. (At least that’s what I thought.)

I told the others that I would only believe them if I could see and feel the scars–the nail holes and the hole in his side. I needed proof, something tangible or solid before I could believe their stories. Part of me hoped it was so, but I honestly couldn’t join the others in their excitement.

Some would call me a doubter–a skeptic. But that isn’t quite true.

A realist is how I would describe myself. To go along with the others wasn’t going to cut it. They said that they had seen Him and He was very much alive, that somehow, someway He was now resurrected. But for me, I couldn’t believe it. I myself must know it for myself.

Was Jesus alive after all they had done to Him?

We had all gathered in a large room. We had locked the door–we were afraid that the authorities would come for us next. In spite of the confinement, we had some good fellowship that Sunday morning, catching up and sharing stories of the last three years, thinking about all the things Jesus had taught and done.

And then, suddenly, Jesus showed up! Trust me on this if you can–the door was locked, and there was no other way to get in. When Jesus “dropped in” we were completely amazed. He was very much alive–and how can this be? We were all in shock as He stood right in front of us!

Immediately Jesus looked at me, and I looked back–it was really Him!!

Jesus immediately focused on me, He asked me to come close; He wanted me to touch Him, to inspect and see for myself that He was as real as you or I. He asked me to come and see the nail prints in His hands, and stick my hand in the hole where the Roman soldiers had thrust a spear into His side.

And I was completely undone.

It was really Him, and I couldn’t explain it away. Jesus was real flesh and blood! In a second I went from doubt to faith. How He knew that I had voiced my hesitation out loud I didn’t know. But I now knew for certain Jesus was very much alive. Death was now dead.

“My Master! My God!” (That was all I could say.)

At that moment I became a “believing believer.” It wasn’t second-hand anymore; I wept and laughed at the same time! I couldn’t explain it, I must believe it. Jesus had overcome death and He was now commanding me to believe.

Immediately I knew, I saw Him for myself.

Looking back I admit my foolishness and doubt; Jesus had sought me out, and somehow He knew that of all His disciples, I needed that special touch. He understood and came me just for me. To this day I realized how much He really loved me–the doubting Thomas.

According to Christian tradition, Thomas, was killed by jealous Hindu priests of Kali India. He was burned to death in 72 AD. A church is now established there and still recognizes him as an apostle.

Bryan’s note: I can relate to Thomas. I was also one who needed to know for myself that Jesus was really God and that He really did rise from the dead. It was reading “More Than a Carpenter” by Josh McDowell that propelled me into belief. If you need to know for yourself, I suggest you buy this book. (If you can’t afford it, I’ll buy it for you.)

Art: Caravaggio’s The Incredulity of Saint Thomas, c. 1601-1502, oil on canvas–Verses are from The Message, a translation by Eugene Peterson.

Your Plow is Waiting

“No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God.”

Luke 9:62 (context, vv. 57-62)

Every disciple has his plow. Sometimes it’ll be obvious, everyone sees it; other times it’ll be buried deep inside, and no one knows. A plow is a perfect word to describe exactly what the Holy Spirit is doing–and its descriptive of the determination of a disciple who is slowly learning how to follow.

When you’re trying to grow-up you’ll grasp this foundational lesson. You have to be single-minded and really focused to stay moving ahead. You cannot look behind at what has been done. You can’t turn around to admire your work, rather we look at the tree that is keeping us lined up with Jesus.

You will sweat and get tired. Your full effort is needed to keep the plow in the hard earth. You aren’t pushing, the oxen is pulling, but you’re the one who weighs it down while keeping your furrow relatively straight. It’s harder than it looks. (Thank God for the modern tractor.)

In case the plowman starts to look back, his plow line would become crooked. If that happens, the field he is plowing will not yield a full harvest. A good plowman has learned he must hold on. In following Jesus, we are to keep our eyes on Him, and never let our minds and hearts wander away. (Hebrews 12:1-2.)

“To keep our hand on the plow while wiping away the tears–THAT is Christianity.”

-Watchman Nee

To follow means looking and moving forward. We must understand this–it’s the very essence of walking a path. We’re walking out the journey. Sometimes we feel Jesus’ joy as His follower, but occasionally we won’t. We’re learning to understand it more and more. But no matter what, we keep putting heel-to-toe. We are followers after all.

Jesus lived this; He steadfastly set His face to go to Jerusalem (Luke 9:51).

“To learn strong faith is to endure great trials. I have learned my faith by standing firm amid severe testings.”

-George Mueller

Under Command

When Jesus had entered Capernaum, a centurion came to him, asking for help. ⁶“Lord,” he said, “my servant lies at home paralyzed, suffering terribly.”

⁷Jesus said to him, “Shall I come and heal him?”

⁸The centurion replied, “Lord, I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. But just say the word, and my servant will be healed. ⁹For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.”

¹³Then Jesus said to the centurion, “Go! Let it be done just as you believed it would.” And his servant was healed at that moment.

Matthew 8:5-9, 13; (see Luke 7:2-10)

Obedience was how we would survive. I understood authority and submission to my superior officers. It’s known as “the chain of command” and it’s the reason why armies function well. I blended my will to my superior, and I knew he was also under authority to his own superior.

It wasn’t easy duty as a Roman soldier among the Jews. We were hated everywhere.

But my servant was paralyzed, and I knew that he was suffering greatly, but I had run out of options. My servant was the only family I was allowed to have. Since I served as a centurion I was not allowed to have a wife for the duration of my service. Over the years I’ve kept close and trustworthy servants with me–these men were very dear to me. They were my family.

I certainly was aware that we lived in constant danger from radical Jews, especially the Zealots. They had already assassinated some of my men.

I had exhausted all efforts to bring some relief and healing to my servant, he seemed to be getting worse, not better. I had information that there was an itinerant teacher who had a reputation as a healer of diseases. This man, Jesus from Nazareth, had a large following and I realized that He was now my only possible solution.

So I went to Him for help.

He wanted to return with me to my home. His willingness to come encouraged me, but I simply couldn’t allow that. Jesus’ visit would’ve made Him ceremonially unclean–I was a Gentile, a “dog.” Returning with Him would only sow doubt among my men.

I understood that my home was officially off-limits to Him.

But yet I did understand something. I was under authority as a centurion in the Roman army, and my men followed my orders. Obedience meant survival in a very angry and hostile environment like Judea. Our entire unit was constantly drilled in this, and each man understood the need for following authority. We had to obey our superiors.

So I simply asked Jesus to heal my servant, with just His word of command.

Jesus marveled at this. He said that my adherence to protocol was evidence of real faith. I think it’s funny but He made me an equal with the Israel patriarchs. My faith was now to be emulated by the Jews.

As a Roman centurion I knew I deserved nothing. Simply, Jesus spoke a command and when I returned home my servant was healed. I came and found him completely healthy.

“As the authority of the Caesars flowed through his own yielded life, so the authority of God over diseases, demons, and all else would flow through Christ’s.”

F.B. Meyer

“Christ will always accept the faith that puts its trust in Him.”

Andrew Murray

Why, God Why?

“Why have you made me your target?…Why do you hide your face?…Why should I struggle in vain?…Why does the Almighty not set times for judgment?…Why then did you bring me out of the womb?”

Job 7:20, 13:24, 9:29, 24:1, 10:18

Job’s profound suffering is one of the most extreme in all of human history. He is essentially a godly man who loses everything (except his faith). Job must pick up the pieces after “catastrophic ” sudden pain and total loss.

Only the brutality of the cross of Jesus eclipsed the suffering of Job.

Job is being tested with dark horrors. Will he “curse God and die” as his wife suggests? Will he cave in to the final four “friends” and accept their twisted theology? (I guess that you have to read chapters 38-39 to find out).

The Book of Job has been regarded as inaccessible and archaic by many.

Unfortunately, many believe this assessment and look elsewhere for comfort. I would agree that Job is a challenging book, but so is Macbeth or Plato. There are plenty of easier books to read; but if we choose to avoid Job, our faith will always be deficient. We will miss something vital.

Job is less an explanation and more a revelation of suffering. “Why” questions go unanswered. “Who” questions matter. I suppose this seems unfair to Job. It certainly seems so to me, but straight answers in a fallen world won’t get any traction at all.

One more thing. The Book of Job is about “twisted” theology. Job’s friends “toe-the-party-line” of theology that is logical. But don’t be mislead by their pronouncements, for they seem reasonable but they are all very much flawed.

I always find it strangely amusing when some quote Eliphaz or one of the other “friends” to encourage or comfort a suffering saint. They totally miss the point of the book. We desperately want to give out good counsel but we really don’t understand.

Very often their doctrine is a doctrine devoid of love.

“If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing.” 1 Cor. 13:2

You can’t split your theology from love and get away with it. Something toxic happens if you try.

When you read “Job’s friends” you must remember that. These are lessons it takes a long time to learn. Unless the Holy Spirit tutors you, be very slow to speak. (Job’s friends were at their best at the beginning when they said nothing at all.)

The broken believer, hobbled by chronic illness, has much to learn from Job. He is like “the poster child” for those afflicted. My own illnesses are always an issue of course, but God is fully in control. He brings beauty out of the ashes. He has been more than gracious.

In my pain I cling to this promise found in Isaiah 61.

“To bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.”
Isaiah 61:3

“The moment an ill can be patiently handled, it is disarmed of its poison, though not of its pain.”
Henry Ward Beecher

When the Rooster Crows

³⁷Peter said to him, “Lord, why can I not follow you now? I will lay down my life for you.”

³⁸Jesus answered, “Will you lay down your life for me? Truly, truly, I say to you, the rooster will not crow till you have denied me three times.

John 13:37-38, ESV

Jesus had full knowledge of him, and yet, His love for him remained unwavering. Can one truly fathom the magnitude of this? In verse 37, Peter boldly declared his unwavering commitment to follow Jesus, even if it meant laying down his very life. I firmly believe in Peter’s sincerity and his readiness to follow through on his words, even if he had to die.

But Jesus bought none of it, He knew all about Peter.

He poses a question to Peter–the type of question that had to have penetrated Peter’s interior bravado. It’s said someplace that “the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” Perhaps this is true here. But Jesus knew.

In contemplating the depth of understanding that someone truly possesses about us, it becomes a fascinating journey of knowing ourselves. How well does he truly know us? Is He aware of the moments of doubt that creep into our minds, the fears that grip our hearts, and the dreams we cherish in the depths of our souls?

It is as though he sees straight through our facades and masks, peering into the deepest recesses of our being, unearthing our vulnerabilities and laying them bare.

When he casts his gaze upon us, it is not merely a superficial glance. It’s a penetrating look that delves into the very essence of our existence. In those moments, it’s as though Jesus knows our every flaw and imperfection. We cannot hide from Him, for he perceives the intricate details of our lives with a clarity that surpasses even our own self-awareness.

He knows us.

Yet, in the midst of this profound understanding, Jesus’ love remains unwavering and unconditional. It’s a love that transcends our frailties and shortcomings. It extends beyond our misplaced zeal and faltering commitments. His love for us is not based on our performance or achievements but on the simple fact that we are his creation – flawed and imperfect, yet filled with potential and worth.

In His presence, we find solace and acceptance. We are reminded that we don’t have to strive to earn his love, for it is freely given. Our weaknesses do not diminish His heart, but rather, they provide an opportunity for his grace to shine through. It is in our moments of weakness that Jesus’ strength is made perfect, and His love becomes all the more real.

So, let us embrace the reality that we are known – truly known – by Someone who cares deeply for us. Let’s cast aside the illusion of perfection and allow ourselves to be seen in our sins and flaws. For it is in this authentic state that we can fully experience the depth of His love and find true healing and restoration.

As we journey through life, let’s grab a hold of the assurance that we are known by name, understood beyond measure, and loved unconditionally. And in that love, may we find the courage to embrace our true selves and live out our purpose with confidence and joy.

That both comforts and disturbs me, and I don’t really understand how or why He does it.

Have you heard the rooster?

Maybe that’s the way He’s going to teach you the depths of his love?

“God has paid us the intolerable compliment of loving us, in the deepest, most tragic, and most inexorable sense.”

C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain

When the Father Runs

²⁰“And he arose and came to his father. But while he was still a long way off, his father saw him and felt compassion, and ran and embraced him and kissed him. ²¹And the son said to him, ‘Father, I have sinned against heaven and before you. I am no longer worthy to be called your son.’”

^22 “But the father said to his servants, ‘Bring quickly the best robe, and put it on him, and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet. ²³And bring the fattened calf and kill it, and let us eat and celebrate. ²⁴For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found.’ And they began to celebrate.”

Luke 15:20-24

“Cursed is the man that feeds the swine.” That’s the commentary on Jewish ritual cleanness. The prodigal knew this, but when you’re starving, tradition is thrown out the window. It’s really hard to be spiritually correct when your stomach is growling. In verse 17, we see that the prodigal suddenly realized his condition. Notice the change:

It took sometime for this to happen. But it was a true and a complete repentance. A total alteration of his mind and heart took place at that point. And I must assume, when he finally made the decision to return, he didn’t even say ‘good bye’ to the pigs.

It’s the Father’s reaction that fascinates me.

How does God see us? Is he angry or frustrated? And yes I suppose, there is ample reason for him to treat us with caution. Deep down, we know exactly how dark we are, and on a superficial level we realize our dirt doesn’t belong in heaven. And yet the father is in a party frame of mind. That isn’t rational.

There were no tests to see if the repentance was real.

Did he really repent, or was it all for show? The text tell us that he was hungry, maybe he just wanted a hand-out? Did he meet the criteria needed for reinstatement? It amazes me, there wasn’t a 30 day waiting period to determine whether the prodigal had truly repented. No, the party started when the father hugged his son.

Do you see the “suddenness” of this part of the story?

At least for me, the pace quickens, and I imagine the whole household jumped up to get in the act. Verse 10 explains the joy that reverberates through heaven at this, Just so, I tell you, “there is joy before the angels of God over one sinner who repents.”

Joy seems to be the key thought to really “get” these verses. If we can’t see it saturate (like a sponge) we’ll never understand this parable. Its not hard if you can read it with excitement and anticipation. If you decide to do so, it’ll make a lot of sense, and it’ll be less mysterious.

This story is as much about the father as it’s about the son.

In it we see the character of the Father revealed. We see his joy, and excitement over his son’s return. Right from the start we see him running, (v. 20) moving to his son. I can see a weeping father giving his son a big bear hug and lots of kisses. He has hoped and dreamed about this moment.

Golly, there is so much to be said: there’s a ring and shoes and a roasted calf. But I think that the overwhelming lesson is the joy of the father. It tells me much about what he’s like–and he’s not at all what I thought he’d be.

I’m convinced, after 30 years of reading this parable, that He’s the Father who is always moving, and he runs to meet us. He’s the One who is filled with joy at our return. Please dear one, take Him at His word.

“What marvelous love the Father has extended to us! Just look at it—we’re called children of God!”

1 John 3:1. MSG

Do You Speak His Language?

“The girl asked Peter, “Aren’t you one of Jesus’ disciples?”

“No,” he said, “I am not!”

“The police and the household servants were standing around a fire they had made, for it was cold. And Peter stood there with them, warming himself.”

John 18:17-18, Living Bible

The Galileans had a distinct accent. Just as we easily identify someone from Boston just by the tone and cadence of their speech, Peter had that distinct drawl that told everyone that he came from that same province as Jesus. It was something he couldn’t conceal.

Peter was a very different man in his three years of being with Jesus. And you might say that had transformed him–you might even say that he was now a marked man, the enemy was now quite aware of him. He was no longer a captain of a small fishing boat looking for a catch. He was now the leader of Jesus’ disciples.

The entire text (18:15-18) reveals a confrontation that Peter had with a servant girl, and we hear him making a bold-faced lie. At this very moment Peter was fulfilling the “promise” that Jesus had predicted (Matthew 26:31-32).

What was going through Peter’s head at that moment?

She was a simple servant girl, perhaps one who ministered at the gate of the high priest’s home. It’s interesting that she is the first one to question Peter’s duplicity. Most likely she was just doing her job, watching and listening. She was probably quite alert.

It’s easy to point our finger at Peter. He was a coward, and when he was put on the spot he bailed. People hate cowards–we extol those who take a definite stand against evil. But he was frightened, scared of being connected with Jesus–the man on trial. There was much at stake here.

We also speak with an accent. I know it might be a stretch–but being with Jesus has fundamentally changed us. Our lives now have a specific dialect that others hear, we’re not the same people that we once were.

We open our mouths and others can hear the Kingdom of God. We can’t hide that dialect.

Sometimes I try to pretend that I haven’t been with Jesus, and I’m very ashamed of that. Like Peter, I stand with the others and choose to warm myself by their fire, and I try very hard to make myself inconspicuous. But all I have to do is open my mouth, and I betray who I really am.

It’s really funny, but even servant girls know that I belong to him. He has fundamentally touched me.

“To stand before the Holy One of eternity is to change.”

Richard Foster