renunciation of all self-interest without any diminution of energy and
effort in service for the good of the world. Jesus repudiated ambition
in any form as the dynamic of human aspiration and endeavour. He
required from His disciples the completest self-renunciation, combined
with enthusiastic self-devotion to the duty of making the world better.
To give up self was not to give up service, it was simply the
substitution of a higher motive for a lower. This explains in a
measure why Christianity came to replace the Stoic and Epicurean
philosophies. Stoicism is exhibited at its best, perhaps, in the nobly
active life of the greatest of the Antonines. Its ideal was rigid
devotion to duty, that of Christ was service inspired by love.
Ambition is a mode of self service, yet if we may so expand the meaning
as to make it include the Christian principle we might say that in the
place of ambition for the sake of self Christianity substitutes
ambition for the sake of God. In each case it is love for a person
that supplies the motive for the highest human endeavours. But how
incomparably grander and stronger is the Christian principle than that
which it replaced! All useful or desirable things that men are
accustomed to do for themselves Christianity requires them to do for
God. When the apostles finally came to understand this new commandment
their Gospel became a resistless force, and whenever since their day
the Church has succeeded in doing the same Christianity has arisen in
newness of life.
[1] Essay on the Sublime and Beautiful. Sect. xii.
VI.
Peter Thinks His Sacrifice Complete.
His Consequent Expectations.
In the three synoptical Gospels we have an account of a remarkable
conversation between Peter and his Lord in regard to the reward
promised to those who took service in the Kingdom of God. The occasion
was one of special interest. A rich young ruler came to Jesus to ask
the momentous question, "What shall I do to inherit eternal life?" The
disciples appear to have been much impressed by the incident--Peter,
perhaps, most of all, for in Mark's Gospel we have the best account of
the matter. Jesus, he says, was attracted by the simplicity, humility
and earnestness of one who certainly ran the risk of incurring odium by
stooping to ask advice of the new Teacher. Peter has preserved for us
in one vivid sentence something of the very aspect of the Master in His
final reply, "_Jesus, looking upon him, loved him, and said unto him,
'One thing thou lackest; go, sell whatsoever thou hast and give to the
poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven, and come, follow me._'"
This test was too much for the seeker; he turned and "went away
sorrowful, for he was one that had great possessions." In the
discourse that followed, the Master, doubtless in a vein of mingled
sadness and solemnity, observed, "How hardly shall they that have
riches enter into the Kingdom of God!" Peter accepting his Master's
words in their most literal sense, in the light of the foregoing
incident, spoke out in his impulsive way, "Lord, we have left all and
followed Thee. What, then, shall we have?"
Two things in regard to this question have a certain significance for
us. The first, Peter's inadequate sense of the extent of the
renunciation he had made, and secondly, our Lord's patient and wise
reply. Peter evidently considered his renunciation and that of his
companions to have been complete. They had abandoned their fishing
nets, and to a certain extent their homes. They had done so on the
understanding that He who summoned them was the promised Messiah and
future King of Israel, and therefore would be able in the future to
compensate all who associated themselves with Him to their own loss.
We must not suppose that this was the leading motive which attracted
Simon and the sons of Zebedee to the new Prophet, but it is very clear
that after they had been associated with Jesus for some time ambitious
hopes for place and power began to take possession of their hearts. Of
this we have already considered an example. Up to the present they had
misapprehended the deepest principle of the Master's teaching; they
felt that abandonment of their accustomed pursuits and possessions
merited a present and material reward not to be long delayed. Hence
Peter's question--a question which no doubt related to the expectations
of his companions also. The idea of a renunciation of _themselves_, a
spiritual renunciation, had not yet become clear to them. From our
point of view it is surprising that they should so long have
misunderstood.
Had He to whom the inquiry was addressed been as most of us are, Peter
would have received another sharp rebuke. How different is Jesus's
answer on this occasion from the stern, "Get thee behind me, Satan!" of
a little while before! The difference is due to the fact that, in this
case, Peter spoke of his own renunciation, while in the former case he
had ventured to interfere with his Master's. Jesus therefore replied
with a patience and kindness that were possible only to one who saw far
beyond the moment. "There is no man," said He, "that hath left house
or brethren or sisters or mother or father or children or lands for My
sake, and for the Gospel's sake, but he shall receive a hundredfold now
in this time, houses and brethren and sisters and mothers and children
and lands with persecutions; and in the world to come eternal life.
But many that are first shall be last, and the last first." Some have
objected to the tenor of this reply, arguing that it held out false
hopes to those who heard it, and that to promise such a reward was in
any case to lower somewhat the ideal of service. When, however, we
look forward to the noble fulfilment of the promise we cannot but think
the spirit of it altogether worthy of Jesus. It is a continuance of
the superhuman insight which had led Him to assert on His first meeting
with Simon, "Thou shalt be called _Rock_." If Mark's Gospel is really
Peter's memoirs it is probable that the story of this promise was
committed to writing long after Peter had begun to recognise its
meaning. He who afterwards at the Beautiful Gate of the Temple
addressed the cripple who asked for money was a nobler Peter than the
one who now sought a similar gift for himself. "Silver and gold have I
none, but such as I have give I unto thee. In the name of Jesus Christ
of Nazareth, rise up and walk." "_Such as I have!_" Who would not
desire to share in a possession so rich? Silver and gold, social and
political prominence, had faded into nothingness in the presence of the
privilege of speaking "in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth."
A mortal, sin's familiar friend, doth here
Avow that he will give all earth's reward,
But to believe and humbly teach the faith,
In suffering and poverty and shame,
Only believing he is not unloved.[1]
[1] R. Browning, Pauline.
VII.
The Scene in the Upper Room.
As our Lord's earthly ministry draws to a close the spiritual history
of the first Apostles reaches a crisis. The scene in the Upper Room
has for us a special interest in this connection. It is recorded in
all the four Gospels in such a manner as to establish its importance
and historicity. As usual Peter's own account is the most vivid, but
Luke supplies us with a sentence from which we learn more of the state
of affairs than is given by the other three. This is exceptional, for
Luke, as a rule, idealises the Apostles. He tells us that "there arose
also a contention among them which of them is accounted to be
greatest." We see then that even into the Upper Room and to the last
Supper had penetrated the jealousies, rivalries and ambitions of these
few men who were afterwards to become heroes of the Cross. We only
associate the upper room with thoughts of peace and sacredness, but
here is another side of the matter. It may well be that the little
meeting ended in solemnity and quietness, but it can hardly have begun
so. The stamp of truth seems to rest on John's account of what took
place, simply because it expresses so naturally Jesus's method of
dealing with the contention which Luke says was in existence. He rose
from the table and performed for His followers the ceremony their
jealousy of one another had made them omit. The foot-washing may have
had a direct reference to the future practice of mutual service, but it
had also an immediate significance. The disciples refused to wash one
another's feet, and the Lord and Master of them all undertook the duty
Himself. Perhaps the change of feeling induced by this simple and
lowly act made possible the beautiful utterances which only John has
preserved for us (John xiii.-xvii.).
In the forefront of this discourse, however, Jesus exchanged a few
sentences of special emphasis with Peter. "Simon, Simon," He declared,
"behold, Satan, asked to have you that he might sift you as wheat; but
I made supplication for thee, that thy faith fail not; and do thou,
when once thou hast turned again, stablish thy brethren." This
statement of tender solicitude must have been called forth by His
knowledge of the contention which had been taking place. Doubtless He
was filled with sorrow that Peter had not yet learned the lesson of
humility and self-forgetfulness. He foresaw the failure, the
cowardice, the denial, but He foresaw, too, the repentance, the
restoration, and the greater Peter whose strength should lie in his
humility and willingness to be led by the Spirit of God. But at this
moment the very last person to see any need of such a change was Peter
himself. Jesus went on to describe what in the time immediately
following would happen to the little band. "All ye," He said, "shall
be offended in Me this night, for it is written, Ye shall smite the
Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad." Peter
instantly declared, "Though all shall be offended in Thee I will never
be offended." What feelings were contending in his mind at the moment
we can only conjecture. Possibly he felt a little sore at the implied
rebuke contained in the foot-washing and in the prophecy of the sifting
which had followed it. More probably, however, the simple affection
which he really had for his Master impelled him to declare his loyalty.
"Exceeding vehemently," according to his own account, he persisted, "If
I must _die_ with Thee I will not deny Thee." He felt it was possible
that Jesus might in the coming danger need to rely upon the services of
an active and courageous friend like himself. Doubtless he felt every
word he said, but he also felt the importance of the assistance he
could render to Jesus. It never occurred to him that Jesus had no need
of his assistance. Peter needed a sharp lesson, and ere long he had
it. The secret of true service consists in self-emptying. He learned
the true spirit of his Master's teaching only after the utter and
painful failure of his own self-confident promises. For the present
Jesus's only reply was, "Verily I say unto thee, that thou, to-day,
even this night, before the cock crow twice shalt deny me thrice."
VIII.
Gethsemane and After.
The testing time was not far distant. Peter, filled with determination
to show his loyalty and courage, seems to have carried away from the
upper room one of two swords that had lain therein. He believed
himself ready for emergencies, but failed at the very outset to give
what his Master really needed. Once again we find the story told best
by Peter himself. He, James and John were stationed by their Master's
desire a little nearer to His person than were the others. Most
pathetically Jesus entreated their sympathy. "My soul is exceeding
sorrowful even unto death. Abide ye here and watch." This, however,
they proved themselves unable to do. Luke says they were "sleeping for
sorrow," and most likely this is in a measure true. They could not
have been indifferent to their Master's trouble. He had given them
sufficient opportunity to observe His state of mind, and doubtless they
had done so, and were stirred with affectionate sympathy. Nevertheless
this sympathy did not go so far as to enable them to share in His
vigil. Probably Peter considered himself as a guard to His person--the
intensity of his Master's agony he could not understand. His emphatic
promise in the upper room, however, was being badly fulfilled. Even if
he were no more than a guard to Christ's person he should have kept
awake. In his own account of the scene he places the emphasis on this
point: "And He cometh and findeth them sleeping, and saith unto Peter,
Simon, sleepest _thou_? Couldest thou not watch _one hour_? Watch and
pray, that ye enter not into temptation." The implied reproach here
has reference almost certainly to the vehemence of Peter's promise of
superior loyalty. "Though all shall be offended yet will not I."
Jesus gently reminded him of the promise, and signified that he had
begun badly in the way of keeping it. The Master recognised, however,
the sincerity and simple affection of the Apostle in His concluding
words, "The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak."
Even while Jesus was speaking the surprise came. Judas and the rabble
with swords, staves and lanterns burst into the garden. Instantly all
was confusion and alarm; only Jesus remained calm and self-possessed.
Judas stepped forward and kissed Him; the disciples hurried to His
side, Peter drew his sword, and without waiting for explanations struck
at the foremost of the advancing band. The act was one of sheer folly;
it might have involved himself and his companions in one common ruin.
So far from saving Jesus it was Jesus who now saved him. The Master
turned hastily round and with quick gesture bade Peter restore the
sword to its place, saying, "They that take the sword shall perish with
the sword." The statement no doubt had immediate reference to Peter's
rashness. Jesus saw that any of His disciples taken with arms in their
hands would forfeit their lives. The warning did not need to be
repeated; Peter's new-found courage had already deserted him. The
assailants seem to have been in similar case. To save His disciples
Jesus confronted them, and as He advanced they retreated, stumbling
over one another, till, as John relates, they fell to the ground.
"Whom seek ye?" asked the victim of Pharisaic hate. "Jesus of
Nazareth," they replied. "I am He," was the rejoinder, and then, with
a thoughtfulness and love of which in this dreadful hour Jesus only
seems to have been capable, He continued, "If therefore ye seek Me let
these go their way." For some moments the officers hesitated; the
majesty and dignity of Him whom they had come to seize cast a spell
upon them; no one liked to be the first to arrest Him, and Jesus had to
declare Himself a second time ere the leaders ventured to execute their
commission. The moment this was done, however, "all the disciples left
Him. and fled."
So far Peter's self-assertion had ended in failure, but further
humiliation was yet to come. He could not bear to remain in ignorance
of the fate of a Master whom he really and truly loved; so, checking
his flight, when he saw the procession move off he followed it at a
safe distance. His friend and partner, John, who appears to have had
friends in the house of Caiaphas, obtained admission for him and he
waited therein, as Matthew says, "to see the end." All his bravery had
now deserted him; he was in a strange city where men of his province
were despised and ridiculed. He was only a humble fisherman, and
stricken with fear by finding himself in the power of authorities
ecclesiastical and secular. Humanly speaking, his next mistake was one
that might have been prophesied. He was discovered and questioned; in
his bewilderment and terror all the coarseness of his old Galilean life
returned upon him, and, forgetful of everything but the desire of
saving himself, he denied his Master, with cursing and swearing. Jesus
directed upon him a second reproach, this time a mute one. He "turned
and looked upon Peter," but that look was enough. It brought him to
his senses, laid bare his miserable failure, ingratitude, cowardice and
broken promises. He saw how completely he had fallen beneath himself
by over-confidence in himself. The Peter of that moment was not the
real Peter, after all. He did love his Master, and had run the risk of
arrest and death to get near Him again, but his humiliation was
complete and his self-abasement intense. "He went out and wept
bitterly." Shall we say that the experience of the next few days was
the greatest crisis in his career? From this depth of humiliation he
rose qualified to become an ambassador and a saviour.
IX.
The Power of the Resurrection.
We know nothing of Peter's history during the anguished hours that
intervened between the Crucifixion and the Resurrection, but we may
believe that his shame and contrition continued until Jesus Himself
breathed in his ear words of forgiveness and hope. We may infer
indirectly that Peter must have been humbled by the recollection of his
own self-confident boasting in the presence of the other apostles, for
we find him still in association with them. The little company seems
to have held together to mourn their lost Master and to assist each
other with a common sympathy. That Peter must have been with them is
clear from the fact that he was mentioned by name to the women who
visited the tomb on the first day of the week. "Go, tell His disciples
_and Peter_, He goeth before you into Galilee." When we consider that
Peter still associated with those who had listened to his
self-confident assumption of superiority to themselves we can discern
something more than remorse in his demeanour. There is evidence of a
new humility, and yet at the same time a continuance of tender
affection for the Lord whom he fully believed he should never see again.
There is one incident in which Jesus was concerned after the
Resurrection of which there is no record--there could be none. It is
the first interview between Jesus and Peter after the Resurrection.
The disciples in the upper room were informed that the Lord had
appeared unto Simon. What took place at that first meeting we can
never imagine; it must have been a season of such sacredness and
solemnity that Peter would not be likely to say much about it to his
brethren. The loving thoughtfulness of Jesus bade Him seek out His
humiliated and sorrow-stricken follower that He might assure him of
forgiveness and restoration. Very intense and holy must their
intercourse have been. From this moment Peter became a great and noble
character; his discipline has not been for nothing, his self-seeking is
at an end; ambition has no place in his mind for the future; arrogance
and self-confidence thenceforth must have given place to a lowliness
born of the remembrance of his cowardice and wretched failure. When in
after days he wrote for the guidance of the saints he was writing from
the depths of his own experience: "Yea, all of you gird yourselves with
humility to serve one another, for God resisteth the proud, but giveth
grace to the humble" (1 Peter v. 5).
The appearance of genuineness rests upon this New Testament story. In
its idyllic simplicity and faithfulness to the facts of human nature it
stands in marked contrast to the spurious and unauthorised legends
about Jesus and His Apostles with which the sub-apostolic age abounded.
The Church has not lost much, in all probability, by the oblivion in
which these lesser gospels have been buried. To unearth them now
would, no doubt, be of service in throwing light upon critical problems
in regard to the existing New Testament texts, but they could add
nothing to the sweet and natural accounts of the spiritual history of
the men who guided the early Church. We know Peter better from the
pages of the four Gospels than we do from legendary accounts.
Indirectly this faithfulness of the evangelic records is of great
assistance in establishing their historicity. Nothing is concealed, or
toned down, that we ought to know, nothing that would tend to represent
the Apostles as superhuman or exceptional in their lofty character is
thrust upon our notice; we are permitted to see Peter as he really was,
a man made noble by the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ.
What he was, we are. Ambition, self-seeking, self-confidence, have
throughout the history of Christendom been the most serious defects of
the strongest characters. Sometimes these vices have been displayed
upon a grand scale, oftener their scope has been petty and mean. The
sins of the Catholic Church, as painted by a Bernard or a Catherine of
Siena, are to be found in many a little Bethel in the Protestant
England of our day. Simony is not unknown amongst the ministers of
Christ, even in the ranks of Non-conformity. Not unfrequently these
sinful tendencies are to be found allied with a true and earnest desire
to serve the Master. All the same, they are a serious hindrance, not
only to Christian character, but to the effect of Christian service;
the spirit in which a man does his work has the profoundest influence
upon the good result of that work. Where a man is sincere in his wish
to do good, and yet at the same time in any degree the victim of his
own self-confidence or self-seeking, he is sooner or later brought to
the point where he must choose between his wish and his practice. In
nearly every case the necessity for this choice is revealed to him by a
sharp discipline. Peter's case is repeated again and again in the
lives of the servants of God. It is hard to dislodge self from its
vantage-ground in the region of human motives. It would be hard to
find a church in which selfishness or jealousy had neither place nor
influence, and it is uncommonly difficult, even for a good and true
man, not to feel elated by admiration or depressed by being surpassed.
But surely the cure for this kind of feeling is included in the very
nature of Christian service. There is absolutely no relation between
moral excellence and worldly recognition of it. We have conceded
something to the world when we stop to think of its applause as an
object of desire. It is easier to go without such applause and to
labour in obscurity than it is to remain unaffected by it once it has
been bestowed. Still harder is it for a man to retire from a position
and a duty in which he has done nobly and well, and then to see his
bishopric taken by another. Sooner or later this experience falls to
the lot of most of God's heroes; it were well, therefore, that they
should recognise it in advance, count the cost, know their own minds,
and render unnecessary the sharp discipline which accompanies
self-discovery. When God means to use us, as He meant to use Peter, He
never spares us. Jesus could not afford to allow Peter to go his own
way, and therefore it was that the prince of the Apostles became an
instrument for good, yet so as by fire.
X.
A New Commission.