Comparison's Confinement
From John 13 – 6 Then He came to Simon Peter. And Peter said to Him, "Lord, are you washing my feet?"
7 Jesus answered and said to him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but you will know after this." 8 Peter said to Him "You shall never wash my feet!" Jesus answered him, "if I do not wash you, you have no part with Me."
In his book on the decade The Fifties, David Halberstam considers how Allen Ginsberg measured himself. "He had to be a genius, or nothing."
In the Gospel of John's narrative of the intimate occurrences in the upper room, we might see some similar thinking and Peter, and in ourselves. Among the disciples, Peter was the first among equals. He had the Lord's commendation that Heaven revealed to him Christ's identity as Messiah, and no doubt some sense of self-worth for declaring it first. Right or wrong, Peter is wired to speak up first, and most often. He even has the misguided courage to take Christ aside.
Such experience and perpetual self-measurement doesn't abide well with being treated on level ground with everyone else. Peter proved this spirit of separation wasn't far from his mind with his Matthew 26:33 boast in the same setting, “Even if all are made to stumble because of You, I will never be made to stumble.” We might read John 13:6 with as much emphasis on the "my" as on the "you." Lord, are YOU washing MY feet? None for me. Thanks.
Peter recoils, it seems, at having to go through the same lesson as everyone else. His theology is better, and bolder. He sees Christ for more of Who He is, and has the merit badge to prove it. Out of that group at that time, at least, he's the genius. Or nothing.
He has to consider the frightening, even if temporary, emptiness in the second possibility as Christ the Master Teacher progresses to verse seven. In retrospect, and not as the disciple under Christ's gaze, we warm with Jesus' grace and patience toward Peter. But already on the defensive, the designation that Peter would understand later (Later than the other disciples?) must have initially landed with a legalistic thud of the gavel. Peter, move from the head of the class to the remedial group.
How do we handle the reality of Switchfoot's lyrics in "Who We Are", when life's events or participants tell us, "There's still time to choose who we are"? Do we over-sensitively sniff for condescension or the heaping of shame on our already slumping shoulders? Or, do we dig deeper for gratitude and a better sense of Christ's slow, sovereign arc for our progress in becoming like Him?
Each confrontation, each crossroads, like the one Peter endures red-faced in John 13:6-7 means, by God's grace, there's still time to choose who we are. With George Will in The Woven Figure, we admit retroactively, "There's no hatred as corrupting as intellectual hatred," especially when we direct its condemning power toward ourselves for what we have heretofore failed to understand.
When we hear that voice for what it is, for WHOSE it is, we begin to crave it for relief rather than resist it because submitting to it will involve admitting before men that we are still a work in progress.
That voice behind John 13:7 moments belongs to the One Who with one word, "Mary!" dispelled before His empty tomb Mary Magdalene's notion that any continuation of the relationship depended on her exertion. That voice behind John 13:7 moments comes from the One Who is faithful to finish what He began in us.
His is the timeline. His is ALL time. And His is the long-suffering to abide with us as he chooses life's a long way in order to remake us. We signed up for the slow group with less self-inflicted stigma. We also realize we don't struggle alone. Shedding a stifling sense of one-dimensional superiority, bitterness toward our peers also loses much of its grip. "I cannot," confesses Tim Keller in God's Wisdom for Navigating Life, "stay angry with someone unless I feel superior to them."
7 Jesus answered and said to him, "What I am doing you do not understand now, but you will know after this." 8 Peter said to Him "You shall never wash my feet!" Jesus answered him, "if I do not wash you, you have no part with Me."
In his book on the decade The Fifties, David Halberstam considers how Allen Ginsberg measured himself. "He had to be a genius, or nothing."
In the Gospel of John's narrative of the intimate occurrences in the upper room, we might see some similar thinking and Peter, and in ourselves. Among the disciples, Peter was the first among equals. He had the Lord's commendation that Heaven revealed to him Christ's identity as Messiah, and no doubt some sense of self-worth for declaring it first. Right or wrong, Peter is wired to speak up first, and most often. He even has the misguided courage to take Christ aside.
Such experience and perpetual self-measurement doesn't abide well with being treated on level ground with everyone else. Peter proved this spirit of separation wasn't far from his mind with his Matthew 26:33 boast in the same setting, “Even if all are made to stumble because of You, I will never be made to stumble.” We might read John 13:6 with as much emphasis on the "my" as on the "you." Lord, are YOU washing MY feet? None for me. Thanks.
Peter recoils, it seems, at having to go through the same lesson as everyone else. His theology is better, and bolder. He sees Christ for more of Who He is, and has the merit badge to prove it. Out of that group at that time, at least, he's the genius. Or nothing.
He has to consider the frightening, even if temporary, emptiness in the second possibility as Christ the Master Teacher progresses to verse seven. In retrospect, and not as the disciple under Christ's gaze, we warm with Jesus' grace and patience toward Peter. But already on the defensive, the designation that Peter would understand later (Later than the other disciples?) must have initially landed with a legalistic thud of the gavel. Peter, move from the head of the class to the remedial group.
How do we handle the reality of Switchfoot's lyrics in "Who We Are", when life's events or participants tell us, "There's still time to choose who we are"? Do we over-sensitively sniff for condescension or the heaping of shame on our already slumping shoulders? Or, do we dig deeper for gratitude and a better sense of Christ's slow, sovereign arc for our progress in becoming like Him?
Each confrontation, each crossroads, like the one Peter endures red-faced in John 13:6-7 means, by God's grace, there's still time to choose who we are. With George Will in The Woven Figure, we admit retroactively, "There's no hatred as corrupting as intellectual hatred," especially when we direct its condemning power toward ourselves for what we have heretofore failed to understand.
When we hear that voice for what it is, for WHOSE it is, we begin to crave it for relief rather than resist it because submitting to it will involve admitting before men that we are still a work in progress.
That voice behind John 13:7 moments belongs to the One Who with one word, "Mary!" dispelled before His empty tomb Mary Magdalene's notion that any continuation of the relationship depended on her exertion. That voice behind John 13:7 moments comes from the One Who is faithful to finish what He began in us.
His is the timeline. His is ALL time. And His is the long-suffering to abide with us as he chooses life's a long way in order to remake us. We signed up for the slow group with less self-inflicted stigma. We also realize we don't struggle alone. Shedding a stifling sense of one-dimensional superiority, bitterness toward our peers also loses much of its grip. "I cannot," confesses Tim Keller in God's Wisdom for Navigating Life, "stay angry with someone unless I feel superior to them."
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