The Value of Humiliation

AM Psalm 102 • PM Psalm 107:1-32
1 Samuel 9:1-14 • Acts 7:17-29 • Luke 22:31-38

“Oh, I would never do that.” Surely every one of us has said that at some point and then later proved ourselves wrong. Ever the slow learner, I had to go through the process an embarrassing number of times before I caught on. It may be that just saying the words (“Oh, I would never...”) is something of a jinx that insures that sooner than later we will, in fact, “do that.” I think instead the lesson is just a reflection of the botched human condition. To be human is to be both prideful and weak.

In today’s gospel, Peter, that paragon of impulsiveness, assures Jesus that in the rough times just ahead he will remain beside his teacher even to a prison cell or to the grave. “No you won’t,” Jesus tells him. You will turn your back on me, and in fact you will “do that” three times in a matter of hours.

We know the larger story—before this Peter’s wrongheaded idea of building isolating huts on the mountaintop and his sinking into the sea when his faith falters, and after this his remarkable courage proclaiming the gospel until he is finally martyred. In looking for a key moment when the first Peter turns toward the second, it’s natural to point to that moment in the closed room when the resurrected Christ appears, but I wonder whether this earlier time—Peter’s confident boast followed by his panicked betrayal—played a vital role as well.

When Jesus reappears, he does not rebuke Peter and the others but grants them the peace that surely none of them feels or, more to the point, none feels that they deserve. You may have turned your back on me, he is saying, but I am with you in your weakness and always will be. That combination—deep humiliation followed by being fully forgiven and accepted—can inspire the kind of courage that Peter exemplified when he and the other disciples left that closed room.

It also can inspire humility and deep compassion for others and forgiveness of their shortcomings. Tradition has it that Peter presides at the pearly gates that open onto heaven. I sure hope so. We should all be thankful if the person with the keys knows better than most about the weaknesses and moral failures that we all bring to the gates.

Written by Elliott West

Elliott teaches history at the University of Arkansas. He has been a member of St. Paul’s for thirty years.