""The Secret Diary of Thomas"

Readings: Psalm 150, Acts 5:27-32, Revelation 1:4-8, John 20:19-31
Preached at Bridgehampton Presbyterian Church, NY, April 24, 2022

17th day of the first month - Nisan.

It's not easy being a twin! Particularly when you have a sister like Lysia. I mean we get on pretty well most of the time, as well as any sister and brother, but I sometimes think that when it comes to the commonsense department, my twin sister is severely lacking.  She never seems to think things through. She changes her mind as readily as the wind changes direction.  One moment it's, "Oh, I'm going to do this" the next it's "Oh, we don't do that anymore... that's so old!".  Why can't she plan ahead? If I told her the world was made of goats’ cheese, then she'd probably believe me! Head in the clouds. I do love her.  But I also fear for her. She is so gullible.

Last day of Nisan.

Lysia is taking me to meet this guy from Nazareth tomorrow.  It's kind of a job I have to do. Look out for suitable marriage partners for my dear sister.  But she keeps telling me "No, it's not like that!" and that I need to hear the things this man talks about.  When I ask her what sort of things she just says "Well, God things, religion, but all sort of new and different, not like in synagogue". Oh,  Lysia! Not another fly by night preacher filling your head with empty dreams. It is probably some cult or sect trying to make their leader rich by preying on people’s gullibility.

A week later

Today I went back to see the Rabbi Jesus again. For once Lysia was right. He really is different. My conversations with Him are causing me to evaluate a whole host of things in my life.  He rightly speaks of the moral bankruptcy of much current religious practice and His insight to the scriptures is both startling and refreshing.  Of course, I do not go along with everything He says (Some of it is more obscure than believable) but do His words make sense? He is honest, He really cares, He is not afraid to speak out His truth despite the consequences. I find Him answering questions that are forming in my mind before I have even opened my mouth to speak them out.  He really is worth paying attention to.

The middle of  Iyyar.

It is now or never. Many times, I have wondered how best I should spend my days.  I have always had this nagging uncertainty about my current work.  Now, the Rabbi Jesus, whose words are changing the way I see all things, is taking His message to a wider audience, calling others to share with Him in the work.  He challenged me. I can still hear his word, "Thomas, are you with me?" Heart and soul cry out "Yes". But can I leave everything? What of Lysia? Can the rest of the family manage? "Trust God" He said. It's not that easy. He doesn't know my sister like I do. Should I go?

Two years later

It has been two years now since I left everything behind. I made the right choice. At home things are fine. Lysia is settled with a good husband. And I am learning so much. I have witnessed things that I would not have believed if I had not seen them with my own eyes. Deaf people restored to hearing. The blind see. The lame walk.  "These are signs" Jesus is teaching us "Of the Kingdom, Revelations of God's Presence". When you balance the deeds done, with the words spoken, it all makes sense. I tell you though, I would find it hard to believe these things were it not for what I now know of the One who is instrumental in causing them to happen.

A few weeks prior to Passover

I sometimes wonder where the commitment of the others of our group really lies. Surely, they listened that time Jesus told us about counting the cost. Today a weird sequence of events. We were busy when a message reached us that Lazarus, a great friend of Jesus had died. We had heard he was ill, but Jesus had said that it was going to be O.K.  Some of the Jews in Judea where Lazarus lived with Mary and sister Martha had turned hostile towards us. They threatened to stone us to death if we went back there. Jesus told us straight; “Lazarus has died, and I was glad that I was not there - for your sakes, that you may learn to believe." Then He said, "Let's go". I do not understand why the others were so hesitant. We knew it was going to be dangerous. We knew that a revolution was taking place. Now, I have no death wish, but if Jesus says go, then I will go.  Even if it costs my life. Didn't the others realize the depth of commitment Jesus was asking of them? "Come on" I told them, "Let us go and face the stones if that's what it takes". So glad we did.  Amazing things took place. Lazarus came walking out the grave alive. I am still trying to think it through myself!

Festival time.

Things are becoming intense. We came into Jerusalem last night, in time for the Passover festival. Some people gave Jesus a hero’s welcome, but others are all out to get Him. And He knows it. At Supper last night, Jesus spoke about betrayal and death, about how serving Him would bring trouble, not just blessing.  He shamed us all by taking a bowl and washing our feet - telling us that if we want to be great then we must serve each other. Before and after supper He took bread and wine and spoke about His body being broken and His blood poured out.

Like I say, things are intense right now.  Troubles coming. I do not know how this is all going to end up.  Jesus was saying to Peter that He had to go away somewhere, somewhere where we could not go right now, but could go along later. It was all so confusing. It was almost like a farewell party!

Trouble is, I really do not know where my life is heading. I was getting real upset. We all were. Jesus must have sensed it. "Don't be distressed" He said. "Put your faith in me - I'm going ahead of you to prepare a place for you - You know where I am going, and you know the way I'm going to take".

Thing is, I don't know where He's going. When I asked Him to explain, all He did was smile at me and say that He was the way... and truth and life as well. That if we had known His Father, then we'd know where He was going... and something about how because we'd been with Him all this time, we had seen the Father. I am more than a little confused. Why does He speak in riddles all the time?

Passover Day.

This has been the darkest day of my life. I knew trouble was coming. How did things spiral out of control so quickly? I underestimated the hatred and cruelty of even those who profess to be children of God. I cannot even bear to write of these cruel events. How could they take my Jesus in such a way, crucified like a common criminal!

My faith is in tatters.
I am so scared.

Three days later.

Still reeling from all that has happened.  Most of us are hiding out.  What a mistake.  Three years of my life spent for what?  It's hard to believe.  Even harder to swallow is the reaction of some of the women.  They told us today that Jesus had risen from death. Sure girls, that nail scarred, sword pierced corpse that has rotted in the tomb for the last three days is walking round town as if nothing had happened!  I guess we all must deal with this thing in our own way. But deluding ourselves into thinking that He is still with us is not the way forward. I can understand it.  Sometimes intense grief produces a corresponding action. I feel sorry for them. I just hope they get over it soon.

Four days later.

Can you believe it?  Now Peter and the other disciples are saying the same thing as those poor deluded women.  I think I am the only one here who has not lost their capacity for reasonable thinking.  They are even quoting scriptures at me and telling me that Jesus said this was what was going to happen.  I remember Him talking about dying and being raised on the third day, but surely, as any sane person would agree, He was speaking about the afterlife, not coming back to haunt us like a ghost or an apparition. As I told them today, "Unless I see in His own hands the mark of the nails, and put my finger where the nail was, and put my hand into His side, I will never believe." I think the lot of them have lost it. Just as well I am here to run around getting provisions and seeing to business. It will pass.  They will come back to reality sooner or later.  They must.

Just over a week later.

We were in the room.  The doors were locked. Next minute, there is Jesus standing there, saying, "Peace be with you". "Put your finger here" He said to me, " Know me by the scars, See and touch, don't doubt any more. Believe." And I thought the others were the ones who were deluded!  It all made sense.  I fell to my knees before Him and worshiped.  Despite all I have previously written, Christ is risen.  He seemed almost surprised that it took such a thing to make a believer of me. "How happy" he said, "Are those who have never seen me and yet have believed”.

Again though, I am in somewhat of a dilemma. Where to from here?  "Wait in Jerusalem", He told us, "Then power will come upon you to be witnesses to all people".  It all sounds so straightforward when I read back over the pages of this diary. Looking back is so much easier than looking forward into the unknown.

I guess all faith is a bit like that. It is something that gradually builds up around our lives. Something happens to us. It changes the way we see things.  Sometimes it makes the unbelievable believable. But that step is just a step-in preparation for the next thing that God wants to show us.  

I never thought for one moment that, when my twin sister Lysia took me to meet this guy who knew a bit about religion, that I would be so taken by His teachings. I never thought of myself as a follower, more of a free thinker, but when something comes along that so radically alters your perception of life, you are challenged to go further.  As you go on in that journey of faith there are always such tremendous surprises around the next turn.

Defeated sinners becoming confident Saints.
Kings becoming servants and servants becoming Kings.
Crucifixions turning to Resurrections.  
Laughter breaking forth from desolate empty tombs.
God in Christ.
Christ in us, alive and leading us forward.
As Jesus said, "You must not doubt. Believe."

Lord, I believe.
I believe.
I believe.
I believe.
"You must not doubt. Believe."

The Reverend Adrian J. Pratt B.D.

Easter Sunday 2022 “Norman, Why Do You Weep?”

Readings: Psalm 114, Isaiah 65:17-25, Acts 10:34-43, John 20:1-18
Easter Sunday Service
 Preached at Bridgehampton Presbyterian Church, NY, April 17 2022

Way back in time, many, many moons ago, I was in my final year of seminary, and I was presented with the exciting opportunity of going into a recording studio to record some songs I had written. Despite a few obstacles, the songs turned out reasonably O.K. and the master tape of my album, titled “Jester Before The Throne,” on the Solar Sound label, was sent to the pressing plant to be made into a 12 inch piece of black vinyl with a hole in the middle.

This was of course in the days of LP's... before 8-tracks, cassette tapes, CD’s , MP3’s, Spotify and I-tunes came along. And long before vinyl would make a comeback.

The Solar Sound label were promising big things. Distribution deals. Nationwide coverage. Radio play. Interviews. It all looked very promising.

So, I thought I had better get something ready for a follow up recording. I figured that by that time, I’d be serving a church, and hit on the idea of making a recording of twelve songs that went along with themes that were emphasized in the 12 different months of the Christian year.

January, a ‘New Year Song.’ February, a love song for Valentines Day, March, something for Lent and Good Friday, April an Easter Song, May a Pentecost Piece, June, a song celebrating youth and the summertime, and so on.

Furthermore, as I’d grown up with some guys who were really talented songwriters and had helped me out over the years, I’d invite them to contribute songs on different themes, and give their talents some exposure.

I had not calculated for a few major obstacles along the way. First off, my musical masterpiece on vinyl became stuck at the pressing plant, and when it finally appeared it had not been manufactured correctly and was virtually unplayable. This involved some heated negotiating with the manufacturers.

Then the Solar Sound record company went bankrupt. This meant that all their stock, including my efforts, were being held as collateral and of course any hope of distribution or nationwide coverage went out of the window. It appears that I was not predestined to become a rock star after all.

But some of my friends had taken the task to heart of composing some songs on Christian themes related to months of the year. One of them sent me an Easter Song. It appeared to have the unusual title of  “Norman, Why do you weep?”

‘Wow,’ I thought “This is pretty radical dude.” Taking the concept of the Easter story and earthing it in the experience of an everyday man in the street, who is struggling to get through the disappointment’s life had sent his way, a man called Norman. Norman, in the light of the Easter had nothing to fear; so “Norman, Why do you weep!”

Of course, the song wasn’t really about anybody called Norman at all. I mis-read the author’s handwritten title. It didn’t say ‘Norman’, but ‘Woman’ “Woman, Why do you weep?” It was based on the experience of Mary.  The reading we heard this morning, in which she encounters a gardener at the empty tomb, who asks the reason for her tears, and the gardener turns out to be the Risen Lord Himself, and Mary’s fear turns to joy.  

Such was of course no less a radical experience than envisaged for the mythical Norman, and although the song and the proposed recording of songs to do with seasons and months never happened, that title... “Norman, Why do you weep’ and the idea that the Easter message was something to encourage people of all places and all times, has stuck with me over the years.

That is the message I want to share about Easter this morning. Whether our name is Mary, Norman, Adrian, John, or Mary-Jane, whoever we are, at the heart of the Easter experience is an experience that changes tears to laughter and mourning into dancing.

In just a few words that experience is captured by the phrase
‘Christ is Risen” (He is Risen Indeed)

Grammatically, the phrase Christ is Risen (He is Risen Indeed) is badly constructed. We should say “Christ Has Risen” or “Jesus was raised from the dead”, but by using the term “is” we seek to express that the resurrection of Jesus Christ is a present reality, a current happening and event, something that can touch our lives in the now, something that was not just for back then, something that is not only for the future, but is an 'is' that is for today.

Our lives today have the capacity to be transformed by the Living Lord Jesus Christ. That is what we celebrate at Easter time. That the circle of birth, pointless existence and ultimately death and extinction, has been broken into pieces by God raising Jesus from death and promising that those who put their faith in Him can share in His resurrection life.

Such does not mean that life will not bring along its share of disappointments, its moments when tears are the only correct response, moments when the pain is all that can be felt or that the struggle is so much with us that we cannot see any light at the end of the road.  Life has its moments when our best laid plans crumble into dust.

Indeed, the message of the Cross is that life can be so desperately unfair, that sin continues to destroy and ruin and decimate the life we live on earth, so much so that even the Son of God cries out upon the Cross “My God. My God, Why have You forsaken Me?”

But the tears, the cry of anguish, the suffering, the striving… these are not the last word or the final word. The final word is “Resurrection.” Christ is Risen! (He is Risen Indeed).

So today I stand and proclaim the Easter Message.

That the Jesus who died for us, was raised for us.
That He knows our name and knows our hurts and knows our hearts.
That He is at the Fathers side and intercedes on our behalf.
That God will send the Resurrection Holy Spirit, the Spirit of Re-forming, Re-Newing, Re-Storing our lives to all those who seek to do God’s will in sincerity and with whole heartedness.

And it does not matter if our name is Norman or Elma or Bob or Lucy or Mary or Peter. And it does not matter what may be causing our tears, our tears of laughter, our tears of joy, our tears of despair, our tears of joy.

Jesus calls to us, “Norman, Why do you weep, Woman why do you weep?”

And that is an invitation.
An invitation to place our lives into God's hands.
An invitation that needs responding to with an 'Hallelujah”.

    Hallelujah... there's a God who knows
    Hallelujah... there's a God who understands
    Hallelujah... there's a God who forgives
    Hallelujah... there's a God who sent His Son Jesus Christ

    who was raised for us
    who lives for us
    who lives within us by His Holy Spirit
    who has a purpose for us
    who has a way through the tears for us
    who has a hope for us
    who has a place for us
    who has a prayer for us
    who has a healing touch for us
    who has an encouraging word for us
    who see us as we really are
    knows us better than we know ourselves
    cares for us more than we care for ourselves
    loves us, loves, loves us,
    loves us enough to die for us
    with a love that is stronger than death.
    Hallelujah!!!

    Norman, why do you weep?    
    Woman, why do you weep?
    Weep no more.

     For Christ is risen.
     “He is risen indeed”

    Amen and Amen!
                                                
The Reverend Adrian J. Pratt B.D.

Good Friday “In The Cross Of Christ, I Glory”

Readings: Psalm 22:1-11, Isaiah 53:1-9, Hebrews 4:14-16, Luke 23:26-47
Bridgehampton Presbyterian Church, April 15, 2022

Have you ever considered what a strange thing it is that the central truth of Christianity is the death of its founder? Our natural reaction to death seems to be to recoil from it in horror, yet here we are on Good Friday contemplating an act of murder upon an innocent man. Why? I can't answer that question for all of you, but I can share three reasons why I focus on the Cross as a pivotal point for my understanding of life.

The Cross reveals;
1.    A God who identifies totally with our world
2.    A God of awe inspiring, terrible,  love
3.    A God who is the Savior

1. The Cross reveals a God who totally identifies with the heights and depths of the human condition.

Sometimes I look around at the world and hum along with Louis Armstrong; 'What a wonderful World'. When the sun shines, the birds sing, and you are fit and well, and everything is going O.K... yes... that's nice.

But other times I watch the television or pick up a newspaper and I think, no, life is not beautiful, for many people it seems like hell. Ukraine. The terrible suffering some endure, acts of war, victims of torture and atrocity, starving millions... a wonderful world? Sometimes I think 'You must be joking,  Louis, quit singing!'. The natural world is beautiful, but it can be so cruel. The law of the jungle is kill or be killed, predator and victim, survival of the fittest... and that isn't just the animal’s situation but appears to be a part of human life.

I feel in myself a huge tension. That there is within me a spirit which desires the things of this world far more than the things of God's Kingdom, that seeks for my own satisfaction rather than the good of all. Although I claim to follow Christ, I am often painfully aware of my inability to either love God with all my heart, mind, and soul or to love my neighbor as much as I love myself.

But when I look to Jesus, I find One who totally identifies with the human condition. I see how He could express unimaginable joy. How He could welcome a child, could be the life of the party, could love the unlovable, who was tempted in every way that we are tempted, yet remain unscathed. I see in Him joy unstained and unrestrained.

I see also how He became the victim of acts of barbarity and violence and torture, suffered rejection and betrayal, cried out to a God who He thought had forsaken Him, who in His darkest hour had to sweat blood in order to accept God's will for His life, praying in Gethsemane, 'Let this cup pass from me.” I see One who on the Cross was broken and destroyed by the sin of the world.

In Jesus, the Jesus of the Cross, are focused the extremes of life. It's brightest joy and it's darkest suffering. At the Cross we discover a God who totally identifies with our world, the heights, and depths of the human condition.

2. The Cross reveals a God of awe inspiring, terrible, love

In a previous calling I engaged in chaplaincy at one of Europe's largest Children's hospitals, situated at Alder Hey, in Liverpool, England. I had deep admiration for the staff there. They were subjected to such highs and lows of emotion. To see a child, suffer is a painful thing, yet it is such a tremendous joy to watch a recovery.

But the pain in such situations fell most acutely on the parents of the children. How can anybody enter a parent’s feelings as they observe their child traveling through pain or distress? How can you put into words the helplessness and anxiety involved in having to stand by and watch events take their course, for better or for worse?

Scripture tells us that “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son”

What terrible love is this? Love that permits an only son to suffer and die? If earthly parents feel pain to see their offspring suffer, surely is not that pain also present in the heart of the Father, at the Cross, as the Son of God is crucified?

Can we not hear the tremendous, formidable, terrible, love, which is contained within those simple words, “God so loved... that He gave His … Son”? Where else in life do we discover a love that is revealed with such ferocity and with such intensity?

Love of such tremendous price and cost is surely only offered for a greater reason and higher purpose. Were that not so, such would not be love, but an act of gross, immoral, irresponsibility. The Cross reveals a God of awe inspiring, terrible, love.

3. The Cross reveals a God who is the Savior

Paul states it quite plainly in First Corinthians 15:3  “For what I received I passed on to you as of first importance: that Christ died for our sins.” Here is the reason for that terrible sacrifice. God in Christ comes to redeem us to Himself. On that cross, through that death, the doorway is opened to fellowship with God and the gates of eternity are flung wide open. The way to life, the way to truth, the way of holiness, the way to joy and wholeness.

Here is God, somehow absorbing all that hatred, pain, and suffering that is in the world, and clasping it to Himself, wrapping His arms around all of it and saying to us, “LOOK – MY LOVE IS GREATER THAN ALL OF THIS!”

On the Cross, we see Jesus bearing all the sin and guilt of the world, as the cry comes from His lips. “It is finished”... words that I take not to mean His mission was over, but that the victory of love had taken place. As we allow the love of God to embrace us, we too can discover the victory Christ achieved on the cross.

As we realize that it is sins like ours that caused His pain, then God's love inspires us to turn from our sins and prepare ourselves to know His love burning in our hearts with transforming and renewing power through the activity of the Holy Spirit.

Today is Good Friday. But the end of the story is not the Cross. We must also travel to the empty tomb. After death we read of resurrection, an event which bathes the cross in an even more glorious and victorious light than ever! But we will save that journey till Sunday.

I began by suggesting it was a strange thing that we should make the cross, a place of death, so central to our faith. I believe it's not so strange, when you consider the circumstances of the man who hung there, that here was God incarnate, here is God in Christ revealing awesome love to God's world, aligning Himself with the most god-forsaken places and people, absorbing into His being all the hatred and evil that is in life, and overcoming it by a greater and more powerful love. For me...

•    The Cross reveals a God who totally identifies with the heights and depths of the human condition.
•    The Cross reveals a God of awe inspiring, terrible, love
•    The Cross reveals a God who is the Savior

Allow me to close with words from hymn writer John Bowring. The story behind these words is that he was traveling on a ship when glancing to shore he saw a burnt-out church on the skyline with only the Cross left standing over the charred ruins. The sight inspired him to author a poem that began “In the cross of Christ I glory, towering over the wrecks of time'  

When the sun of bliss is beaming
Light and love upon my way,
From the cross the radiance streaming
Adds more luster to the day.
Bane and blessing, pain, and pleasure,
By the cross are sanctified;
Peace is there that knows no measure,
Joys that through all time abide.
In the cross of Christ I glory,
Towering o’er the wrecks of time;
All the light of sacred story
Gathers round its head sublime.

To God be all praise. Amen.

The Reverend Adrian J Pratt B.D.

PALM/PASSION SUNDAY “Denial and Recovery”

 

Readings: Psalm 118:1-19, Isaiah 50:4-9, Philippians 2:5-11, Luke 22:31-34, 54-60
 Preached at Bridgehampton Presbyterian Church, NY, April 10, 2022

The crowds on Palm Sunday welcome Jesus with cries of welcome. 'Hosanna, Hosanna, Blessed is He'. Yet in under a week those cries have turned to shouts of 'Crucify Him, Crucify Him'. We may put it down to the fickle nature of the crowd, but if we dig deeper, we find within ourselves that we also can betray truths we claim to believe. In none of the disciples is that better exemplified than Peter.

Peter moves from simply denying he ever knew Jesus, through to claiming no relationship with the disciples and eventually to rejecting his personal identity. There would be a recovery for Peter. Such an opportunity is always an open door for each of us. But we must recognize our denials before we can ever move to a place of recovery.

Peter's first denial is of Jesus himself. “A servant girl saw him seated by the firelight. She looked at him closely. “This man was with Him.” But he denied it. “Woman, I don't know Him' he said.” (Luke 22:56-57). This first denial has to do with his personal faith.

There is something telling in Luke's description of the woman looking closely at him as he sat in the light of the fire. Sunday morning faith permits us to make an easy confession. When we are amid the faithful, singing our songs, saying our prayers, shutting the world outside beyond our doors, it is not so hard to say, 'Jesus is Lord.'

But when things start to fall apart, when we get a little too close to the fire, when we are far from home and facing the worst, where then is our confession? When people probe our faith and ask us problematic questions about our beliefs, how do we hold up? We could say to ourselves, 'I do all right, I can stick up for what I believe, I'm confident I can rise to the challenge.'

But that's exactly what Peter said to Jesus, earlier in the day. 'Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you like wheat'. Peter (wondering why Jesus was calling him by the name he had before he came to faith) declares 'Lord, I'm ready to go to prison for you, even to death with you.”

Peter thought he was secure. Hadn't Jesus called him the rock? Hadn't Jesus said that it was upon a faith like his that the church would be built? We may be tempted to think that when it comes to faith, we have enough. We go to church, we read our bibles, we say our prayers, we try and be good people.

Trouble is, if we think we have arrived, if we think we've gone far enough and deep enough, then we are in denial. We are setting ourselves up for a fall. When the time of testing comes, we are going to be found floundering and spluttering and fearful and hurting.

Let us not be in denial about the fragile nature of our faith. Look deeply into yourself, before someone else does it. Let the fire of the Holy Spirit refine your heart before the fire of the world burns your relationship with God. Peter's first denial is very personal. He denies his savior.

The second denial comes in verse 58 “A little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them” Having firstly denied his savior, Peter now denies his relationship to his fellow disciples. He goes from 'I don't know Him' to 'I don't know them.'

I have noticed in my own spiritual walk, that when I have conflicts with my personal faith, they soon spill over into conflicts with my communal faith. That is, if I'm in denial of my need for the personal grace of God to renew my life, I also deny my need for others to help me grow in my faith. I deny my need for community. I believe I can make it alone.

You hear a lot of people say these days, 'I'm spiritual, but I'm not religious'. That often translates into, “I'm going my own way and don't see any need to belong to an organization like the institutional church.”  

I have been around church most of life. And do you know what? It isn’t easy. God goes and calls people to be part of our church communities that aren't the folk we want to hang out with! Think about the disciples. Two sets of brothers. A freedom fighter. John, who seems a bit of a romantic. Thomas, whom we remember because of his doubts. Judas who turns out to be a traitor. What an odd collection of guys!

But it turned out that their faith grew strong because they stayed in community. Their jagged edges refined each other. They had to deal with each other and be accountable to each other. As a church we have meeting in our facilities help groups like Alcoholics Anonymous. The people in those groups understand the power of community to affect the kind of recovery that going it alone cannot do.

I would suggest to you that every person who is truly on a spiritual journey, is a person in recovery. We are sinners who need the salvation grace of Jesus Christ to remold us, reshape us, and renew us. We are all in recovery. And if we think we can do that alone, we are in denial. Peter's second denial is of his connection to the community of the faithful.

I understand that for some folks, particularly our younger folks in school or college, to be seen belonging to a church, can make you seem out of step with some of your friends. Peer pressure is brutal. But I'd encourage you to trust in God to make a way for you to be yourself, without fear of what others may think. If you get the first thing right, your relationship with God, then somehow, your relationship to the church isn't a problem! Peter only denied his friends, after he'd denied his Lord.

Let us move onto that third denial. Luke 22:59 'About an hour later another asserted, “Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.” Peter replied, “Man, I don't know what you're talking about!” Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed.”

This third denial in some ways is the saddest of them all. Peter denies his identity. He was a Galilean, and Galileans were known for their protective nature towards their hometown. This was like a New Yorker, saying, “New York? No. Never bin there. I'm from da South.” Not only would his accent give him away, but it would also be a denial of his roots.

When we are in denial about something it has that effect. We lose ourselves. We forget about our commitments to family, to community, to friends and colleagues. We just want to get away. We want a complete change of identity. But we are who we are. And though we may try and conceal it, others will see through it.

As soon as I am involved in a conversation with somebody I have not met before, it doesn't take them long to ask, 'What sort of accent is that?” I usually try and explain that it's a broadly British, tinged with West Virginian, Long Island dialect... I cannot do anything to change it, and if I tried to hide it, it would still slip out. So, Peter, can't hide where he is from.

We all have those moments, when for some reason or other, we try and pretend that we're something that we're not. Maybe we're trying to fit in. Maybe we're afraid of what somebody will think. It never works. Remember that song, 'Oh yes, He's the great Pretender'? We can all be tempted to play that game.

One of the wonderful things about belonging to the Kingdom of God is that God does not want us to be anybody other than ourselves. God can use everything about us, our background, our talents, our dreams, our peculiarities. If we lay them at God's disposal, they are not a weakness but a strength.

After the rooster crows, we read “The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter.” (verse 61). We don't know what kind of look that was, but it caused Peter, not simply to regret what he had just done, but more importantly, it gave Peter the strength to walk away from his denials and make an amazing recovery.

Earlier at supper Jesus had said to him, “I have prayed for you Simon that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.” (verse 31). Did you hear that? 'When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers”

God can use those times when we are at our worst, our days of ultimate failure, to demonstrate the power of His grace and His love. Peter fails. Miserably. He promises to give it all and ends up denying it all. But he made a recovery. And what a recovery!

•    He recovers his relationship with Jesus. He discovers in a new way the power of Jesus to forgive him and renew him. He becomes one of the first disciples to witness the resurrection. Before his denials, his words came from misplaced pride. Afterward, they came from brokenness and grace, and they become real and powerful.

•    He recovers his relationship to the church. He becomes the first spokesperson on the day of Pentecost, the day the church is born. He becomes one of the key leaders, main preachers, one of the churches greatest prophets.

•    He recovers his identity. He holds his head up high as a citizen of the kingdom of God. He could tell you, 'That's where I'm coming from, that's where I belong, that's where I'm headed. That's who I am.”

Now what's the name of that big fancy church in Rome? That's right. St Peter's. Not a bad recovery for a guy who in our reading says, 'I don't know Jesus, I don't want anything to do with His church, I just want to be somebody else!” An amazing story of denial and recovery.

The crowds on Palm Sunday changed their cries of 'Hosanna' to shouts of 'Crucify Him'. But that wasn't the end of the story. Jesus was crucified. And as He hung on the cross, He prayed for them, 'Father, forgive them, they don't know what they are doing!”

Jesus still makes that prayer for our world and over each one of us. I believe that, even though we can be in denial of His love, He still reaches out to each of us. I believe that if only we can recognize where we fall, the strength offered through His Holy Spirit can pick us up again, restore us and offer us visions of new possibilities and opportunities.

As we reflect this morning on the ability of Jesus to take us, in all our brokenness, and use us for something beautiful, may we be encouraged to place our lives in God's hands. He did it for Peter, who denied that he even knew who Jesus was. His grace and love can do amazing things in us and through us, if we just allow God to be God.

And to God's name be the glory. Amen.

The Reverend Adrian J Pratt B.D.