Peter was, without question, the most prominent of the twelve. And also, the most enigmatic. I know that you’ve received letters about Peter before, actually several times. And I hope that this letter to you is not redundant. You can be the judge of that, but I must say that Peter is so very interesting, that I felt the need to write about him again. Why, you ask? Well, read on and see what you think!

Now before the festival of the Passover, Jesus knew that his hour had come to depart from this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The devil had already decided that Judas son of Simon Iscariot would betray Jesus. And during supper Jesus, knowing that the Father had given all things into his hands and that he had come from God and was going to God, got up from supper, took off his outer robe, and tied a towel around himself. Then he poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet and to wipe them with the towel that was tied around him.

The Passover, one of our oldest traditions, was always meant to be celebrated with great joy. Why? Because it commemorates God’s defining act in freeing the Children of Israel from slavery in Egypt. And our joy in this festival has never dimmed, even over many hundreds of years. It is at the heart of our faith, and especially the Passover meal, called the Seder. No Jewish tradition is more important and none is more joyous than Passover. Year after year, we look forward to it with great anticipation.

But not this one. Not this time. Not for us.

I am writing this to you, in your century, to warn you about the Lord’s Supper. You see, my hope is that we might share this memory of Jesus with you across all of the centuries that separate us. But yes, I need to warn you, hoping that you will not dishonor the words of Jesus just as we did only hours ago.

Then Jesus cried again with a loud voice and breathed his last. At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two, from top to bottom. The earth shook, and the rocks were split. The tombs also were opened, and many bodies of the saints who had fallen asleep were raised. After his resurrection they came out of the tombs and entered the holy city and appeared to many. 

The day was dawning under heavy clouds, portending a storm on the lake.  We fishermen, with our nose for the weather, could feel it coming.  So, we stayed close to shore, huddled in the boat, ready to dash to safety.  

I waited for him in the dimly lit cell. Slowly, he was lowered, bound with ropes, through the small hole, into the confined space where I stood. The cell had no doors or windows, so no possibility of escape. The only way in or out was through the opening through which he was now passing.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

Oh, sometimes it causes me to tremble, tremble.

Were you there when they crucified my Lord?

You don’t know rejection. You may think you do. And of course, none of us lives for very long without experiencing some amount of it. But I am here to tell you that you don’t really know rejection as Jesus did. Not even close.

Now on that same day two of them were going to a village called Emmaus, about seven miles from Jerusalem, and talking with each other about all these things that had happened. While they were talking and discussing, Jesus himself came near and went with them, but their eyes were kept from recognizing him. And he said to them, “What are you discussing with each other while you walk along?”

I’m an old man now. And like old men everywhere, I spend a lot of time reflecting. Reflecting on events that I have witnessed, reflecting on people I have known, and reflecting on my own life and what it all means. I hope my reflections are honest.

Then Jesus entered the temple and drove out all who were selling and buying in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money changers and the seats of those who sold doves. He said to them, “It is written, ‘My house shall be called a house of prayer,’ but you are making it a den of robbers.”

As I write this to you, the rabbi Jesus is being crucified. And I should be there. Yes, I should, but I am not. Am I too busy? Too occupied with important matters? Needed somewhere away for an emergency?

No, none of those. If I am completely honest with myself, I will admit that I am not there because I am afraid.

You know me. I appear in all four of the Gospels in your Bible. For a time, you may recall, I was thought to be a prostitute, saved by Jesus. Well, in truth, I was saved by Jesus, freed by his healing power from forces attacking me; but I was not a prostitute. In fact, I was a respectable woman who followed Jesus and who, along with others, gave financial support to his ministry. 

When his daughter Herodias came in and danced, she pleased Herod and his guests, and the king said to the girl, “Ask me for whatever you wish, and I will give it.” And he swore to her, “Whatever you ask me, I will give you, even half of my kingdom.” She went out and said to her mother, “What should I ask for?” She replied, “The head of John the baptizer.” Immediately she rushed back to the king and requested, “I want you to give me at once the head of John the Baptist on a platter.”

“Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.  Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”

When Jesus told us of the Holy Spirit, my brother apostles and I were not impressed. More than that, we were confused and frankly, disappointed. After all, we had been with Jesus for three years.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.” A second time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” He said to him, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.” He said to him the third time, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.” Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a father’s only son, full of grace and truth. (John 1)

Please don’t call me a “doubter.” If you must call me anything at all, I prefer that you call me “a practical thinker.” This doubting thing, you see, has gone on far too long and you must help to dispel that image of me.