Jesus said, “Don’t let your hearts be troubled. Believe in God; believe also in me.” Monologue in ‘From Peter’s Perspective’…”I pray that they may grow in faith, rather than be suffocated by the anxieties of this life.” Produced for use on the Fifth Sunday of Easter.

I keep thinking back to that conversation when Jesus forgave me and told me to care for the other disciples. I remember the sting of the salt on my face as I wiped my eyes dry. I remember the sense of peace that came with knowing everything was settled, and that surge of tiredness as I let go of my guilt. I remember feeling assured that from that point, Jesus was going to strengthen me. At the same time, I felt a sense of fear – fear of the Lord – as I realised how Jesus had made me responsible for the others. I must not fail.

Until now, I have not been able to take in the rest of what Jesus said. I do remember Him saying that whilst today I am in control of my own destiny, this would change in the future. He said that there would come a time when I would have to stretch out my hands, and that someone else would lead me to where I would not want to go. I am still not quite sure what he meant by that. I shudder at the memory of what Jesus battered body looked like, and the rope burns on his wrists. Does Jesus mean that one day, I will face death just as He did? If so, it does not bear thinking about.

If you had asked me a week ago, I would have said the resurrection is the only thing that defines us. People remember the Essenes because they commit to a life of poverty. People remember the Pharisees for their commitment to the law. People remember the Sadducees for their commitment to the Temple. Meanwhile, we are becoming known as the Christ followers who insist that their leader is not dead. A week ago, still basking in the glory of it all, I would have defined us as the people of the resurrection. Now I am not so sure. You see, the resurrection is only half the story. We cannot celebrate the resurrection without acknowledging that Jesus went through the death. He lived our life, died our death, and bore our griefs. Death and resurrection belong together. At first, this might seem morbid. But this is what has given me comfort as I have questioned what the future holds. If I am killed, I like Jesus will be resurrected. I simply pray that my death is not torturous. If I am taken, I pray that I will be taken quickly. But I do not fear death. None of us does.

Jesus spoke freely and often about the fact that he would be put to death. As I look back I feel humbled – ashamed even – about how we responded, especially when I compare this to the confidence that we have now. The resurrection has secured our faith. I remember when Jesus told us that one day he would have to leave us. ‘Don’t let your hearts be troubled’, He said, ‘Believe in God; believe also in me.’ We lost all sense of proportion. I remember Jesus saying something about His going to heaven and preparing a place for us, and that we would know the way to the place where he was going. But His words made no sense. Thomas became exasperated with Jesus, ‘Lord we do not know where you are going, how can we know the way!’ And then Philip challenged him. He said something like, ‘We’ll believe you when we see this Father in heaven that you keep referring to. Show us the Father!’ Then Jesus berated Philip for his lack of belief. In Jesus mind, Philip had seen enough. How much more did Jesus need to say? How many more miracles did Philip need to see? Meanwhile, I was confused and holding my head in my hands.

I understood where Thomas and Philip were coming from. Until then, we took much of what Jesus said as figurative. He spoke in parables all the time. It was one of the ways in which he used to avoid conflict. Don’t misunderstand me. Jesus was never afraid to confront people – it was simply that if He did so, it would be on his terms. Jesus was a master at speaking in parables, saying enough to allow people to find the truth for themselves, but not so much that he would be arrested. So, often, after Jesus had spoken, we would discuss amongst ourselves whether we thought Jesus meant us to understand Him literally. I remember, on one occasion in the early days, when Jesus declared that he would suffer, be put to death, and then be raised after three days, how I became indignant. I thought he was talking nonsense but he scolded me. ‘Get Behind me Satan’ he said. That put me back in my place.

As we journeyed with Jesus it was easy to accept that he had power over the underworld and all the raging spirits that wreak havoc on us – we had witnessed him calling on God to calm the storm on Galilee. It was easy to accept that God through Jesus could bring healing – we had seen so many healings that we had lost count. It was easy to see that God through Jesus could meet our needs – we had seen him feed five thousand. But we were still unsure, especially when Jesus spoke of his own death, about whether Jesus meant us to understand him literally. It was not until we saw Jesus raise Lazarus from the dead that we began to think this. When we saw how the authorities responded to Him in Jerusalem, the sense of foreboding began to penetrate even deeper. By the time that Mary anointed Jesus’ feet with burial oil, things had become overwhelming. And so, at the beginning of Passover, when Jesus spoke about his dying again, we were all in a very different frame of mind. He said, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a grain of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds. Anyone who loves their life will lose it, while anyone who hates their life in this world will keep it for eternal life.’

We were beside ourselves. Whilst we accepted that by God’s power, Jesus could raise the dead, the fact that he would not just die, but be executed, seemed to go against all the good that God was doing. And we also began to think about what we stood to lose. Who would lead us? What would become of us? We who had given up so much to follow Jesus? So Jesus’ words of reassurance seemed hollow. As far as Thomas saw it, Jesus had no plan. Philip, ever the practical one, agreed.

I am unconvinced that anyone accepted Jesus’ assurances or his promise that those who believed in Him would do even greater things. That is why I feel so humbled. The resurrection exposed our unbelief. Now we have seen the proof with our own eyes, trusting Jesus is easy. Whilst we might face uncertainties, God has everything in hand. But I pray for those who will, in future, hear those same promises of God, I pray that they will accept what God has to say as a matter of faith. I pray that they will question less than we did. I pray that they will be able to let go of that desire to be in control or to know more than they need to know. I pray this not because this limits God in some way. I pray this so that they will save themselves the grief and panic that we felt. I pray this so that they may grow in faith, rather than be suffocated by the anxieties of this life. And as for us, if death is indeed around the corner, we will not be distracted because we rest secure in the knowledge that death is not the end. Whilst we long for Jesus to be with us, we know that he is present in a different way. We are still receiving reports of how he is appearing to others. We know that he will return, but meanwhile, God is moving so powerfully that we have little time to sit and contemplate.

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