My husband enjoys telling the story of a time he embarrassed his mother. Not one to be easily flustered, she was used to her son’s theatrics. But even this stalwart woman was not prepared when her seventeen-year-old boy threw himself on the department store floor and thrashed about demanding a toy army helmet. It must have been quite the performance.
Appalled at his behavior and hoping to defuse the scene taking place, his mom snatched the helmet from the shelf and quickly walked away. All the while, my husband snickered at the thrill of causing her such embarrassment.
My grandkids still play with that helmet alongside its original owner. Although I’m thankful to say, said owner’s behavior has matured somewhat throughout the years.
I daresay most of us parents can think of at least a time or two when our children have embarrassed us in front of others. (For the record, I’m blaming my offspring’s undignified moments on their father’s genetics. And I have eyewitness evidence to support it.)
Strange as it may seem, we are not an embarrassment to Jesus. He loves us, quirky and flawed and overly dramatic though we may be.
His gift of salvation flings the doors wide, inviting all who will come and slip between its arches of eternal love. It even beckons those we would rather not have alongside us. Those we deem an embarrassment to our religious establishment.
Let’s be honest about it: Jesus chooses people we would not.
People like me. And even you.
Everyone is welcome. Everyone can find a place of belonging here.
Because God’s love consistently extends to the least of these. The least of us.
When Jesus walked upon the earth, He invited some less than glamorous folks to live up close and personal with Him. His was a group of boisterous misfits, among them, a hated tax collector, a thief, quick-tempered brothers, and a loud-mouthed fisherman named Simon. Rascals, every one.
But in walking alongside Him, they were also overshadowed by His love. Chosen undeniably, but transformed nonetheless. Renamed, all beneath redemption’s heading.
As they leaned in close to Jesus, they learned His ways and changed their own.
Peter, in particular, may have inserted his foot into his mouth on numerous occasions, but sometimes he got things just right.
According to a reference in John 6, after a difficult teaching Jesus shared, many disciples turned away and ceased following after Him. Jesus then addressed those twelve closest to Him, “Do you want to leave too?”
Simon Peter replied, “Lord, to whom would we go? You have the words of eternal life. We believe and know that You are the Holy One of God.”
When confronted with the big questions, Peter responded well.
Another time, when Jesus was praying in private with the twelve, He asked them, “Who do the crowds say I am?”
To which they replied with the word on the street: “Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, that a prophet of old has arisen.”
“But what about you?” asked Jesus. “Who do you say that I am?”
Peter immediately answered, “The Christ of God!”
There was no pause or pondering, no time for doubts or theological debate.
There was simply the truth, spoken with faith.
You are the Christ . . . The Messiah . . . The Anointed One from God . . .
To whom else would we go?
Peter spoke and ultimately lived the truth of his answer. Yes, there were bumps along the way. Struggles, failures, doubt, and denial — these were all a part of his walk with Jesus. Misunderstandings and disappointments, sorrow, and heartache and suffering, but in the end, Peter finished strong.
The bedrock of this faith established the church of Jesus. And still, it stands. Steadfast and immovable, no matter how shaky the world around us.
You are the Christ. Where else would I go?
We are all broken. But it’s the reparations Christ offers that matter most.
How we respond to the mending is paramount to how we live out the rest of our days.
Peter could have allowed his denial of Jesus to get the best of him. He could have resigned himself to being a deserter. He could have forfeited the grace extended through the outstretched arms of the very Savior he turned his back on.
He could have. But I’m thankful he didn’t.
Instead, He accepted the fact that he was not an embarrassment to Jesus.
Friends, we would do well to do the same.
We need not look back at our failures and flounder in our faith because of them. Instead, we can overcome them by embracing and releasing grace.
By letting ourselves be found in the restoration process as we humbly declare, “Where else would I go? You are the Christ.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
FOR REFLECTION
Do you ever feel that you are an embarrassment to God? That no matter what you do, you are sure to disappoint Him? If so, you are in the company of a myriad of men and women of faith. Folks who we would esteem as pillars of the Gospel. Failures, one and all. But all saved through the sacrifice of One.
It is comforting to know that grace extends further than our sin. That there is more power in one drop of the shed blood of Christ than in all the sins of the world compiled together.
The next time you are tempted to believe you have somehow let God down, turn and walk back to Him. Instead of wallowing in your despair and denial, accept the fact that you have faltered. And receive the forgiveness that grants you a clean slate. Move forward confident in Christ’s salvation, determined to honor Him even if you struggle to get it just right.
When past failures come knocking at your door, escort them to the foot of the Cross. And leave them there. Then turn around and follow Him.
After all, Where else would you go?