Category Archives: Devotional/Practical

“By This Time You Ought to Be Teachers”: A Critique of Typical Adult Sunday School

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A couple years ago, as I was reading through the book of Hebrews, I stumbled over a verse that forced me to reevaluate some key assumptions I had unquestionably inherited from my Bible church tradition: both the necessity and validity of adult Sunday school classes. The verse? Hebrews 5:12—“ For though by this time you ought to be teachers…” At that point I stopped. I thought about the audience to whom the author was writing. The book of Hebrews was written sometime around A.D. 65. The Jewish church—the probable audience of the book—was founded at about A.D. 35. So the believers addressed in Hebrews had been part of the faith for a maximum of thirty years (many of them less).

Having been believers for twenty to thirty years, the Hebrews ought to have been teachers, not students; experts, not novices; doers, not hearers; mature, not children (Heb. 5:13–14). The decades-old believers were expected to be training the younger believers in the “basic principles of the oracles of God”—the foundational doctrines of the faith contained in Holy Scripture (Heb. 5:12). They were expected to be skilled “in the word of righteousness,” passing on this skill to those who were yet unskilled (5:13). They were to be examples of discernment, able to lead the younger, less mature believers to “distinguish good from evil” (5:14). In short, they were to be the disciple-makers of the church, primarily engaged in teaching, not in learning.

After meditating on that passage, I thought about many Bible-adoring evangelical churches I had attended or visited over the years. Then it hit me. There are classes at my own church in which some of the members literally double the thirty-year mark of the book of Hebrews. Many more have been learners for fifty years, more for forty, plenty for thirty or twenty years. In such Bible-believing churches the function of those older saints is to show up Sunday mornings, plug into an adult Sunday school class, and build on their thirty years of Bible training. The goal of the adult education program is more Bible study with practical application for the believers’ lives—“The Bible as it is for people as they are.” The goal is not to equip those saints to teach younger believers in the church the elementary principles of the faith.

I wonder what the author of Hebrews would say if he were to critically evaluate the Sunday morning program of many of our churches. I wonder if he would say to half our adult classes, “By this time you ought to be teachers. Most of you have been believers for 25-plus years. What’s wrong with you? Will you ever step out of the role of unskilled novice and into the role of mentoring disciple-maker?” The model of church ministry defined in Ephesians 4 is pretty clear: The pastors and teachers of the church (those engaged in teaching and preaching) are to “equip the saints for the work of ministry.” Yet in many of our churches the teaching leads to knowledge and practical application—good things, but not quite ministry work specifically designed for “building up of the body of Christ.” Paul’s instructions to the pastor-teacher, Timothy, was to entrust the beliefs and practices of the church “to faithful men, who will be able to teach others also” (2 Tim. 2:2). Yet in many of our churches the teachers entrust the things of God to men and women who are not always themselves involved in any intentional disciple-making instruction. This isn’t true of everybody, of course. Some believers who grow in the faith do move into disciple-making ministries. But far too many get stuck in the rut of the eternal student, growing fat and sedentary in more and more biblical and doctrinal knowledge used only to enrich their own lives or the lives of their families.

So, what can we do to realign our adult Sunday school classes with a more biblical model of discipleship?

First, consider harmonizing Sunday school classes with the rest of the Sunday morning ministry of the church. Too often adult Sunday school classes become “mini-churches,” mirroring at a smaller scale what goes on in “big church.” They sometimes have mini-worship, mini-offerings, mini-sermons, and mini-prayer time. Then those same mini-church members shuffle on to big church where they get a more generalized version of the same activities. This is called redundancy. We need to rethink the role of the Sunday school in the overall vision and program of the church. If there are things that aren’t being done during Sunday worship, they should be done during Sunday school, and vice versa. The normal Sunday morning worship should include Scripture reading, teaching, and preaching from the pulpit that substantially nourishes the faith of growing believers in the church. This pulpit ministry should be the primary biblical exposition and practical exhortation for all members of the church. If the pulpit is functioning this way, then Sunday school should strive to do something that complements this pulpit ministry, not competes with it.

Second, consider grouping adult Sunday school classes by spiritual maturity, not physical age. The New Testament distinguishes the spiritually mature in Christ from “infants” or “children” in Christ (Eph. 4:14, 15; 1 Cor. 3:1; 13:11; 14:20; Heb. 5:12–14). The young in the faith are to be engaged in “basic training,” learning the fundamentals of the faith, the story of Scripture, and the basics of Christian living. Some of this initial training should occur prior to baptism and admission into membership in a local church; some should occur in the first several years of a believer’s new-found faith. Yet this training should be deliberately geared for the spiritually young, regardless of physical age. After passing through spiritual grade school and graduating from spiritual high school, believers should be headed toward honing their spiritual gifts to engage in a body-building ministry of the church. In other words, after a certain period of time, believers should transition from a mentee role in the church to a mentor role, from student to teacher. Of course, believers will always need intimate fellowship, accountability, and additional training. But at some point early in the Christian life, the maturing believer should be weaned from their dependency on constant instruction, and they should get their spiritual nourishment from the church’s pulpit ministry and from personal Bible reading. In a discipleship model, sixty-year-old Christians have no business being in a “senior adult class” taught by expository teachers unless they are still “children” in the faith who need to learn for the first time Scripture, doctrine, and Christian living.

Third, consider restoring a simple structure of beginners’ classes for new or young believers, ministry training for growing believers, and leadership training for mature believers. Regardless of whether Sunday school classes are divided into age groups, each one should be dedicated to one of these three body-building tasks of the church. 1) Beginners’ classes should be designed for those who have been believers for a short time or who have never formally experienced a “Christianity 101” kind of instruction. The emphasis of such classes should be rudimentary biblical content, essential doctrines of the Christian faith, and basic Christian living. Members of this class should typically be in the process of preparation for baptism or church membership. 2) New believers or newly-initiated members of the church should graduate to ministry training courses, regardless of their physical age. These classes should equip church members for evangelism, discipleship of believers younger than them in the faith (i.e., assisting in the classes under category 1), or participation in outreach or other ministries of the church. This training should involve not only biblical and theological truth, but also practical ministry experience—hearing and doing. 3) After many years of demonstrating faithful service in the ministry of the church, mature believers should be selected for leadership training—first as deacons, then as elders. Such training may involve formal education at an accessible Bible college or seminary, but it can also involve a specialized training program in the local church itself. Such preparation should include broad and deep biblical knowledge, systematic theology, church history, leadership skills, and training in teaching and preaching. Those in the early phases of this process would serve the church in the office of “deacon.” This process may take five to ten years, and only after such leadership training and service should believers submit to an ordination examination and appointment as pastors or “elders” of a local church.

Fourth, consider including short-term “elective” classes to meet special needs in the congregation. The changes suggested above in no way hinder a church from periodically or regularly offering special classes, conferences, or seminars dealing with biblical, doctrinal, historical, or practical issues. In fact, one should expect that such supplementary programs should be part of the normal teaching of the church. Marriage conferences, financial seminars, “refresher” courses on Bible doctrine, a series on church history, parenting classes, divorce recovery groups, a young married class—all of these can be offered on a short-term basis and taught or facilitated by members of the church involved in ministry training described above (category 2).

The author of Hebrews castigated his readers who had been believers for twenty-plus years because by that time they should have been teachers (Heb. 5:12). I’m concerned that many of our Bible-believing churches have failed to graduate their long-time believers from the status of student to that of teacher. Instead, they have institutionalized a model of adult Sunday school designed to perpetuate a nursery of needy spiritual children without transitioning them into responsible, mature, and productive spiritual adults. If we consider the four suggestions above, our churches will begin to reflect the biblical emphasis on discipleship rather than the cultural emphasis on personal enrichment.

[Originally posted at www.retrochristianity.com March 24, 2012.]

 

Thinking About Leaving Your Local Church? Think Again…

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In our fast-food culture of leased cars and changing telephone companies, many local churches have not fared well. Church shopping, hopping, and dropping have become normal—so normal that many people reading this probably haven’t thought very much about it. Certainly, this cavalier attitude toward local church membership is common among evangelicals today. But have we paused to consider whether it’s biblical?

Some get bored and wander off to a more exciting church. Some get angry and stomp off, taking several members with them. Some change their minds about a particular doctrinal issue and realign themselves with a church that seems purer. Some people are just in a rut of discontent, staying for a few months or years then straying on to something, well, new. But when we contrast this modern epidemic of forsaking our membership in a local church with the two positive and two negative biblical examples of leaving church and the long history of church commitment, we probably ought to re-think this issue.

First, on the positive side, Christians in the Bible changed churches because of physical relocation. In Acts 18 Aquila and Priscilla changed from one local church to another when they moved to a new city. Second, people left churches for ministry opportunities. Ministers and missionaries departed local churches to serve elsewhere—always with the blessing of the sending churches (Acts 10:23; 15:40; 2 Cor. 8:16–18). On the negative side, the New Testament presents examples of people leaving the church because of discipline (Matt. 18:15–17; 1 Cor. 5:11–13), always with the hope that the disciplined believer would repent and return to fellowship. Also, false teachers and heretics left in apostasy, departing in willful rebellion and often taking followers with them (1 John 2:18–19). [Some have pointed to the surprising skirmish between Paul and Barnabas in Acts 15:37–40 as an example of separation due to differing ministry strategies. But this incident had nothing to do with leaving a local church—both departed from Antioch with the church’s blessing. And besides, this text described an unfortunate event; it did not prescribe how to handle conflict.]

Relocation . . . ministry . . . discipline . . . apostasy.

These four biblical examples—two positive, two negative—are legitimate departures from local congregations and serve not to weaken, but to strengthen, both the local church and the universal body of Christ. And these examples make one thing clear: the common reasons Christians give for forsaking their covenant with a local church just don’t measure up. If believers take the Bible as the guide and love as the rule, they should never simply stomp out of their churches in anger or slip quietly out the back door.

Of course, we can’t assume that the Bible covers every legitimate reason for leaving a church. Sometimes churches become so corrupt or doctrinally impure that the marks of a true or healthy church are lost. Other times God may want certain believers in certain places to accomplish certain things. However, we must always remember that local church commitment is necessary for spiritual growth (Heb. 10:24–25; Eph. 4:4–16). And we must recall that we entered into church membership as a covenant relationship—as serious as marriage. If we keep these facts in mind, we’ll have the right heart for considering a godly decision about whether or not to leave, and how to do it appropriately.

Some practical principles can point us in the right direction as we consider God’s mind about leaving church.

First, communicate and seek counsel. Discuss your options with the church leadership. Ask trusted Christian friends or mentors whether your reasons for leaving are legitimate. The issues leading you out of the church likely can be resolved—to the benefit of everyone. Perhaps your confidants will help you discover that the Lord is, in fact, leading you to another ministry elsewhere. However, simply stomping off in a huff is rude and immature. And keeping your real reasons for leaving a secret is usually a sign that your conscience isn’t clear.

Second, be prudent and discerning. Don’t make an emotional or quick decision. Just as in natural families, people hurt people in churches. You can count on it. But my reaction to a harsh word or other offense reveals as much about my own spiritual immaturity as it does about the immaturity of the offender. Don’t make a decision based on anger, fear, resentment, or pain, but on the principles of God’s Word. And don’t turn everything into a “doctrinal issue.” Everybody disagrees on some interpretations of Scripture, but not every doctrinal disagreement is worth rushing for the door. In fact, I can count the absolutely essential marks of orthodoxy on two hands; if your list of “fundamentals” is much longer, you may have slipped into exaggerated dogmatism. Keep your eye on the center—the gospel of Jesus Christ— and show grace in the dozens of disputable matters.

Finally, seek God’s will. Even though God wants us to be faithful to our local churches and to contribute positively to its ministry, we can’t limit God’s direction in our lives. Though my tone may sound absolute, the truth is that occasionally God may want people elsewhere for his own purposes. However, we must still make transitions cautiously—communicating with leadership, exercising prudence, and seeking counsel. To hop from church to church without earnestly (and honestly) seeking the Lord’s will in the matter shows contempt for the temple he loves and can even result in discipline from God (1 Cor. 3:16–17).

In light of God’s high view of local church commitment and the clear teaching of Scripture (Heb. 10:24–25; Eph. 4:4–16), we should prayerfully consider each decision we make regarding our local churches—from membership and attendance to our level of involvement and decisions regarding departure. If we seek to honor him and demonstrate genuine love for our brothers and sisters in Christ, the Lord will guide us in wise, prudent, and godly decisions regarding our involvement in the local church.

So, are you thinking about leaving church? Think again.

 

[This essay is excerpted from chapter 7 of RetroChristianity: Reclaiming the Forgotten Faith (Wheaton: Crossway, 2012). © Michael J. Svigel, 2012. Originally posted March 18, 2012 at www.retrochristianity.com]

Living Easter: Bringing the Resurrection to Life

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Lying in bed, fourteen-year-old Lena slipped closer to death with each strained breath. Her vexed father, Martin, paced the room, wanting desperately to hold onto her, to watch her grow into the woman he always believed God intended her to be.

But eventually that doting father had to give in to reality. Death was about to claim his sweet daughter. Folding his trembling hands, the prayer he had been fighting fell reluctantly from his quivering lips: “Dear God, you know I love her so much . . . but if you’re going to take her from me, then . . . thy will be done.”

When his Lena appeared to be drawing her last feeble breath, the great Reformer Martin Luther—whose preaching had felled Emperors and Popes—fell to his knees beside his daughter’s bed. Weeping bitterly, he cried out, “God, please save her!”

Moments later, Lena was dead.

The anguish of death can drive a person mad with doubt and depression—especially the death of a seemingly innocent and undeserving child. But all of us who have held a loved one as their breathing slowed, their complexion waned, and their pulse ceased, can testify to the fierce indifference of that ugly monster, death.

Yet death isn’t limited to the death bed. When Adam sinned, the curse brought much more than simply the cessation of physical life. It brought shame, anxiety, frustration, disaster, and sin. Death seeks to expand its domain through physical and emotional suffering, broken relationships, and all forms of ugliness and evil. You don’t need to suffer the loss of a loved one to be pierced by the sting of death. Are you fearful about the future? Battling with sin? Struggling with a chronic disease? That’s the harsh reality of death.

But nearly two thousand years ago, in the midst of death’s darkness, the light of life began to shine. Having lived a perfect life, on Good Friday Jesus Christ suffered a brutal death for the sins of the world. But on Sunday morning the earth shook, the stone covering the tomb was rolled away, and the Son of God stepped forth victorious. This time the light of life didn’t merely shine in the darkness—He conquered it forever!

Now, although we Christians wholeheartedly believe “He is risen,” many of us have no idea what that means for us in this life. It’s one thing to confess that He conquered death. It’s quite another to live like it when the pain, suffering, and evil of this world crouch at our doors. So how do we live the truth of Easter Sunday when our lives feel more like Good Friday? To help answer this question, let me share what living Easter means to me.

First, living Easter means remembering that though we were dead, we’re now alive. Paul wrote, “Even when we were dead in our transgressions, [God] made us alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:5). Before God’s life-giving Spirit made us alive, we were spiritually dead. But those of us who have been born again by grace through faith in Jesus Christ have been spiritually resurrected to eternal life (1 John 5:11–13). Our spiritual resurrection, wrought solely by the grace and mercy of God, erased our sin and made us living children of God. Without this new birth—made possible solely by Christ’s death and resurrection—we would never have believed the gospel of eternal life.

Second, living Easter means we can stop dying and start living. In connection with our new birth, the Spirit of the resurrection has come to dwell within us (Romans 8:11). Yet if this is true, why do so many Christians walk around with an attitude of death and defeat in the face of temptation and sin? We’re called not to simply celebrate Easter once a year, but to live Easter every day. Dwelling in sin is dwelling in death. Are you enslaved to shameful secret sins . . . or constantly falling to temptation? Remind yourself now that not only has God forgiven all your sins, but you have died to sin . . . and by the resurrection Spirit you can conquer it (Romans 6:6–7; 8:11-13). But you may say, “I know all that, but I just keep struggling with sin!” I say—“That’s great! Keep struggling!” You see, only when you give up the struggle do you surrender to the domain of death. As wretched and desperate as the battle with sin becomes, never surrender.

Finally, living Easter means that even after we die, we’ll live again. Though our modern culture has sought to institutionalize and sterilize death, we’re all eventually forced to face it. Maybe it’s through the loss of a spouse, a parent, or a child. Perhaps it’s a terminal illness or the aches and pains of aging. With each passing day, the reflection in the mirror reminds us that we’re drawing closer to death. Yet in the midst of this reality, hope shines! Christ’s resurrection and our union with Him guarantees that our bodies will one day be resurrected and glorified (1 Thessalonians 4:13–14; 1 Corinthians 15:35–57). Are you afraid of dying? Are you mourning the loss of a loved one? Remember that one day soon, all those who died in Christ will be made alive!

As his daughter’s body lay in the wooden coffin, Martin Luther looked intently into her pale face and spoke gently, “Oh, my darling Lena, you’ll live again and shine like a star. Yes—like the sun.”

Minutes later, when the lid of the coffin was being hammered shut, Luther cried out above the deafening racket: “Hammer away! On Resurrection Day she’ll rise again!”

[Originally posted April 7, 2012 at www.retrochristianity.com. This essay was adapted from Michael J. Svigel and Suzanne Keffer, “This Should Be Me,” Insights (March 2005): 1-2. Copyright © 2005 by Insight for Living. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.]

“This Should Be Me”: Christ, Our Passover

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The sound of bleating lambs and shuffling footsteps filled the temple. With three trumpet blasts, the priests announced the start of the Passover sacrifices. Worshipers responded to the priests’ psalms with “Hallelujahs” as each man offered his household’s sacrifice to God. As the disciple John raised the knife to the throat of the lamb he’d brought, he thought, “This should be me.” With one quick motion of his hand, the lamb’s bleating stopped, and John watched its blood drain into the bowl held by the priest. The priest emptied the bowl at the base of the altar, adding to the smell of blood that hung in the air.

Christ’s Final Passover

Why did a lamb have to be sacrificed on Passover? The Jewish feast was meant to remember and retell the story of Israel’s Exodus from Egypt. The lamb sacrificed that afternoon became the main course of the Passover meal, representing the price paid for the protection of Israel and their redemption from Egypt. God had “passed over” the homes of those Hebrews who had applied the lamb’s blood to their doorways (Exod. 12:12-27). With the lamb, the Jews also ate unleavened bread and bitter herbs, recalling the agony of bondage in Egypt and the food God provided for the Israelites during the Exodus (12:39). By partaking of the sacrificed lamb, the Hebrews not only remembered, they also retold the Passover story to others.

Yet on the night John partook of the Passover lamb with Jesus and the other disciples, things changed. Although Jewish custom prohibited eating anything after the Passover meal, Jesus broke sharply with tradition. He took bread, gave thanks, and said to His disciples, “Take and eat. This is My body” (see Mark 14:22). John partook with the rest, then Jesus took up the third of four cups of wine traditionally drunk at the Passover, the “cup of redemption.” To John’s surprise, their Rabbi said, “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many” (14:24). The traditional fourth cup—the “cup of consummation”—remained untouched. Jesus explained, “I will never again drink of the fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new in the kingdom of God” (14:25).

In remembering and retelling the Hebrew Passover, Christ followed the requirements of the law, but He transformed and fulfilled the meaning of the lamb, the bread, and the wine. However, one thing remained the same: the need for a substitute as a sacrifice in place of the guilty sinner.

Christ Our Passover

The following day Jesus was brutalized and executed on a Roman cross. To those who watched, the murder seemed senseless, but from God’s perspective it completely paid the cost of redemption. Isaiah had prophesied that, like a lamb led to the slaughter, the Messiah would be pierced for our transgressions, and the punishment due us would fall upon Him (Isa. 53:5-7). Paul said that Christ Himself is the Passover lamb, sacrificed for our sins (1 Cor. 5:7). All who consider the sufferings of Jesus should be haunted by these four words: “This should be me.”

The Bible says that all have sinned and deserve one punishment: death. The blood, gore, stench, and wails of the animal sacrifices reminded Old Testament Israelites daily of the wages of sin and cost of redemption. But Paul told us the good news that comes through Christ, the sacrificial Passover Lamb who died to forgive all of our sins: “For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Rom. 6:23).

Making Christ Your Passover

In the Old Testament remembering meant more than just thinking; it meant responding with specific actions. During this Easter season, how will you remember and retell Christ’s Passover story?

Perhaps your church has a special service of remembrance, partaking of the Lord’s Supper or retelling the story of Good Friday and Easter through music or drama. Maybe you have a special family tradition that centers on Christ and His final payment for sin as the spotless Lamb of God. There are many great opportunities for you to remember and retell the story through Scripture and discussion on specific days of Easter week.

Like the Hebrews during Passover, your own tangible expression of remembrance and retelling will focus your heart away from kitschy Easter eggs and pastel bunnies toward the cleansing blood of the Lamb, “for Christ our Passover . . . has been sacrificed” (1 Cor. 5:7). This year, center your thoughts and actions on the true meaning of the Hebrew Passover, applying the blood of Christ to the doorposts of your life with the proper attitude: “This should be me.”

 

[Originally posted April 5, 2012 at www.retrochristianity.com. This essay adapted from Michael J. Svigel and Suzanne Keffer, “This Should Be Me,” Insights (March 2005): 1-2. Copyright © 2005 by Insight for Living. All rights reserved worldwide. Used by permission.]

Dialogue of Peter and Boso on the Night of Christ’s Arrest (Part 2 of 2)

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ArrestofJesus2[Author's note: The following fictional "dialogue" between the apostle Peter and his interlocutor, Boso, concerns events leading up to and including the betrayal and arrest of Jesus on Thursday of Passion Week. For the setting, I imagine a recorded interview or informal deposition taking place in the modern day as Peter reflects back on his own perspective of events. Several gaps in the biblical story have been filled in with plausible explanations or outright speculations. I do not allege that my creative additions have any basis in demonstrable history.]

BOSO: Now go back to the garden that night of his arrest.

PETER: Okay.

BOSO: What did Jesus do after he asked you to watch and pray?

PETER: He wandered into the olive trees and began weeping, and throwing himself on the ground, and begging God to save him.

BOSO: What was he saying, exactly?

PETER: Well, we caught snippets of it. He wasn’t too far off, and we were originally trying to pray, but he was causing such noise that it was hard for us to do it. He was saying things like, “Abba!”… that means “Papa”… “You can do anything. Take this cup away from me. But let it be done the way you want, not the way I want.”

BOSO: And what were you praying?

PETER: Well, I started praying for him. I was concerned about him. He was convulsing, and shivering, and pounding on the ground. I just wanted him to have some peace. So I kept praying, “God, have mercy on him. Have mercy.” Then I fell asleep.

BOSO: You fell asleep?

PETER: We all did. James and John, too. James was actually snoring. Then Jesus crawled over to us and shook us awake. He was sweating like crazy. And it was cold out that night. A chill wind had blown down from the mountain. He didn’t look like himself. He looked like he had been rained on. I thought he had dipped his head in the cistern nearby. But it was sweat.

BOSO: What did he say to you?

PETER: He said, “Simon, why are you sleeping? Couldn’t you watch for even an hour with me? Keep watching. Keep praying. It’s the only way to keep you from stumbling. You have a willing spirit, but your flesh is weak.” So I tried to wake myself up and keep praying.

BOSO: Did Jesus go back to pray?

PETER: Yes. And I prayed, too, for a little while. But for some reason we were just exhausted. And I fell asleep again. I just couldn’t stay awake. Jesus shook me on the shoulder again and asked me to keep praying. I didn’t say anything. I just slapped myself in the face a few times and tried to wake up. But it didn’t work.

BOSO: You fell asleep again?

PETER: James and John, too. In fact, I don’t even think John woke up the second time Jesus came. He just moaned and stirred. I think he even said “Amen.”

BOSO: Then what?

PETER: The next time I woke up from a clank at the garden gate. I heard some voices through the trees and Jesus was kneeling beside us. He had a new look on his face. He was at peace. Something changed. He even smiled just a little at me. And I think he had tears in his eyes. He shook his head and said to us, “Are you still sleeping and resting? It’s over. Time’s up.” He pointed toward the commotion and started getting up onto his feet. And he said, “Look, the Son of Man is being betrayed into the hands of sinners.” I wasn’t sure what was going on. I was still trying to clear my head. I rubbed my eyes and felt for my sword. Then he said, “Come on, get up. Time to go. Look. The one betraying me just showed up.”

BOSO: Who was he referring to?

PETER: Judas Iscariot. He had led the temple guards to the garden. You have to realize that the Mount of Olives had a bunch of walled gardens, back to back, side by side. The authorities knew Jesus and his disciples would often retreat there, but they had no way of knowing which garden we were in. And even if they figured it out, they couldn’t get through the gate. It was private property and without Roman permission the temple guards couldn’t just barge in on somebody’s locked garden. So Judas not only led them to the right garden, he also got the gate-keeper to open the gate from the inside and let him in. You see, they all knew us, so Judas’s face would have been familiar. I suppose the one who opened the gate thought Judas was just arriving late.

BOSO: Do you know who it was that let Judas into the garden that night?

PETER: Yes. It was John Mark, the son of Mary of Cyrene, the woman who owned the garden. Like I said earlier, Mark had been staying on the property that night in one of the servant’s quarters to make room for Passover guests at their home in the city. The olive garden was mostly his responsibility anyway. But he had been roused from his sleep and was visiting with the eight disciples near the gate when Judas came calling. He didn’t know Judas had brought soldiers until Judas already entered the garden. Poor Mark. He was still in his night clothes when Judas showed up.

BOSO: Then what happened?

PETER: Well, I followed behind Jesus. I was off to his right. James was on his left. And John was still wiping sleep from his eyes behind us. I saw Judas burst through the gate and head straight for Jesus. He kissed him on the cheek and said, “Rabbi!” As if he had been searching all over for him. Well, by this time soldiers had already started filing in through the gate. Judas sort of jumped back and acted, well, kind of like he was surprised to see soldiers there. He said, “What? Who?” And he stuck his hand out and opened his mouth like he was going to tell them to leave. Little Mark sort of backed behind a tree near the entrance. He wasn’t dressed for this. And the other disciples all stood up and started retreating back toward us.

BOSO: What did Jesus do? Did he try to escape?

PETER: No. At first he just ignored the soldiers and looked straight at Judas and shook his head. He said, “Oh, Judas. Is this how you betray me? With a kiss?” Of course, Judas acted offended. He put his hand on his chest and shook his head, as if Jesus was jumping to the wrong conclusion. As if the crowd just happened to follow Judas here. But Jesus just raised his hand and said, “Friend, you’ve come to do something. Just do it.”

BOSO: Then?

PETER: Then a couple soldiers with swords passed around Judas and headed for Jesus. They actually had ropes to bind him. Swords, ropes, and clubs. They obviously didn’t know Jesus. Then Jesus said, “Whom are you seeking?” One of the soldiers said, “Jesus the Nazarene.” They were quite close now. And Jesus said, “I am he.” And he reached out his hands to be bound!

BOSO: He offered himself up to be arrested?

PETER: Well, yes. But the soldiers thought he was pulling out a sword or something, because when he reached out his hands to surrender, they jumped back, startled. He tripped on the other soldier and by now so many had bunched up behind them that several actually fell backward onto the ground! A couple of the disciples laughed. But Judas helped the first soldier up.

BOSO: What were you doing at this time?

PETER: Well, I kept looking for a chance to strike. And this confusion seemed to offer me one. From behind me I heard John whisper, “Peter! Do something!” So just as the soldiers neared us, I said, “Lord, I have my sword…” But Jesus interrupted me and said to the soldiers who were getting up from the ground, “Whom do you seek?” They answered, “I told you already, Jesus of Nazareth.” And Jesus said, “And I told you I’m the one you’re looking for. I offered you my hands in peaceful surrender, but you’re coming at me with so many sticks and clubs and swords you can’t even walk without tripping on yourselves. Here I am. Take me. Only let these men go their way.”

BOSO: So you were just standing there?

PETER: Yeah. But the closer Jesus got to turning himself in, the worse I felt about it. So I assumed Jesus was just trying to stall. To give me a chance to strike. And while one of the High Priest’s men was nearby, peering past me deeper into the garden to see just how many men there were lurking in the dark, I realized I had to do something right away or nothing at all. Soldiers were still coming in through the narrow gate. I glanced over and saw at least six or seven of them already. Within a few seconds there would be too many for us to overcome and drive out of the garden. So I just acted. Impulsively.

BOSO: What did you do?

PETER: I whipped out my sword and swung it at the servant. I aimed for his neck… a death blow. But I’ve never been great with a sword. He turned away at the last second to dodge my swing and I sliced his ear off. His right ear. This one here. He shrieked. Definitely wasn’t expecting that. The soldiers suddenly pulled their swords and jumped back. The other disciples all turned to see what was happening. His ear just dangled there by the lobe. Judas actually caught him from falling and guards coming to arrest Jesus stopped in their tracks. But it worked. The guard coming through the gate stopped. The others behind him started mumbling. I shouted across the crowd, “Mark, close the gate!”

BOSO: So you were trying to take control?

PETER: It made the most sense. Somebody had to. Jesus was backing down. Surrendering! I took my place in front of Jesus and held the sword up above my chest with both hands. And then I heard Jesus’s voice in my ear behind me. As the soldiers inched closer, Jesus said, “Stop this, Peter. Put your sword away. You know better than this. If you live by the sword, you’ll die by the sword.”

BOSO: What did you do?

PETER: Nothing at first. I said, “But I told you before, I’ll fight and die for you.” But Jesus touched my forearm to lower the weapon and he whispered into my ear as he passed by me: “Don’t you know that I could call twelve legions of angels from heaven to wipe these men out? But everything in Scripture will be fulfilled.” So I lowered my sword and watched Jesus walk over to the temple servant, pass his hands over the side of his head, and re-attach the man’s ear. The bleeding stopped, no scar, nothing. He healed the man’s ear that I had lopped off.

BOSO: And what did you do?

PETER: I dropped my sword and ran. Ran. Immediately Jesus stepped forward again, his hands out in surrender.