Peter Did Not Always Preach Like Peter: A Consolation for the Rest of Us

I have spent a chunk of this week thinking about how hard it is to live in community.  We had a justice event on Monday, and while I'm happy to be part of a group that works for justice, I sometimes grow weary that there is still so much justice work left to do.

Aren't we there yet?

My pastor asked me weeks ago if I'd preach the sermon on this past Sunday, and I said yes.  But on Sunday morning, I changed my sermon at the last minute.  I was feeling despair, the kind of despair when I want to get in the car and drive far away.  I was feeling overwhelmed by hurricane repairs (ongoing since 2017, yes still) and work stress.  I felt that others might be feeling that way too.

I talked about Jesus coming to show us how to live in community, and we often glorify that community that Jesus created, along with his ideals.  I talked about the BOLD Justice event and the NPR stories I'd been hearing about the Civil Rights workers, about their struggles and our current struggles.

I talked about how justice work was like living in hurricane country.  We rebuild and we fix and we make things better, even as we realize we might have to do it all again.  I want to believe that the arc of history bends towards justice, and that we can bend it that way--but there are days when I feel despair about that arc being very long.

I talked about Holy Week that will soon be upon us, about how I prefer the resurrection story, when everything has come together and a beautiful beauty is born.

But it's important to stay with the crucifixion a bit longer, to remember that Christian community isn't always perfect--far from it.  The crucifixion shows us a community in ruins:  people run away, people kill themselves because they can't believe that they can be forgiven, people have to witness the horror that happens at a state execution.  If you cannot preach like Peter, remember that Peter did not always preach like Peter.

I encouraged us to remember that God can still work glorious transformations out of ruins like the crucifixion.  Our sacred texts remind us of that promise over and over again.  I ended by reading the second verse of "Lift Every Voice and Sing," which was written in a dark time in the nation's history, when the rights of newly freed slaves were being rolled back and taken away.  It was to remind little children that a better day was coming, if we can just hold on to that vision.