The Wrong Place, The Wrong Time

John 18:10  Then Simon Peter drew a sword and slashed off the right ear of Malchus, the high priest’s slave.

It is pitch dark out here. Jesus has gone off to pray and we are all fighting sleep. I still can’t believe he said I would deny him. Me, deny Jesus? I’ll die first.

Suddenly, there is a ruckus to our left and the dark of the night is lit up by torches. Soldiers are here! And that traitor Judas is with them! Quite frankly, I lost it. Here was my chance to prove to Jesus what I was made of. I took my sword and tried to kill Malchus. I must have slipped or something, because instead of cutting off his head, I just lopped off his ear. So close!

The soldiers take Jesus away after he tells them to leave us alone. Alone! I am definitely feeling alone…

I follow from afar, eventually finding myself at a fire pit in the courtyard. There, I am confronted by a little girl and two others who ask if I am a follower of Jesus. I angrily deny that I even knew the man. After the third denial, a rooster crowed.

That’s when it hit me: I did just what Jesus said I would do. I had a chance to make a stand and I blew it. Instead of trying to kill Malchus, I should have been braver standing around the fire.

Just like me to choose the wrong place, the wrong time, and the wrong action. My grief is  inconsolable. What do I do now?

Today’s Readings: 2 Kings 24; Jeremiah 22; Psalm 112; John 18

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