I take great encouragement from the apostles. What a bunch of goofs. What stunningly thickheaded slow-learners, yet all (metaphorically) wearing "
I'm With Stupid" t-shirts.
In Matthew 16, Jesus asks them who people say He is, then after their response He points the finger and asks "But
you -- who do
you say that I am?" (Matthew 16:15, emphatic
humeis). Peter, in one of his brief, shining moments, gives the right answer, and Jesus says he could only know this by divine revelation. As we see Peter in the Gospels, this is almost a truism.
Then Jesus tells them exactly what is going to happen to Him. Does He leave out any essential? Not really. And yet, when it all eventually happens just as predicted, they're still utterly thunderstruck. Had they the chance, I can almost hear them choking out, "But... but why didn't You tell us?" What knotheads. Ahh, my kind of guys. I'd have fit right in without a ripple. (Well, except for speaking Greek with a California accent.)
But as I recently re-read this passage, what struck me is Peter's response to Jesus' dark announcement. Peter had confessed the wonderful truth about Jesus, and had received Jesus' affirmation. It was stacking up as a great day for the Rockinator.
But what does Peter do with this new information about Him whom he'd just crowned the Christ, the Son of the living God? He
rebukes Him! He takes Jesus to task, chews Him out, tries to set Jesus straight. (Yes, that was as weird to write as it is to read.)
But note how Peter rebukes Jesus. The Greek
hileos soi, kurie is hard to capture. Probably the best way to render it is to paraphrase along the lines of the ESV's footnote: "May God be merciful to you, Lord!"
Clearly, Peter is appalled to his very soul at the idea. It horrifies him. I wouldn't charge him with great self-interest or any other such base motivation. Peter clearly loved Jesus, by his best lights, and the idea of Him being treated in this way simply sickens Peter to his very soul. Can we blame Him? In his sandals, would we really have sighed, shrugged, nodded piously and said, "Yes, well, that is what some prophecies seem to suggest..."?
Yet Jesus does blame him. In fact, He
scorchingly blames him. "Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man" (Matthew 16:23 ESV). So much for Peter's good day.
But why does Jesus call Peter "Satan"? Wasn't Peter motivated by tender, compassionate concern for Jesus? I would not assume otherwise. Jesus does not say otherwise. He does not fault Peter's feelings, so much as Peter's
thoughts. The HCSB version has it, "you're not thinking about God's concerns." "Not thinking" renders
ou phroneis, pointing to a mindset, a mental framework or attitude. The concern does not come from God's perspective.
How is that like Satan? My mind goes back to Satan's first appearance, where we see him as Man's Best Friend. Isn't that how he presents himself? First, he can't believe that God
really roped off all the trees of the garden. "Did God actually say?" he begins. He hates to see the woman so deprived, so repressed.
Then when Eve misquotes God to Satan, he immediately moves to quiet her fears. She should not deny herself such a boon! The fruit she wants is the fruit she
needs, and God has no good reason for keeping it from her! God have mercy on you Eve, take the fruit and realize your full selfhood, your full potential!
And so he had worked in Peter's thoughts, imperceptibly, maneuvering this good impulse and that good impulse (unshored from God's perspective) until what came out of Peter's mouth was exactly what Satan wanted him to say. Peter doubtless felt a sort of compassion; but that compassion was Satanic. It did not start from God's starting point in
rigorously analytical and self-critical thinking, and it did not stay there.
Compassion is a wonderful, godly human emotion -- or can be, as it is informed and directed in line with the Word. But if Peter shows us nothing else, he shows us that compassion can go wrong. What are some specific ways?
Given the baleful,
bloody anniversary we've just passed in America, I think of
abortion. Pro-aborts present their position as a compassionate position, in fact as
the compassionate position. Those who oppose abortion rights (as they put it) have no compassion for women in crisis. Of course, we have a
ready response, and can point out that we have compassion on both the mother
and the child.
But what of the "hard cases"? What of rape and incest? Here is where I've heard many Christians' "compassion" overrule their Biblical thinking.
Now look, let me be plain. I think the utmost of compassion is
completely appropriate for victims of these awful crimes. I think such women should be given every kind of help, encouragement, and support that can be afforded them.
I just don't think it is
compassionate to turn a victim into a victimizer.
In such cases, there are
two victims: the mother, and her child. Neither one should be punished for being a victim. Both deserve compassion and support. I just can see no Biblical warrant for encouraging a woman to victimize her child, to contract his or her killing, and calling that "compassion."
"Ah," many will say. "That's a very emotional issue." Yes, it really is. As was Jesus' prediction of His impending violent death. That was a very emotional issue for Peter. Peter let his emotions rule his thinking, and that took his thinking in a Satanic direction.
Will we learn nothing from Peter?
Perhaps you can think of other contemporary issues where Satanic values masquerade under a guise of compassion. Homosexuality leaps to mind. It sounds like the very distillation of compassion to tell such tortured souls that they should give up the struggle, accept their passions, and embrace them. But this is the compassion of Hell. This is the compassion that ignores the Cross, with its equally great threats of judgment, and promises of redemption, deliverance, and freedom. To tell souls struggling with any vile passions, whether they draw one towards homosexuality, adultery, theft, or murder, that they have no hope for deliverance, that their only hope is to redefine and then embrace sin, is no compassion at all.
But my last thoughts here turn to another Satanic form of compassion: the "compassion" we turn to our own sins.
We can read glibly of all the particulars above, if we've never waged those specific battles. It's easy for one who's never had the slightest homosexual urge to sermonize glibly on the topic; and so identically with all the others mentioned.
But what of your bad tongue? What of my tendency for faithless despair? What of her arrogant disrespect for her husband? What of his callous, selfish disregard for his wife, or distant unconcern for his children?
Oh, those are
different, aren't they? Those are our darling sins. We have
compassion on ourselves, compassion on our pet-sins. We create a force-field of rationalizations around them. They're different, because we're different, and our situation is different. Surely they can't be meant for the Cross! Mortify those sins? Put them to a screaming, howling death? Fight and fight, bloodily and incessantly and unsparingly, until they cease struggling and breathing, and have been replaced by God-honoring attitudes and behaviors? God have mercy on us, this can never be!
Sound familiar?
Satanic compassion. God grant we all learn from Peter.
-- Dan Phillips (graphically deprived, but oh, I have ideas....)