Meditation on Mark 14:27-31, 37-38, 66-72, for Palm Sunday/Sunday of the Passion (1 Yr lectionary), "Willing Spirit, Weak Flesh"

Out of the flood of images that pour out of the Passion reading, seize on the person of Peter for a moment. At the Last Supper, Jesus says “You will all fall away, for it is written, ‘I will strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.’ But after I am raised up, I will go before you to Galilee.” Jesus is quoting from the prophet Zechariah, explaining how all His disciples would abandon Him in His hour of greatest need. But also, that Jesus would rise up from death, and rendezvous with them in Galilee (this of course they forgot until after the resurrection). But Peter is eager to proclaim his undying loyalty to Jesus: “Even though they all fall away, I will not.”

Probably many of us at one time or another have imagined ourselves doing something heroic in the midst of danger. Or showing our loyalty to the extreme, or standing up bravely when others failed. But how will we be tested? And would we stand the test? Jesus soberly answered Peter’s boast: “Truly, I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” But he said emphatically, “If I must die with you, I will not deny you.” And they all said the same. They could not imagine their betrayal or denial of Jesus—but when it came down to it, Jesus was right. They all abandoned Him.

The next scene, in Gethsemane, Jesus calls them to fervent prayer. Certainly not the most strenuous test they would face. A simple call to prayer and spiritual discipline, in the face of the coming crisis. Yet even in this modest test, sleep overcame them. Sorrowfully, Jesus says to Peter: “Simon, are you asleep? Could you not watch one hour? Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak.”

These words capture our human condition with the sheer honesty, accuracy, and authority of God living in the flesh. Our spirit is willing. We want to follow, to be loyal, to be brave, to be spiritually self-disciplined and to stand the test. We want to walk faithfully on that path of discipleship, loving our neighbor as ourselves, and restraining our sinful desires and impulses, and we want to choose what is good and pleasing to God. We want to be brave like Peter promised, but to succeed where he failed. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak. Those words of Jesus are haunting. They tell us that in spite of our best intentions, our sinful flesh is apt to get the better of us. Sometimes we may struggle and win, by God’s grace. Other times the flesh may prevail because our flesh is weak. Our weakness may or may not show up as cowardliness, as it did when Peter denied our Lord three times. It may show itself as a weakness to resist temptation. It may show itself as a stubbornness against the goodness of God’s will and design. A weakness that is blind to the self-injury of sin, and its moral and spiritual cost.

I don’t need to recount to you the vigor and determination of Peter, when he denied ever knowing Jesus. When he turned His back on his beloved Lord, teacher, and friend. But when Peter heard the rooster crow, and remembered Jesus’ words, he wept bitterly. The hymn “Jesus, Refuge of the Weary” has this line: “Do we pass that cross unheeding, breathing no repentant vow, though we see you wounded, bleeding, see your thorn encircled brow?” When we have succumbed to our weak flesh, when our willing spirit has lost the struggle to our weak flesh, do we weep? Do we utter a groan of repentance? Or do we pass the cross of Jesus and His suffering without noticing? Unaffected? For one who has tasted the goodness of the Lord, who has known the depth of God’s mercy, our sins and betrayals, our foolish choices and wrongs are a bitter taste in our mouth. We know the taste of goodness, and long for it. But oh our flesh is weak!

Today we also remember that the scenes we hear and witness, are just two chapters of the relationship between Peter and Jesus. There was much more to be written in the story of Peter’s life of discipleship, as there is for ours. This chapter ended badly for Peter. Jesus went, as He knew He would, alone to the cross. Abandoned, betrayed, denied. The hymn writer finishes the verse: “Yet Your sinless death has brought us life eternal, peace and rest; only what Your grace has taught us calms the sinner’s deep distress.” Thanks be to Jesus, that His Spirit was willing and His flesh was strong—in the end, all that counts is that Jesus was able to do what we were unable. For the bitter weeping of Peter, only the grace of Jesus calms that deep distress. For our wanderings, when we spit out the bitter taste of sin in our mouths, only what God’s grace has taught us can restore and comfort us. The consolation of Jesus on the cross for our sins, is that He has accomplished everything for us—the full disposal of our sin and it’s bitter guilt—and the full declaration of our forgiveness by faith in Him. He left nothing to chance—He did not leave it to our fickle abilities or willpower, nor to our weak and sin-prone flesh. His sinless death brings us life eternal, peace and rest. And He puts the good taste of His mercy back in our mouths with the Covenant of His body and blood, given for you. For this consolation of Jesus—for this hope for every sinner—for our baptism into His death and resurrection to be made new—for this, we ever praise and glorify Jesus—the Name above all names. Amen. Pray: Lord give us a clean and willing spirit, and a strengthened and renewed flesh, to serve you truly. Amen.