Don’t call me the Rock – for it was my sin that held him there
Lord forgive, Lord
forgive, Lord forgive...
The first time I was asked, the lie just fell out of my mouth
A servant girl
I can picture her face right now
Taunting me and mocking me.
Reminding me of my every failure
My every sin
‘This man was also with him’ she declared
‘Woman I do not know him’ came my harsh reply.
There I was creeping at a distance – crouched by a fire
Listening to the torture and mocking, lies and abuse being hauled at
my friend Jesus
And I denied him.
Because… I was scared.
I was so ashamed at my lack of courage.
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
A second chance!
‘You are also one of them’, came the accusation this time from a man
Be brave Peter... be brave Peter... be brave Peter...
Be courageous Peter... be courageous Peter...
‘Man I am not’ came my reply.
Oh what a failure I am.
Why did he call me to be his disciple?
Why did he call me the rock?
DON’T CALL ME THAT – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
Perhaps he called me the rock as a joke... for what does a rock stand
for?
Unshakable, firm, dependable!
And here I am already having denied him twice.
About an hour passed as I reflected on my sin
On my failure, on my denial
And I promised myself if only I could have one more chance I would
proudly proclaim him as my friend and my saviour and my Lord
Just one more chance... one more chance... one more chance.
One more opportunity... one more opportunity... one more opportunity.
It came - a man came and he kept insisting –
‘Look at this man he must be with him for he is a Galilean’!
‘Look at this man he must be with him for he is a Galilean’!
‘Look at this man he must be with him for he is a Galilean’!
He kept saying it, kept taunting me, kept insisting that I knew him.
Finally I spoke –
Be courageous... be courageous... be brave... be brave...
This is my chance, my chance!
And the words I spoke –
‘Man I do not know what you are talking about’
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
There it was – a third denial –
The shame.
I thought I was better that this... but I wasn’t.
And as this was going on – as I had denied time and time again...
My friend Jesus was being broken and abused though innocent.
Then I heard the most painful of noises
A noise that haunts me.
A noise of failure
A noise reminding me of all I have done wrong
A cock crowed.
And I remembered the words of my Lord,
‘Before the cock crows today, you will deny me three times’.
He knew I would fail. He knew I was weak.
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
But I told him confidently
I told him proudly
‘Though all else may fail you I will not
Lord I am ready to die for you’.
But I was wrong... when the time came I failed him
As he knew I would
He saw me for what I was – weak, scared and full of fear.
Lacking in courage and in moral fibre.
A sinner.
Forgive me Lord.
It was my sin that held you there...
When I look back over the night of Passover
And I remember Judas betraying Jesus with that kiss.
And I remember the anger it stirred up in me,
My temper coming to the surface.
And I asked that question time and time again...
How could he? How could he? How could He?
Except now as I ask that question –
I see myself also kissing Jesus on the cheek and betraying him to our
enemies.
And as I hid at a distance listening to the abuse my innocent friend
Jesus was taking...
I saw that it was me hurling abuse as well,
It was me accusing
It was me torturing.
I was listening to my own voice...
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
That Friday that you have all come to know as good got very very
bad...
Out came the whip – the cat-o’-nine-tails
A whip with a series of long leather straps.
At the end of which were heavy balls of metal intended to tenderise
Jesus body,
Much like a chef tenderises a steak.
Some of the straps have hooks made of bone and other metal...
They kept sinking into Jesus shoulders, back, buttocks and legs...
They would tear away and bring with them...
Well you don’t need the graphic detail
And as I got angry – as my eyes began to burn with injustice – as I
began to rage
I was reminded of the cock crowing
That awful noise...
And in fact it was me using the whip as much as anyone.
Every denial, every sin, every imperfection, every wrongful thought
was like a whip from me... onto my friend Jesus...
Lord forgive, lord forgive, lord forgive...
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
Jesus then was given a crown of thorns – pressed into his head – 5
days earlier the crowd shouted Hosanna
But now he was mocked as the king of the Jews.
And as I remembered the cock crowing – I heard my voice cry out among
the scoffers.
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
I did not follow Jesus to the cross –
Instead I ran - tears flooding – tears of shame – tears of guilt
But it was at the place of crucifixion – that they began to pluck
Jesus beard out – an act of ultimate disrespect
And I realised that I, Peter, was doing the plucking...
Then, Jesus the carpenter, who had driven many nails into wood with
his own hands, then had 5-7 inch rough metal spikes driven into the most
sensitive nerve centres on a human being –
Through his hands and his feet.
Jesus was nailed to his wooden cross.
And as I thought about it
I heard the cock crow
And I realised I was the one holding the hammer.
Driving the nails in...One by one...
Oh how I wept –
My friend Jesus dying though sinless
And what did I do – I denied him.
DON’T CALL ME THE ROCK – FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
And as I kept saying these words
The others returned the woman and the disciple who Jesus loved who had
witnessed the whole affair
I spoke tears running down my cheek – they confirmed the worse he had
died.
Forgive me forgive me I uttered
Sorry and I truly meant it...
I asked what had happened – did Jesus say anything?
Then I heard the most incredible thing...
And now perhaps…
I CAN BE CALLED THE ROCK BECAUSE MY SIN HELD HIM THERE
Now remember his pain and torture and the fact that he was innocent.
What would be his first words?
Not words of attack, not words of defence, not words expressing the
pain or the injustice...
No, his first words were for the father for us...
And as I repeatedly said, Lord forgive, Lord forgive, Lord forgive...
He said... father forgive, father forgive, father forgive...
‘Father forgive them for they do not know what they do’,
Jesus was praying for us, for Judas, for the soldiers, for Pilate, for
the mockers... and of course me and you...
‘Father forgive them for they do not know what they do’
Even though Jesus knew I would fail – even though he knew I would deny
He was forgiving me from the cross...
And for every wrong thing, every bad attitude, every mistake and
failure for now and eternity...
Jesus said... father forgive, father forgive, father forgive...
I CAN BE THE ROCK FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE.
It died with him... it went with him... it is no more...
Thank you God, thank you God, thank you God...
For those first words...
Father forgive, father forgive, father forgive...
I CAN BE THE ROCK FOR IT WAS MY SIN THAT HELD HIM THERE
What can I say?
How can I describe the indescrible...?
How can I tell you about grace...?
I don’t know – there are no words –
But to begin...
