Unfinished: Peter's Story | Asleep

Most of you know that Heidi and I have teenagers at home. It's a completely different season of parenting than the previous seasons of parenting. We're past some major stages. No more diapers. No more car seats.

No more cutting up the food for them. No more of this constantly having to watch where they're going in the house to make sure that they don't break things or stick. Stick something in their mouth that they shouldn't, at least most days.

But they're growing up and they're becoming more capable than they've ever been before. They can help out around the house. They can help out around the house. They can mow the grass and set their own alarms. They can get themselves out of bed.

They can actually contribute to our house in meaningful ways. They know more things. In fact, they know all kinds of things that Heidi and I don't know. They've been exposed to things in their lives that we had never been exposed to at this point in our lives. They see things differently than we do, and we learn from them regularly.

The other day, our gas weed eater, it needed fixed, and I ordered a part. I handed a carburetor to my oldest son, Garrett, and said, go fix it. And he just went and fixed it. It was awesome. And it actually ran.

Ada can drive now. She's super independent. She's very responsible. She takes care of all of her schedule. She can get the kids to school.

She can run them to practices. She is so helpful around, and she's involved in lots of things, and she stays on top of it. Wyatt's our dreamer. He's always got some crazy idea of something that he wants to experience or. Or build or make.

And very often I think to myself, he will never be able to do what he thinks he's going to be able to do. And then he does it, and he surprises me all the time. I'm probably guilty far more often of underestimating my kids than I am of overestimating my kids. Sometimes I step in too quickly. Sometimes I explain things that they already understand.

Sometimes I assume they need help when they don't. And the truth is, they're not little kids anymore, and they deserve credit for that. They're actually growing up to be pretty thoughtful, responsible, capable young adults. It's fun to watch. But with all of that growing ability and knowledge and experience comes something else, too.

Confidence. And of course, confidence isn't a bad thing. We don't want them to leave our house and have to call us before every decision they make. But there's A kind of confidence that can show up before wisdom has had enough time to catch up. I realized this week that two of the most common responses that we get from them when we tell them anything is I know.

Or they tell us how we're wrong. And sometimes they do know, and sometimes they're right and I'm wrong. Sometimes the thing coming out of my mouth is not nearly as helpful as I thought it was. But other times they know enough to feel certain, but not enough to know what they don't know. And it's not because they're dumb.

It's because they're. It's just because they haven't lived enough life yet. There's no shortcut for that. At 16, you can be intelligent and responsible and mature, even far more capable than everyone else else your age. But what you can't do, because it's impossible, you can't have 50 years of experience.

At 16, you can't know what it feels like to carry a mortgage, raise a child, navigate a marriage through difficult seasons, make decisions that have consequences that last for decades. You can't discover that something you were completely certain about at 20. At 40, you're convinced of the opposite. There are some things you can only learn by living long enough. And while our kids are more capable than they've ever been, they still need help.

Both of these things are perfectly and simultaneously true. Now, before we all sit here and nod our heads and think exactly right, teenagers, they think they know everything. This is not a teenager problem. This is a human problem. Because however old you are, chances are you think you know more than you've ever known.

You think you're more capable than you've ever been. And when you look back at the younger version of you, what do you think? That guy was an idiot. I can't believe I did that thing. I can't believe how foolish I was.

I had no idea what I was doing. I didn't even know what I didn't know. We all look back at ourselves 10 years ago and see how weak and naive and foolish we were. And 10 years from now, you know what we're going to do? We're going to look at the you that you are now and think that that guy was an idiot.

You'll all look back and think the same thing. Can I get an amen from everyone over the age of 70?

However far along we are, we assume that that because we can see the foolishness behind us, we must now be wise enough to see all things with clarity ahead of us. One of the luxuries and dangers of adulthood is that fewer people correct us the older we get. Nobody's checking our homework anymore. Nobody's standing over our shoulder making sure that we're making a wise decision. Nobody's forcing us to get advice before we spend money or.

Or take a job or say yes to something or walk away from something. And we can rely on our bank account and our experience and our wisdom. We can rely on our ability to solve problems. We can rely on all the times that we've handled things before. But often the smarter we get, the less teachable we become.

Often the more experienced we become, the less likely we are to ask for help. The more capable we think that we are, the easier it is for us to stop relying on God. Growth in ability often leads to a lack of humility.

This is what we're going to watch play out in Peter's life. For the last two weeks, we've been in this series called Unfinished, looking at Peter's unfinished life and finding hope in in our lives, in Peter's unfinishedness, in his brokenness. Just as Jesus was patient with Peter, he is patient with us. And that's good news, because we need grace. But if we're not careful, we can get so comfortable in the wonderful truth of grace, this wonderful hot tub of grace, that we can begin to think that grace means Jesus is so nice that it doesn't really matter what happens after we get the grace, whether we grow or change or listen or become more like him.

We can get really comfortable with the idea that we're just unfinished and leverage grace as an excuse to sit on our hands and stop trying to grow. But grace was never intended or meant to make us passive. Jesus doesn't look at Peter's weakness and say, yeah, it's okay, you're unfinished. Don't worry about it. Over and over, Jesus meets Peter exactly where he is.

But he loves him too much to leave him where he found him. And as we pick up on the story today, it's been about three and a half years that Peter has been walking with Jesus. And the longer he walks with Jesus, the more capable he becomes. This is the most patient, mature, capable version of Peter that has ever lived. He's grown.

He knows more. He's seen more, he's done more. But the blindness is creeping in on him as his confidence in himself grows. He thinks he knows where his edges are. He thinks he knows how strong he is.

He thinks he knows and how he would respond if things got really hard. And we pick up the story at the Last Supper, that meal that Jesus shares with his disciples the night before his crucifixion. This is the scene that we talk about every week as we come together and share in communion. But there's much more going on than the part of the night that we talk about at communion. Pressure is building from religious and political leaders.

Death threats on Jesus life are growing. And though Jesus has tried multiple times to explain to these guys what's coming next, they can't get their heads around it. This scene is actually so much more than an ice meal with friends. When you zoom out a bit, it's actually one of the most awkward, dysfunctional dinner parties ever. Jesus is the one who breaks the comfortable moment by tossing a hand grenade onto the dinner table.

Like, just imagine for a moment we are gathered at a meal with Jesus, and this is what happens. Matthew 26:20. When evening came, Jesus was reclining at the table with the 12. And while they were eating, he said, truly, I tell you, one of you will betray me. This is awkward silence right away, right?

This is terrible. This is so uncomfortable. Next verse. They were very sad and began to say to him, one after the other, surely you don't mean me, Lord. And from here, he uncovers that it's Judas.

I mean, seriously, imagine what it would have felt like. I'm sure we've all had an awkward family dinner, but this one kind of takes the cake. This would be tense. And then right after he drops this bomb is when Jesus breaks the bread and passes the cup.

Most of us have never even thought about the fact that it's right after he says, this is what's going to happen, that he hands out the bread and the cup. But think about how powerful these two pictures are right next to each other. It's almost like Jesus is saying, you are about to see the depth of human selfishness and sin on display. And let me show you what I'm about to do. Let me show you how much further the love of God is willing to go to save you from yourself.

And I thought it would be good for us to sit in this moment a bit more. Like they actually sat in this moment, in this awkward reality that we're sitting around the table with a perfect Lord and Savior and we're all betrayers sitting at the table. So we're going to share in communion in this way. If you didn't get a communion cup on your way in, would you raise your hand? Our team would love to bring you one.

Jesus offers us his very life, even as we sit at the table as betrayers.

And that night, after revealing what's coming, he broke bread and he gave it to them. And he said, this is my body given for you. Take and eat.

In the same way he took the cup, he said, this is the blood of the new covenant. My blood poured out, shed for you. Take and drink and remember.

Jesus, we thank youk that despite ourselves, despite whom, who you knew and know we will become, despite the things we will do and say that we will regret, despite our even, even our betrayal to you. You love us.

Thank you for that incredible grace. May it never lead us to sit on our hands, but to long to be nearer and more like you.

It's in your mighty name we pray. Amen.

As his disciples finish up their awkward and beautiful meal, Jesus goes on to do what he planned to do. Or, sorry, Judas goes on to do what he planned to do. And Jesus takes the guys on, on a late night walk. And I imagine that the disciples are just kind of quietly bad mouthing Judas. Some of them are surprised.

I can't believe. I just would never have thought. Others they're claiming that they saw it all along. I knew from the moment Jesus invited him this was a bad idea. I never trusted the guy, right?

And imagine as they're quietly bad mouthing him, Jesus knows and he throws gasoline on the fire. Verse 30. Then Jesus told them, this very night, you will all fall away on account of me. For it is written, I will strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will be scattered. Jesus says, before this night is over, the one that you are badmouthing right now, you will be just like him.

Luke adds another powerful detail to the story. It's really interesting. Notice Jesus speaks to Peter, but he calls him by his old name, Simon. Luke 22:31. He says, Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat.

But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers. And Jesus knows that despite his prayers, in just a few hours, Peter is going to deny that he even knows Jesus three times. But he adds that bit of hope. It's like Jesus is saying, yes, Peter, you're going to fail too.

But when you make it to the other side and you rise from the ashes, use what you learned to lead and encourage those around you. And Peter, like an overconfident teenager, he immediately fires back. Verse 32. Peter replied, Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will. Truly, I tell you, Jesus answered this Very night before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.

But Peter declared, even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you. And all the other disciples said the same. No Jesus, no. We would never abandon you. How many times in my life have I overconfidently committed something to God that I did not understand?

The ramifications of the disciples intentions are good, but their confidence in their own strength is way overstated, more than they can even imagine. Luke tells us that at this point the disciples begin to like imagine this. The disciples begin to argue among themselves about which one of them is the greatest.

Now before we move on with the story, I want us to notice something about something about Jesus. Warning here he says, for it is written I will strike the shepherd and the sheep of the flock will be scattered. Anytime you're reading through the Bible and it says, for it is written and the words become kind of indented on the page, pay attention because almost always what's happening is the writer is referring to another piece of scripture and so they're trying to point something out and make connections.

Here Jesus is quoting a 500 year old prophecy from Zechariah and he's making an incredible observation. Jesus says, what's going to happen? You all falling away? It's going to happen because it's actually been written. In other words, what's about to happen isn't random.

It isn't an accident. It isn't Judas getting the upper hand. It isn't Satan or Rome or the religious leaders winning. What's about to happen is all part of God's redemptive plan and he knew all along. This reminds me of last week's big question.

What if God is exactly who he says he is? What if he really is sovereign? That just means he's in control over all things. What if he really is sovereign even when everything looks completely out of control? What if the betrayal and the cross aren't evidence that God lost control, but the clearest evidence that he's working?

He's working out a plan that no one else can understand.

Very soon it's going to look like the entire thing is collapsing. It's going to look like God lost. But Jesus is telling them ahead of time. When the shepherd is struck and the sheep scattered, don't be surprised because God has been preparing us all for this moment for 500 years. He's still working, he's still here.

He's still sovereign. He's still exactly who he says he is.

Now sometimes the mess that we're in is our own doing. Sometimes we just make really poor choices and then we blame God for our self made mess. But there are also seasons when we've genuinely sought Him. We've spent time fasting and praying. We know what he's called us to do.

We step into it with faithfulness and steady still. Life feels like it's spinning out of control and unraveling. And if you're in that season right now, don't assume that the mess means you missed God this time. For Jesus, the painful path is God's path. He's up to something far greater than the immediate suffering.

Sometimes the path God is using looks for a while like everything is being lost. But he's still who he says he is. Keep taking that next faithful step and that next faithful step. But back to the story. Jesus takes the 11 remaining disciples.

He takes them to the Garden of Gethsemane. This would have been a very familiar place for them. He tells most of them, sit here while I go over there and pray. But he takes with him Peter, James and John, the three disciples that are closest to him. These three are the guys that have had a front row seat to some incredible moments in Jesus ministry.

He invites those three into the closed room where there's a little girl who has died and Jesus raises her from the dead. They get to see that his power and glory revealed. These guys are invited up to the Mount of Transfiguration. We talked about this back in our March series. They get to see Jesus Christ kind of pull back the curtain.

And they get to see his glory and divinity. They get to see that he's way more than a good preacher, a good friend, a healer, and a miracle worker and a prophet. They get to see that he in fact is God. And now in the garden, Jesus brings these three further in. And this time he's going to pull back the curtain again.

But this time he's not going to show him his, show them his power and divinity. He's going to reveal how human he is.

Verse 37. He took Peter and the two sons of Zebedee, that's James and John, along with him. And he began to be sorrowful and troubled. Then he said to them, my soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. Stay here and keep watch with me.

Going a little farther. He fell with his face to the ground and prayed. My Father, if it is possible, may this cup be taken from me. Yet not as I will, but as you will. I love that Jesus isn't pretending to Be untroubled or troubled.

He's just being what he is.

He knows exactly what's coming. He knows the weight of the cup he's about to drink. And every part of his humanity is recoiling from it. His humanity cries out to the Father, I don't want to do this.

I love that Jesus doesn't pretend.

I feel like I ought to say to some of you in this room, it's time to stop pretending.

It's time to stop pretending like you have some responsibility to have held everything together so that the people around you think that you have held everything together. In fact, the most Christlike thing that you can do is lay down the lie, deal with reality and confess that you are not enough and never will be. Especially men. Hear me. Listen to me.

Our kids, our wives, our grandkids, our co workers, they need to be able to see our humanity like Jesus showed his. And when we pretend like we have it all together, all we're telling them is that they aren't enough and they have to pretend too. And we're perpetuating this lie that we've got it all together. It's time to stop.

He tells his friends. My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death. This is a deeply human moment for Jesus. He doesn't want to suffer. He asks if there's any other way.

He leans the full weight of his sorrow and angst and anguish onto the Father. He shows us what real dependence actually looks like, even in the face of death. And after he's poured out his heart to God and God's answer is not what he wants, he says those unbelievably powerful words, yet not as I will, but as you will. These are very familiar words. When the disciples asked Jesus teach us how to pray, this is what he taught them.

Our Father in heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Your will be done. And now, in this moment when most of us would conclude that our prayers are broken, that God has failed us because he doesn't take away the path of suffering, Jesus shows us that prayer is about way more than getting what we ask for. Prayer gives us a place to bring our fear and our pain and our deepest desires and hurts honestly before God, and then release our grip on them long enough to trust him.

Sometimes prayer takes the thing out of our path that we hope that it will. And sometimes prayer strengthens us and realigns us with the Father still faithful even in the middle of it.

Verse 40 Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. Couldn't you men keep watch with me for one hour? He asked Peter. Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

He went away a second time and prayed, my Father, if it is not possible for this cup to be taken away unless I drink it, may your will be done. When he came back, he again found them sleeping because their eyes were heavy. So he left them and went away once more and prayed the third time saying the same thing. Then he returned to the disciples and said to them, are you still sleeping and resting? Look, the hour has come and the Son of Man is delivered into the hands of sinners.

You know, most of my life as I read this, I always heard Jesus with a tone like, really, this is how lame you are? Really, this is how weak you are.

But I think there's more compassion in his voice than that. Remember, he's already told Peter, I've prayed for you that you will not fail. I think Jesus isn't only praying for strength, for himself to face what's coming ahead. I think he's going away to pray for them, these guys who are going to carry the weight of everything that's in front of them in ways that they can't even possibly understand. Each time Jesus returns, I think he's just longing to find them doing what he's doing, longing to find them, bringing their fear and their weakness to the Father and drawing on strength from the only source strong enough to carry them through the night.

Like a parent who knows there's a much easier path, but our kids won't listen. He knows they can't avoid what's coming, but through prayer, they don't have to be overcome by it. But each time he returns to find them sleeping, it's heartbreaking. They're further along than they've ever been. This is the best version of themselves that they've ever been, and they're still unfinished.

Jesus knows they're sincere. He knows they love him. But he also knows they're weaker than they realize, and they still haven't learned to depend on the strength he's trying to show them. As I was studying this moment, I was listening to a sermon from another preacher. And he pointed out something that I had never really thought about before.

He was just talking about how much grace and patience Jesus had with these disciples knowing what was coming. And he said, if you knew today that in the next month your spouse was going to be unfaithful or Your child was going to curse you, or your boss was going to fire you, or your closest friend was going to turn their back on you three times.

You would have a very difficult time not punishing them today for what they're going to do in the future. Jesus knows exactly what Peter's about to do, and he doesn't punish him. In fact, Jesus has known from the beginning. He knew from before he called Peter to follow him, that this moment is coming. What an absolutely incredible outpouring of grace and love.

Jesus is capable of grace beyond what we are humanly capable of. And instead of disqualifying Peter for what he will do, Jesus uses it to strengthen him for what he'll do after he does that. That's the compassion of Jesus. He sees Peter not as the man that he will be in the lowest moment of his life. He sees him for the man that grace is forming him into.

That's what it means to be unfinished in the hands of Jesus. He sees what we are. He knows what we've done. He knows what we will do. And still he keeps drawing us close, telling us the truth, giving us what we need in every moment to take the next faithful step.

But I want to go back to the invitation Jesus gives Peter, James, and John. He says, watch and pray.

St. Augustine of Hippo summarized this like this. He said, watch means we have a responsibility to stay alert. And pray means alertness alone isn't enough. We need God's help.

Pay attention. Pay attention. This is the call. Get your eyes up. Pay attention to what's going on around you.

Pay attention to the potholes that are in front of you. Pay attention to what's going on in your heart and in your life. But that's not enough. We also must bring all that to God and receive his power and strength. Recognizing our weakness without depending on his strength isn't enough.

I don't think Jesus gives Peter, James and John this practice only for this one night either. He knows. He knows they're going to fail tonight. They'll fall asleep. They'll panic.

When the soldiers arrive, Peter will pull out his sword. Instead of trusting Jesus, they'll all run off. Jesus will be denied by Peter three times. But Jesus places something in Peter's memory that Peter is going to be able to draw on when he can only understand it from the other side.

It's like part of parenting teenagers. You tell them something knowing that they will not understand fully why it matters. And they say, I know. And then life teaches them what we can't. But we keep telling them because we hope that when the time comes on the other side of this, that thing will be in their pocket when they need it the most.

Peter fails the lesson that night, but we find out later that these words stuck years later. Peter is writing to Christians who are suffering under pressure, and he writes this letter to them in first and Second Peter. And listen for the echoes of the Garden of Gethsemane in these words. First Peter 5, 6. Humble yourselves therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time.

Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. Be alert, pay attention, and of sober mind. The enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings. Your sufferings are not special.

All of us are dealing with these same things. And the God of all grace, who called you into his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast to Him. Be the power forever and ever. Amen. The man who once believed he was strong enough on his own now says, humble yourselves.

Be alert. Cast your anxiety on God. Peter eventually learns the lesson. Strength doesn't come from flexing our faith muscles or becoming so mature that we no longer need help from God. It comes from becoming more aware of our weakness and more dependent on God's strength.

Yes, you're unfinished. Yes, I'm unfinished. Yes, Jesus knows our weaknesses. Yes, his grace is greater than your failure. But grace isn't permission to stay passive.

Grace invites us to stay close enough to Jesus to be changed, to watch and pray, to pay attention to what's happening around us and inside of us, to notice where we're tired and afraid and angry and proud and lonely and vulnerable. And pray not just to recognize our weakness, but to bring it to God, leaning with our full weight on Him. See, real maturity isn't reaching a place where you need God less. Real maturity is finally understanding how desperately you've always needed God.

You don't have to convince Jesus that you've got this. He's not surprised that you don't. You don't have to make another promise about how strong you're going to be. God, I will never. I will never.

I will never. I will never.

The invitation of the gospel is an invitation to say, jesus, I am desperately in need of you.

I need you when I feel weak. I need you when I feel strong so strong that I forgot how weak I am. I need you when temptation comes. I need you when anxiety rises. I need you in every decision.

I need you in every struggle, in every moment, in every hour. I need you. I desperately desperately need you. And whether you're on this end of things that you have convinced yourself that you do not need him or you're on this end of things where you are so anxious and bound up in your brokenness that you can't trust that he would allow you to receive wherever you are all of us are wrapped up in some sort of chain in this span and the invitation today is to allow Christ through the work on the cross to take bolt cutters to those chains and break them free for the first time or the hundredth time. We're all swinging this wild swing back and forth between pride and insecurity and and Jesus says just say that you need me just say that you need me.