Temperament | Wayfarer

The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: “Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.” And he went outside and wept bitterly.
Luke 22:61-62 (NIV)

As a child, I had a healthy conscience. If I had done something wrong, it weighed on my heart like the proverbial millstone Jesus referenced as just punishment for causing a little one to stumble. Looking back, it’s fascinating for me to think about the things that sent me into attacks of shame and the the things I could convince myself weren’t “that bad.”

It starts at such an early age, doesn’t it? The mental gymnastics of moral justice: What’s bad? What’s very bad? What’s not a big deal (if you can get away with it)? What sins weigh heavier on the scales of justice within the family system, the school system, the neighborhood system, and the peer group system?

It was fascinating for me to become a father and observe just how opposite two children with the same genes can be within the same family system. One daughter’s conscience was impregnable. She always pled “not guilty” no matter how red-handed she might have been caught. She remained stoically resolute, stuck with her plea, and quickly appealed any parental verdict as prosecutorial overreach and abuse of power. At times it was comical, at other times it was maddening.

With the other daughter, all it took was a look. A look of condemnation, or worse yet – a look of disappointment. Her little spirit wilted. Tears flowed. If nature helps to determine temperament, then I’m pretty certain she got that from me. Oh, that parenting could always be as easy as a look.

The look. That’s what struck me in today’s chapter. I find it fascinating that Luke included this little detail. Peter utters his third denial and immediately the rooster crows. With that audio cue, Jesus turns and looks directly at Peter. The denial, the rooster, the look. The weight of his denial, his sin, and the hollow emptiness of his emphatic assurance to be imprisoned and die with Jesus all come crashing down on Peter in a moment. He runs. He weeps bitterly.

As a child with a healthy conscience, it’s easy for me to feel that weight. I identify with Peter.

“Me, too, dude,” my spirit whispers to the weeping, shamed, unworthy Simon. I totally identify with Peter at that moment; The seemingly ill-chosen ”Rock” and ”Keeper of the Keys.” By default, I ‘m ready to sit down with Peter and have a shame-induced pity party.

But, there’s something else I noticed in today’s chapter: Jesus knew. Jesus not only saw Peter’s impending denial and failure to follow-through on his assurances, but He also saw past the failure to the sorrow, repentance, and restoration. Jesus’ perceived that Peter’s fall would ultimately help mold him into a more solid, humble, and capable leader. Much in the same way that, as a father, I knew that one daughter’s tender spirit was going to develop into a heart of compassion that God would use in one way, and that God would use my other daughter’s strength of will and resolution for different but just as meaningful purposes.

In the quiet this morning I find the realization that I’m quick to sit and wallow with Peter in the failure and shame. This, however, means that I am slow to accept God’s perfect knowledge of me, my shortcomings, my failures, my heart of repentance, my restoration, and all that He is molding me to be for His Kingdom purposes. Embracing the former without embracing the latter is to accept an incomplete reality: Jesus remains very disappointed in me and I remain shamed and self-condemned. Within days, the resurrected Christ would stand on a beach graciously prompting from Peter three “I love you’s” to replace the three ”I don’t know Him’s.” Peter remains on course for the journey of love, faith, leadership, transformation and sacrifice to which he’d been called from the beginning.

It’s so easy for me to see “the look” of Jesus as one of a disappointment. But just as I could “look” at my daughters and see beyond their momentary infractions to the amazing individuals they would grow to be, “the look” of Jesus always sees beyond my failure to the fullness of all I am and will be in Him.

But be sure that everything is done properly and in order. 1 Corinthians 14:40 (NLT)

Wendy and I celebrated our seventh wedding anniversary on New Year’s Eve. It was a wonderful occasion and celebration that makes the holiday extra special for us. On New Year’s Day we celebrated by taking down our Christmas decorations and returning Vander Well Manor back to it’s normal daily appearance. The holidays, the celebration of our anniversary, and the extra time we have to be together during the holidays always gives me opportunity to think about our relationship.

Wendy and I have a lot in common when it comes to our interests, but those who know us well will tell you that we are opposites in temperament. I am laid back and tend to go with the flow while Wendy is very particular and highly organized. After seven years of marriage, I realized yesterday that our annual taking down of the decorations was as efficient and stress free as we’d ever experienced. I believe that this was due in a large part to an unspoken understanding of one another and how best to attack the process in a way that played to our strengths.

No matter what our individual bent, the strength of our personal temperament always comes with a corollary weakness. Being laid back and able to go with the flow helps me to weather change and to bring flexibility and stability to rapidly changing circumstances. At the same time, I tend not to sweat certain details and give little thought to the long term implications of my momentary decisions. The result can often create frustration since Wendy’s bent is to give careful thought to each decision in order to anticipate the future chain of events to where it will lead.

Today’s chapter is all about similar differences in the way the followers of Jesus in Corinth were going about their meetings together. Conflict arose because the meetings had become a bit of a laid back free-for-all and Paul was trying to address some of the specific issues the local group of believers were experiencing. I thought Paul’s bullet at the end of the discussion summed things up nicely: Do things properly and in order. I can hear Wendy’s voice in my head lending a hearty “Amen.”.

I’m not one for formal New Year’s resolutions, but as we put away decorations yesterday and cleaned up the house I told myself to make 2013 a year of “getting my house in order.” I find it interesting to wake up this morning and, in a little moment of synchronicity, read Paul’s succinct directive. We don’t make much progress in our personal journey unless we consciously choose to address areas of needed improvement. For a easy going person like me, that means consciously doing a better job of sweating the details, doing things properly, and going about my day in a more orderly fashion.

(Which means I need to end this post and get ready for my day. Happy New Year.)