Nobody likes disloyalty. Whether one is a heroic lawman hunting down mafioso or a dastardly mafioso evading a heroic lawman, disloyalty sours the stomach. Incompetence is a frustration. Arrogance is an annoyance. Disloyalty, however, reveals a selfishness, a cravenness so ugly that we hate it at first sight. In Orwell’s 1984 it wasn’t enough for Big Brother to get Winston to concede that 2 and 2 make 5. It wasn’t enough for him to sign a confession, to plead for mercy. No, Winston wasn’t fully broken until his fear of the caged rats led him to cry out that she, his illicit love, should receive the treatment.
The disciples did not do well in the lead up to the crucifixion. Falling asleep while keeping watch. Judas, of course, betraying Jesus. Fleeing the scene when Jesus is seized. But one disciple, despite having been warned, despite the prayers of Jesus for him, manifested the most despicable disloyalty not once, not twice but three times. Peter.
How do you think Peter’s failure would have impacted his reputation? Would it not be the case, once the truth was revealed, that not only would the believers have been appalled, but even the heathen? Would he not, for the rest of his earthly life, worn a scarlet D? Would not, when he entered the marketplace, men and women huddle together, point him out and whisper, “There’s Peter, the one who denied Jesus three times.” Even those who had cried out “Crucify Him” would feel morally superior to Peter.
Peter, however, found grace. He was forgiven his sin and welcomed among the brethren. His repentance was found to be genuine as he never again failed a test of loyalty. Except, of course, that he did. The very man chosen to lead the first Gentiles into the kingdom would later refuse to even eat with Gentile believers.
Why? Maybe because, having lost his reputation already, he couldn’t bear the sneers of the Judaizers. Maybe because, having such a terrible reputation, he thought it wise not to damage it further by hanging out with Gentiles. We don’t know why. We simply know that it happened. Once again Peter, always the first to proclaim his loyalty, shows himself to be anything but loyal.
So what did he do? He repented, and believed the gospel. He received Paul’s just rebuke, and sought His Lord’s forgiveness. Then, because of his loyalty to the gospel, his reputation in absolute tatters, he went forth and preached it still more, until the day he received the ultimate honor of martyrdom.
Every sin of every believer is an act of disloyalty. We refuse to heed the voice of the Shepherd who died for us. Every heathen, if he knew us well, would have just cause to disparage every one of us. Every sin we confess exposes the hard truth that we, while we have, because of Jesus, been declared to be just, are in ourselves sinners. Every sin gives the serpent and his minions truth by which to accuse us. But by the power of His grace and for the manifestation of His glory, we repent. And move forward.