Peter's Fall
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[Ed. note: We have been told that much of this article is lifted from Bishop Fulton Sheen, but Sheen, being both dead and holy, won't mind if it helps someone.]
The greatest of all dramas is the drama of the human soul. Though there are many phases to this drama, the most interesting phase is the psychology of a fall and resurrection. How do souls come to lose their faith and their love of God, and what steps do they take to regain it? The answer to these questions is to be found in the story of the Apostle Peter. There seems to have been five steps to his fall, as there have been to every fall since.
First there was a neglect of prayer. No soul ever fell away from God without first giving up prayer. Prayer is our constant contact with the power of God. No matter how great the temptation, it can never conquer us if we pray. And the first step downward in the average soul is giving up the practice of prayer, breaking the circuit with divinity and the proclamation of one's own self-sufficiency. Following the last supper Christ went into the Garden of Gethsemani. He turned to his disciples and said: "Watch one hour with me. Watch and pray lest you enter into temptation." Then Our Lord withdrew from them to prepare for his death. When he returned the Apostles were asleep. And he said to Peter: "Could you not watch one hour with me?" Peter had given up watching and praying.
The next step was substituting action for prayer. Most souls will feel the necessity of doing something for God and they turn to activity. Instead of going from prayer to action, they neglect the prayer and become busy about many things. Peter was no exception. In the turmoil of the arrest of Christ, Peter who had neglected to pray turns to action and strikes out with his sword cutting off the ear of one of the guards. Christ turned to Peter and said those who take up the sword will perish by the sword. The Church must never fight with the weapons of the world. Peter, giving up prayer, substituted violence toward others. Action without prayer is action without zeal and soon degenerated into the third step, indifference. Peter exemplifies this truth.
After his arrest Christ walked to the court of Caiphas and the gospel tells us: "Peter followed from afar." He first gave up prayer, then action, and now he keeps his distance. Only his eyes remain on his master. How quickly the insincerity of action without prayer proves itself. He who was brave enough to draw a sword a few hours before now strays on behind. Christ who once was the dominating passion of his life now becomes incidental.
How many of us are lingering in the footsteps of Christ, either out of force of habit or fear of conscience, but far behind and out of the reach of his voice. God never forgets us, but we often forget him. Christ always continues toward his cross and wants us by his side. But we judge the cross too difficult. Once the divine fades out of our life the material begins to assert itself. An excessive dedication to things and popularity and good times is always an indication of the inner poverty of the spirit. When there is a treasure within there is no need of those outer treasures which rust consumes, moths eat, and thieves break in and steal. But when the inner beauty is gone, we need luxuries to clothe our nakedness.
It is only natural then that we should find Peter in the fourth stage of his fall satisfying the wants of the body. He did not go into the courtroom, but remained outside with the servants. In the gospel of Luke we are told: "When they had kindled a fire and were sitting about it, Peter was in the midst of them." He pampered his body by the fire that the enemies of Christ had built. Luxury had taken the place of fidelity.
The last stage in the fall is human respect, when we become ashamed of our faith under ridicule and scorn. Worldly religions will get along well with the world, but not a divine religion. As Christ said: "Because they have persecuted me they will persecute you." At the very moment Christ was taking an oath proclaiming his divinity. Peter was taking an oath denying it. As Peter sat around the fire, one of the servant maids said to him: "You also were with Jesus of Nazareth." Peter denied it. Then another said that he was one of them and he denied it again saying: "Woman, I know him not." Then one of the men said to Peter: "Surely you are one of them for you are a Galilean." And Peter cursed and swore again saying: "I know not the man of whom you speak."
The fall was complete. But just as there are steps that lead a heart from Christ there are steps that lead it back. The first step back is disillusionment. Since pride has led us away from Christ, it follows that the first condition for conversion is humility. This humiliation most often comes by a profound realization that sin does not pay, that it never keeps its promises, that sin in reality is synonymous with unhappiness. A look at a crucifix can tell you the price of sin. The crowing of the cock three times reminded Peter of that price.
Luke tells us: "And the Lord turning looked at Peter." They were the eyes of a wounded friend, the eyes of a creator, a redeemer, a judge. They are the eyes that penetrated the indifferent heart of Peter. They are the eyes that are peering into your very soul today, a look calling you away from the gaudy attractions of the world to closer union with your God, a look asking you to daily Mass, to religious instruction classes, a look pleading with you to make a parish mission and rekindle the fires that have burned dim. It is the response to this look that saves or loses souls. If Peter had removed himself from that glance he would have become another Judas. Peter is the supreme example of the gospel warning: "He that thinks himself to stand, let him take heed lest he fall." And because Peter is so much like us in our conflicts, he is, therefore, our greatest hope. He faced the look of Christ and fear was replaced by courage, the fear by which he walked upon the water became the courage whereby he was crucified up-side-down. Pride became humility, indifference became love, disinterestedness became burning zeal.
No wonder Christ made him the head of his Church. Peter who fell and rose again, who sinned and begged forgiveness became the head of Christ's Church in order that the Church might understand something of human weakness and sin and bear to the millions of its souls the gospel of hope and the assurance of divine mercy. Fittingly then when Peter came to the end of his life he asked to be crucified not as Our Lord was with head upward, but with head downward to the earth. Our Lord called him the rock of his church and the rock was laid where it should be, deep within the roots of creation. Today on that very spot where the man of courage was crucified up-side-down there stands a mighty basilica. Around it in giant letters are the words of Christ: "Thou art Peter and upon this rock I will build my church."
In the example of Peter take courage and hope and realize with him that you only really know yourself when you look back at Christ piercing into our soul. This is the very essence of a retreat. Then with Peter will you understand what he knew so well: "If you had never sinned, you could never call Christ your savior."
Reverend William J. Martin received his doctoral degree in education from Ohio State University. He is now a retired priest of the Toledo Diocese and was pastor of two rural parishes. Fr. Martin is a former vocation director and seminary rector. His last article in HPR appeared in November 2005.
© Homiletic & Pastoral Review / Ignatius Press
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