Heat Waves and the Weight of Guilt

I like to think I have a knack for sympathizing with a wide range of opinions and lifestyles. But there is one statement that I hear occasionally that I will never be able to understand:  “I love summers in New Jersey!” Heat and humidity are the banes of my existence, as anyone acquainted with me knows. The longer the summer marches on relentlessly, the more my brain feels like mush. By the end of August, my concentration skills have devolved to those of a labrador puppy (but much less excitable), with a reaction time similar to a nonagenarian's. Oh yeah, and the sweat.

On the second day of last week's heat wave, I was lying in bed struggling to get up so I could write a blog entry. Writing was the last thing I felt like doing. Sleep seemed much more preferable, but even that was nearly impossible because of the afternoon heat. While I slowly tapped into my meager reserves of willpower, a few verses from a psalm suddenly popped into my head:  “When I declared not my sin, my body wasted away through my groaning all day long. For day and night thy hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer.” (32:3-4) It's rare for me to have Bible verses come unbidden like that, but it was from a psalm that I had memorized a few years ago. I guess my mind decided to make the obvious connection between my lethargic mood and the verse. 

I was struck by how apt the Psalmist's analogy is, how similar the oppressive heat of the summer is to the heavy weight our guilt and regrets can sometimes put on us. It becomes harder to breathe, to clear our minds and regain a sense of peace. The bottled-up pressure of our mistakes and problems can make us feel like a shadow of our normal selves. Like a New Jersey heat wave, it's not easy to see an end to our guilt and unease when we're in the middle of them. We wonder how our relationship with God and others can be fixed. We want to believe that things will be as good as they were before, but this can seem impossible to us. 

A few minutes after I remembered the psalm verses, I began to think of the apostle Peter. In spite of Jesus' warning to Peter that all of his disciples would run away in fear for their lives, Peter thought that he would have the strength to stand with his teacher no matter what happened. “Though they all fall away because of you,” he told Jesus, “I will never fall away.” (Matt. 26:33) Even after Jesus tells him that he will deny him three times, Peter sticks to his declaration that he is willing to die for Jesus rather than deny him. By the end of that night, Peter's situation seemed hopeless. All was lost. Not only was his Master probably going to be executed, but Peter had failed miserably in his promise to stand by Jesus' side and never abandon him. Instead, he had fled like the other disciples and denied that he even knew the man who had become the center of his life. With Jesus now arrested, he would never be able to apologize, never make amends, never make things right. The three wondrous years he had spent with Jesus and the disciples had come to a sudden and tragic end. 

By the end of the next day, his greatest fear had came to pass:  Jesus had died a painful death. How could he ever be free of his guilt and regrets, and stop thinking of “what if situations” that might have kept Jesus alive and well? Peter must have felt like his body and spirit were wasting away, that the hand of God was on him, judging him for the terrible betrayal he had committed against his Master. The situation was certainly improved because of Jesus' resurrection. But as miraculous and amazing as Jesus' first two appearances to his disciples must have been, I don't think Peter's heat wave was yet broken. His guilt was still there, his denial of Jesus making him feel like he was outside the bounds of forgiveness. 

Only during the third appearance would Peter find true relief. On the shore of Lake Tiberias, Jesus shared a breakfast with some of his followers. He used a charcoal fire to cook the fish and bread. I believe that this was a purposeful choice. The fire in the high priest's courtyard where Peter had denied his Master had been a charcoal fire. The smell of it must have evoked strong memories for Peter. Only by making that night fresh in Peter's mind could Jesus bring about true reconciliation between the two of them. After eating, Jesus asked Peter three times if he loved him. Peter became more upset after each questioning, perhaps without realizing that Jesus was trying to break away the layers of guilt that encased Peter's heart. But Jesus was doing more than forgiving him. He was also giving him a mission, a life purpose, an opportunity to make amends and do God's will on Earth. Peter was charged with feeding Jesus' lambs and tending his sheep, with being a force for good in the world and spreading the good news that Jesus is King. 

All things are temporary. This includes heat waves of both the natural and spiritual varieties, in spite of how permanent and irreversible they may seem at the time. Strong summer heat/guilt can bear down on us for weeks at a time, sapping our energy and willpower. But that pressure will always be lifted. Like Peter, we can emerge from our heat waves feeling reinvigorated and full of purpose and conviction.