Looking into a lighted mirror

I can't remember if we were in Vail or Grand Junction. I well remember the hotel elevator.

It was time once again for the annual state convention of the Colorado School Food Service Association, and I was in great company. We were on our way to dinner in our Sunday best, and when we boarded the mirrored elevator I exclaimed, "We look great!"

We did. Not to take anything away from my companions, who had no doubt taken great pains to look their best, as had I, but the lighting in that elevator was perfect. It had just the right amount of softness and a somewhat rosy hue, transforming our efforts into picture perfect results. Everyone agreed. We looked great! No one wanted to leave the elevator.

It was an illusion.

Peter suffered from a similar illusion. When Jesus foretold his imminent denial, he was adamant in his own defense.

"But Peter insisted emphatically, 'Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.' And all the others said the same." (Mark 14:31)

My heart goes out to Peter. Alas, I know him too well. Alas, I am too like him. And even more so, I fear a similar fate. Mere hours after Jesus' words, Peter discovers the truth. He spoke in self-defense. He spoke in arrogance. He thought too highly of himself. And when he learned the truth, he went away, weeping.

We fall easily into the same trap of self-preservation ourselves. In fact it is so common, there's even a name for it. It is called denial.

We blind ourselves to the reality of our fallen human nature. It's understandable. We look in the mirror every morning. We need to see someone there that we can live with. Because if we saw the truth, we would be overwhelmed by the weight of our sins, and no doubt would, like Peter, go away, weeping.

So, we paint for ourselves a different picture. We rationalize, we justify, we blame -- all in an effort to support the illusion.

I was in my mid-30s when I boarded that rose-tinted elevator. It would certainly take more than clever lighting today to achieve the same result.

So it is with our illusions. My mom once said, "The only problem with getting older is I have more to regret." The longer we live, the heavier the weight.

Peter was forced to look at himself and see the truth on that long ago night in the courtyard of the high priest.

One day each one of us will also face the truth of who we are.

What will an honest look in the mirror reveal?

An adulterer?

A thief?

A tale-bearer who glories in the downfall of others?

An idolater who loves money more than life?

Hands stained with innocent blood?

Be assured, there is a category for everyone and many of us qualify in more than one, especially when we factor in the admonitions from our Lord during the Sermon on the Mount. He certainly raised the standard, equating the thought with the act itself. And so the chains of sin and death grow weighty, the honest look revealing a truth we cannot bear to face, and we begin to weep.

But do not despair. Look at the truth fearlessly. There is a remedy.

It was for this he came. He knew the weight of Peter's denial, yet he met him on the beach and served him breakfast mere days later.

He knows the weight of our sin-guilt, and bore it to the cross. We have only to acknowledge the truth and turn, not away, but toward him, where we find what Peter found. Forgiveness. And an invitation to a feast that will rival any served on earth.

"For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him." John 3:17 (NIV)

Things you won't see in heaven:

lightbulbs