Out of the hundreds of messages I heard in chapel and Sundays services while in college forty-plus years ago, I only remember three.
I know the other messages, as well as room, prayer group, and class devotions, nourished me spiritually, just like physical meals nourished my body whether I remember them or not.
But one of these three most memorable messages was about failure. I can’t remember the specific points the speaker made, but the gist was that God can use failure in your life.
That was news to me, but good news which I really needed to hear.
I’m not sure why I was so driven to excel academically. My mom was intelligent but said she graduated by “the skin of her teeth.” My father quit high school to join the military before the Korean conflict. So neither of them pressured me to live up to a familial ideal. But perhaps their praise of good report cards and my grade-school teachers’ gold stars motivated me to keep earning those rewards. Or maybe my naturally quiet, studious, analytical nature and total lack of athletic ability bent me towards books rather than the kickball field.
At any rate, until college, I was a mostly A student, with a smattering of B’s, an occasional C, and one devastating D (in third grade handwriting).
College was a different ball game. I understood the material, but I didn’t know how to use my time well. Consequently, assignments got turned in late or partially finished, and grades were marked down.
I wasn’t technically failing. But I had a C average, which felt like failure to me. I even had a D in a major class (Food Prep, of all things, though my family has not complained about my cooking and they all appear well-nourished). I had to take another class in my major to replace the one I made a D in.
To do my best, to work full tilt, and still not get things in on time was failing miserably in my book.
So I was at a pretty low point when I heard this message on failure, and I was greatly ministered to by it.*
Of course, since then, I’ve learned there are worse failures than poor (or “average”) grades. I have failed to love as I should. I’ve failed to share Christ as I should. I have opened my mouth and failed to open it at the wrong times. I have been judgemental. I have lost my temper.
Though I can’t remember the specific points of that long-ago message, our pastor’s recent sermon about Peter’s denial reminded me of some lessons from failure. But Peter had more than one failure.
Dear Peter. You have to love the guy. He was so earnest, and he wanted to do right. But his speak first, think later impulsiveness combined with a lack of full understanding got him into trouble.
Just after feeding the 5,000, Jesus sent the disciples ahead in a boat while He dismissed the crowds and prayed. Then Jesus walked on the water to the disciples, who were struggling in a storm. Peter called out, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” Jesus did, so Peter did. Peter was doing fine until he took his eyes of Jesus and became afraid. Then he began to sink until Jesus saved him.
Later, just after Peter declared that Jesus was the Christ, the long-awaited Messiah (Matthew 16:13-20), Jesus began to talk about going to Jerusalem and facing suffering, persecution, and death. That didn’t fit with Peter’s idea of what the Messiah was going to do. “Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him, saying, ‘Far be it from you, Lord! This shall never happen to you.’ But he turned and said to Peter, ‘Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.'”(Matthew 16:21-23).
Imagine, rebuking Jesus! We might think we’ve never done that. But have we argued with Him, or fussed that things weren’t happening as we thought and expected they should?
Later, just after the last supper, Jesus foretold that the disciples would fall away and be scattered that very night (Matthew 26:31-32). But Peter staunchly disagreed and asserted, “Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away.” Jesus said Peter would deny Him three times. Peter again argued, “Even if I must die with you, I will not deny you!” (verses 33-35).
Then, as you know, Peter did deny knowing Jesus three times.
Before that, though, when Judas and the chief priests and elders came to arrest Jesus, Peter made good on his promise to defend Jesus. He whipped out his sword and cut off a man’s ear. Jesus rebuked Peter, told him to put his sword away, said His Father could defend Him if needed, but these things must happen (Matthew 26:47-56).
Later, after Jesus’ death, Peter and some of the other disciples went fishing. Maybe they just didn’t know what to do with themselves, or they needed a break from the intensity of the last few days. Maybe their failures, confusion, and the loss of their beloved leader caused them to go back to something that was familiar, something they knew how to do.
But this endeavor failed as well. They caught nothing all night–until Jesus came and told them to let down their nets on the other side of the boat. Then they caught so much, they couldn’t haul it in (John 21:1-8).
Jesus prepared breakfast for them and then had a special session with Peter. He asked Peter three times if he loved him more than the rest, as he had professed. The first two times, Jesus used the word agape for love, the Christlike, self-sacrificing love. Peter responded twice that he loved Jesus with philos, a brotherly love. The third time Jesus asked if Peter loved Him, He uses philos. “Do you even really loved me like a brother, Peter?” (John 21:15-19).
By this time, Peter has no more confidence in himself, no bravado, no impulsive promises.
But it’s at this very point when Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.” I love what Shiao Chong said here: “Therefore, despite Peter’s honest admission that he did not love Jesus sacrificially—at least not then—Jesus still commissioned him to feed and care for the spiritual flock. This was Christ’s grace to Peter. His prophecy concerning Peter’s martyrdom (vs. 18-19) suggests that though Peter on that morning might not have loved Christ sacrificially or unconditionally, he would grow to love Christ even to the point of death.”
So what can we learn from Peter’s, and our own, failures?
Humility. There’s nothing like falling on our faces to show us we don’t have the knowledge, wisdom, or power we thought we did.
Course correction. Sometimes we’re following our own agendas rather than God’s. Failures cause us to examine ourselves, look to Him, and ask His direction.
You can fail where you are strong as well as where you’re weak. Peter was a professional fisherman, yet twice in the gospels he had no catch. He had great zeal, but it vanished when he denied Christ. “Therefore let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Corinthians 10:12).
The end of ourselves. It was when Peter got to this place that Jesus encouraged him with hope for the future.
Reliance on God. Failure reminds us just how much we need to depend on Him, not ourselves.
The need to keep our eyes on Jesus. Storms will come, waves will threaten. If we look at them, we’ll fall. But when we keep our eyes on Him, we can do His will.
God isn’t done with us. Failure can make us feel like everything is over, we’ve blown it, and God is disgusted with us. But no. He is gracious, merciful, longsuffering, ready to forgive. He gave Peter a ministry even though (or maybe because) Peter had no confidence in himself any more.
Failure is part of growth. Look how often a baby falls in learning to walk. We’ll fail many times in our Christian walk, but if we keep in God’s Word, relying on His power and grace, we’ll make progress. Look at the difference between Peter and John in the gospels vs. the book of Acts and the letters they eventually wrote.
God’s love is hopeful. Even when we’ve confessed our sins to the Lord, and we know we’re forgiven, we feel like He must still be displeased with us. 1 Corinthians 13:7 says “Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.” One former pastor said “hopes” there means “cherishes confident expectations.” “He who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ” (Philippians 1:6).
God loves us like a father. “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the Lord shows compassion to those who fear him. For he knows our frame;
he remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:13-14).
Failure isn’t the end. “The righteous falls seven times and rises again” (Proverbs 24:16). If we come humbly to God, He’ll forgive us, strengthen us, and help us depend on Himself.
Have you experienced failure? What helped you get back up and start again?
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