Peter, A Polar Bear Poster and the Power of a Moment

I own a poster of a cuddly polar bear cub. It has travelled with me from my childhood home in Salt Lake City to my dorm room in Alma and now hangs on our bedroom door in Princeton. Some photographer caught the cub ambling forward from a black background, head hanging slightly, dark button eyes barely lifted from the ground. A nameless graphic designer cropped the photo so that the youngling would dominate the image, then wrapped a short piece of text around the bear’s back. The text reads: “Help me to remember, Lord, that nothing’s gonna happen today that you and I can’t handle together.”

I love this poster. Yet I often pass by it without thought. Scurrying from place to place, event to event, sleep to meal to study to meal to sleep again, I rarely take time to absorb the poster’s message.

This morning, as I prepared to drive to a nearby testing center to take the GRE – a standardized test that graduate schools use to weed out less-qualified applicants from their often large pools of would-be Master and PhD students – I decided to empty out my wallet. If I didn’t do this periodically my front pocket would soon explode with old receipts, random business cards, spare change and other knick-knacks. This morning I pulled out a card from a kind lady from this last year’s Field Education Church who would hand out encouraging notes to anyone she thought needed them. The card read: “Help me to remember, Lord, that nothing’s gonna happen today that you and I can’t handle together.” I smiled at the note then walked to my door to stare at my poster.

A few minutes later I spent some time in devotion. I’ve been reading through the two-hit combo of Luke-Acts. This morning I arrived at the part of Luke’s narrative when Peter, de facto speaker for the fledgling church, is called to the house of a Gentile God-fearer named Cornelius. God-fearers were non-Jews who respected the Jewish religion and put their trust in the Jewish God. I have always been struck by Peter’s intense boldness in this passage. He goes against hundreds of years of Jewish law in order to follow God, spending time in table fellowship with people who were considered unclean. In the span of a chapter, his entire worldview changes. In less than twenty-four hours, he moves from questioning God’s command to eat unclean food to willingly sitting at table with unclean Gentiles.

I used to attribute Peter’s actions to his character as depicted in the gospels. Silly Peter, always leaping into situations way above his head. “Lord, call me out on the water,” “Lord I will never deny you,” “Lord, should we build a tent for you and Elijah and Moses?” None of these situations, however, called him to disobey his people’s law. These were situations of faith, but not necessarily of discomfort. In Acts, however, when God initially commands him in a dream to eat all manner of impure things, Peter does not jump in headfirst. “Surely not, Lord!” he cries in shock. Peter is uncomfortable. Luke adds in the detail that this scene happens three times, with God insisting that Peter “not call anything impure that God has made clean.” Three times. And even after the visions cease, Peter is left “wondering about the meaning of the dream.” Not decisively springing into action. Wondering. I would think the message was clear. God is doing a new thing. Things once unclean by their very nature are now pure because of God’s work. Yet, Peter, as any of us would be, is so enmeshed in his thirty-odd years of cultural understanding that he is left “wondering.”

When messengers from Cornelius come to his door, however, his pensive stubbornness disappears. He invites the men, Gentiles, into his home to “be his guests.” The next day he goes straight to Cornelius. He acknowledges to the Gentile that “it is against our law for a Jew to associate with a Gentile or visit him. But God has shown me that I should not call any man impure or unclean. So when I was sent for, I came without raising any objection.” He stubbornly resisted, tooth and claw, God’s command to eat in a dream. But when the time for real-life action arrive, he put doubts aside and came, as the NRSV puts it “without hesitation.”

He also came in humility. When Cornelius greets this head of the church, the Gentile, who was a centurion with some political power, falls at Peter’s feet in reverence. But Peter replies, “Stand up. I am only mortal.” After three years of travelling with Christ, Peter has learned humility.

I reflected on this passage as I drove to the testing site. Following God is never easy. In the coming months I will spend countless hours and hundreds of dollars to prepare applications for a handful of graduate institutions that might not even admit me. And if I don’t get into a PhD program, I have no firm plans. I will follow Sarah wherever she goes, as she has so willingly and supportively followed me. But as for what God wants for me, I have no idea. This morning’s test was just one of many hurdles I’ll be jumping over. And I’m no track-and-field star. (I blame the asthma and the stumpy legs.) For some reason, though, this hurdle loomed like a mountain. Old doubts and fears began to pick at me.

I listen to CDs in the car. I hate the radio. Too many ads. Recently, the CD has been Chris Rice’s Past the Edges. As I drove this morning, and fears began to drive me, the song “Power of a Moment” began playing.

What am I gonna be when I grow up?
How am I gonna make my mark in history?
And what are they gonna write about me when I'm gone?
These are the questions that shape the way I think about what matters
But I have no guarantee of my next heartbeat
And my world's too big to make a name for myself
And what if no one wants to read about me when I'm gone?
Seems to me that right now's the only moment that matters

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of a moment

In Your kingdom where the least is greatest
The weak are given strength and fools confound the wise
And forever brushes up against a moment's time
Leaving impressions and drawing me into what really matters

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of a moment

I get so distracted by my bigger schemes
Show me the importance of the simple things
Like a word, a seed, a thorn, a nail
And a cup of cold water

You know the number of my days
So come paint Your pictures on the canvas in my head
And come write Your wisdom on my heart
And teach me the power of a moment
The power of a moment, the power of a moment

It took Peter three times to get the message. It took me four.

Help me to remember, Lord, that nothing's gonna happen today that you and I can't handle together. I am only mortal. So when I was sent for, I came without hesitation. You know the number of my days, so come paint your pictures on the canvas in my head and come write your wisdom on my heart and teach me the power of a moment. Show me the importance of the simple things. In your kingdom where the least is greatest, the weak are given strength and fools confound the wise. Show me the importance of the simple things. Amen

Thanks for reading, faithful readers.