A Monologue for Easter: The Rooster’s Crow
Another Way for week of April 7, 2017
A Monologue: The Rooster’s Crow
Me and my big mouth.
My mom always said I got it from Dad’s side. My dad always said I got it from Mom’s side. It doesn’t matter whose side I got it from, but my mouth could sure get me in trouble. You might know me as the disciple Peter, in the Bible.
But you have to understand, I didn’t really know then what I know now.
Even when I lucked out when Jesus asked who we thought he really was and I responded, “You are the Christ!,” he praised my answer but I don’t think I really understood what I’d said. I mean I felt that I spoke the truth, but didn’t really grasp it. That’s why I messed up so soon right after, scolding our master for talking about how he was going to be killed and he rebuked me, “Get behind me, Satan.” That was the lowest I ever felt—until the crow of the cock.
But the really bad part was he said I was gonna do it. And if you’ve ever known someone like me, the worst thing you can do is tell me I’m going to react a certain way. He said we would all fall away and old big-mouth-Peter had to say, “Nope, not me.”
“I tell you the truth,” Jesus answered with a kind, knowing, motherly face, “that tonight before the rooster crows, you’ll disown me three times.”
And we all swore we never would, like a bunch of silly sheep.
Then we had that awful episode in the Garden—I mean, here was our best friend, and leader, who meant everything to us, and we all kept zonking out on him. It was like trying to keep awake in synagogue, and we felt so guilty but just couldn’t help it. (In our defense, he did keep a pretty demanding schedule.)
And then his arrest, and everything happened so fast, and our dream was just falling apart—it was like a nightmare, everything all confused, we didn’t know what was happening.
And then that servant girl by the fire. As soon as I saw her there watching me, I knew she’d start grilling me, and it would be all over town, and I just wanted to get her off my back. I said, “I don’t understand what you’re talking about!” And then someone said we sounded like we were from his part of the country and another said surely we were Jesus’ disciples.
“Man!” I swore. “I do not know that man!”
And then came the piercing crow of the cock.
The previous three years passed before my eyes like I was dying. I was dying inside. I thought of the day my brother and I first met Jesus. And the day he came to my mother-in-law’s house, and healed her! And the night we thought we were all dying on the lake, or the times we’d all end up at someone’s house and have those wonderful all-night talks around a fire.
The stories! What a way with words. And the way he put those Pharisees in their place—and anyone, really; even his family and friends, if the occasion called for it. A master of words. And kindness. His way with children. The mountain top with Elijah and Moses! That day at Caesarea Philippi. Sigh. The best three years of my life.
To deny all that, that was about as low as a friend could go. But then you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you? You’re better than that. But I’m so glad I didn’t do what Judas did. I was tempted though, you know, to do myself in rather than see the pained look in his eyes after my denial.
I’ll make it up to him. This big old mouth will make it up to him, or die trying. I will make it up to him. Just you see. Easter’s coming!
Biblical references: Matthew 16: verses 16 and 23; 26:34; Luke 22:54-62
Or do you think of his denial?
For a free booklet with six Lenten Conversations, including this monologue by Peter, download by clicking on the link: Lenten Conversations PDF Or send your name, address, and two U.S. postage stamps and I’ll mail you a copy in booklet form. Mail to Another Way Media, Box 363, Singers Glen, Va. 22850.
Another Way is a column by Melodie Davis, in syndication since 1987. She is the author of nine books, most recently Whatever Happened to Dinner. Another Way columns are posted at FindingHarmonyBlog.com a week after newspaper publication.