CAN I TRUST AGAIN?

By: Travis W. Lewis

This essay was originally published in REVEILLE newsletter in June, 2000. It has been edited for use on Golden Bowl Publications website July 14, 2024.

We instinctively trust those whose habits we judge to be founded upon wholesome principles. Technique is relatively unimportant when compared to trust, which is the fruit of our trustworthiness built over time. When trust is high, we communicate easily, effortlessly, instantaneously. Though we may often err, trust remains. When trust is low, communications are exhausting, time-consuming, ineffective, and inordinately difficult. Success on any plane of life depends on trust – trust extended from oneself to others as well as trust extended from others to us. When trust is betrayed, tendencies are to vow never to trust the betraying party again, or to “wait” until trust is re-earned. And trust, once lost, is usually very difficult and requires a longer period of time to rebuild. It also requires effort by both parties, though Satan is invariably busy in his attempt to prevent the redevelopment of any wholesome relationship. This can present quite a paradox. Since an established, mutual trust may be so valuable to one who would trust as well as to the trustee, hopefully this short essay will set some reader toward thought on whether trust can be restored toward one with whom it has been long lost.

Though trustworthiness concerning small matters over time tends to produce an increased level of trust in weightier matters, once we have vowed to never trust again, then the offending brother or sister never has the opportunity to rebuild trust, even in the smallest matters. And both the once betrayed and the trustee are poorer. While contemplating trust, clarity comes easier when we reference the pattern of Jesus. The same is so in most other ponderances during life. Surely, we can agree that He was, and remains, trustworthy. When tried, He invariably proves to be so. But how did He respond to those to whom he committed trust, only to experience their betrayal? The Apostle John, who passionately leaned on Jesus’ breast at Passover, in a few hours, would act the part of rank stranger. With another, Simon Peter, would be entrusted the virtual pastorate of the infant church, and on the eve of the crucifixion, out of his love for the Lord, would physically challenge the decree of Roman power. The same friend, however, would lose his resolve and even curse the very Son of God before next break of day.

With what agonizing feelings of betrayal would we have viewed such a response from our closest friends? And how natural the resulting thought, “How could I have trusted them in the first place?” Being Lord, Jesus knew beforehand their fleshly weakness. He warned of their present vulnerability to persecution and their lack of trustworthiness which, within only hours, would prove to be so. Yet, they were totally convinced that such would never occur. The essence of their argument was, “Not me, Lord. My love for you is too deep and our ties too strong to deny or forsake you.”

Yet, from this scene of the “last supper”, they soon departed into the night, as Jesus made His way to the Garden of Gethsemane to pray. While awaited by these same friends, He communed with the Father one final time before meeting the destiny for which He came. No sooner had His prayer concluded than appeared His captors, and the “friends”, who had considered themselves trustworthy, would soon vanish. All night He would spend – shackled and forsaken, without even a single witness to claim His innocence and with no further thought of escaping the death He knew was eminent.

At midmorning next day, Jesus was taken to Golgotha, where, though the very Son of God, He hang in shame as a public spectacle for the sins of even His closest friends. Before dark, He would be dead, then taken from this dreadful scene and laid in a tomb donated by a sympathizer. Still little sign of those from whom He had received the assurance, “You can trust me, Lord.”. (Reference John 21:1-17)

Three days and three nights would pass as His trusted friends must have been agonizing over how it had all ended — or so they thought. Simon Peter, who three days before had felt totally invincible, had bitterly repented of his infidelity. Can we doubt Peter’s desire for one more opportunity to be trusted by the Lord? All appeared lost. Jesus was dead. Three times Peter had denied the very One from whom he had witnessed countless miracles and unprecedented teaching. On his conscience must have weighed the thought of having actually cursed the Son of God. Can we imagine the anguish under which the apostle labored as he reminisced the exhilarating experience on the Mount of Transfiguration, along with other profound memories which so heavily upon his heart? Despondency surely settled progressively heavier in the heart of Simon Peter as thoughts of his failures were gradually erasing hope of ever again enjoying fellowship with the One at whose feet he yearned to sit just one more time. However, Peter was learning a lesson, one that would serve all of us well — that this side of death, there is hope for one with a truly penitent spirit!

Peter would go fishing, convinced he had forfeited his fondest hope of advancing the cause with which he had been so recently enthused. Tired from laboring through the night, little must Peter have expected what was about to take place as the morning broke. Suddenly, there He was on the shore! Startled, Peter turned to his partner John, only to hear John exclaim, “It’s the Lord!”. Though this is probably his third encounter with the Savior since the resurrection, for the first time, Peter is visibly touched by His presence. Excited & apparently with a feeling of appearing immodest, he quickly replaces the clothing removed under conditions which he thought no one would notice, and without attention to either those around him or to the great catch of fish, into the sea he thrusts himself, excitedly thrashing his way toward Jesus on the shore.

This was obviously the first time Peter realized that Jesus had forever removed the cloud of his humiliating denial. Over the seaside morning meal, making sure that Peter understood the commitment he was about to consummate, Jesus asked, “Do you love me?”. Three times the same question was asked with like answers, (paraphrased) “Lord, though I am guilty of atrocious sins, you know my repentance is whole and that I am truly ready to go with you all the way.”

At this point, Peter’s life changes, for now he realizes that Jesus is as anxious to forgive the saint as He is to set free the sinner. From this restoration of trust experience, Peter ceased to be a fisherman and became the evangelist he was destined to become. Only now, Peter was truly committed, and there would be no turning back. For, from this experience, he gained clear view of the depth of love that Jesus harbors for his own – that He is anxious to forgive upon full repentance – and to extend opportunity to rebuild trust within His kingdom.

Could our Christian experience be richer if we considered Jesus’ response to Peter’s repentance? It’ not the easier choice – yet it’s the one Jesus made, and we would do well to consider following suite.