Still The Greatest Story Ever Told

I can remember the moment it happened. Even to this day, it’s one of the most holy and life-seizing moments I have ever experienced. Every year, sometime during the Easter season, the memory will come back. When it does, I will be right back in the moment that it happened, trying to breathe deeply and slowly to get my breath back, blinking my eyes quickly so I wouldn’t be seen crying in front of this masterpiece.

I was fifteen years old, and my family was touring a museum in Spain. I love history and seeing the paintings and sculptures of the great masters was interesting and intriguing. I was meandering from classic work to classic work and then, I saw it. I was totally unprepared to be arrested so suddenly by the power of this painting. The painting is called, “The Tears of St. Peter.” There are several versions of this subject, painted by El Greco over the course of this life. I don’t know which version I saw. I just know I’ve never been able to forget it.

El Greco is depicting Peter in the moments after his denial of Jesus. His eyes are looking toward the sky and tears are welling up in them. If you look at the painting long enough, the tears seem to slowly roll down his cheeks and into his beard. You can see his anguish in the strained lines of his face. The keys of heaven and hell dangle from his arm. You can see the desperation of trying to get back what he’s lost in the twisted angle of his body.

This is what it feels like, I remember thinking, to have lost your relationship with Jesus when you denied Him and wondering if you’d ever get it back. The painting stopped me in my tracks. I have never gotten over that moment.

Now, what if someone gave me a palette of colors and a brush and asked me if I thought anything about the painting needed to be changed? Do Peter’s clothes need to be updated? Do his features need to be more intense? Even more sorrowful?

No! A thousand times no! For me to even touch this painting would be vandalism. As far as I’m concerned, the painting is perfect. The only thing I can do is show you the painting and let the painting do for you what it did for me. El Greco doesn’t need any help from me.

Neither does Matthew, Mark, Luke or John. The last week of Jesus’ life – the Triumphal Entry, the Last Supper, His arrest and crucifixion and His resurrection is the most powerful story the world has ever heard. To enhance it, to add anything or take anything away would be criminal, a type of spiritual vandalism.

I write this because there are pastors all over the world who are struggling with their Holy Week sermons, trying to come up with something creative, insightful and something that’s never been said before. We’ve been preaching the Easter story for over 2,000 years. It’s highly unlikely we’ll come up with something that hasn’t been said before.

And we don’t need to. The gospel message has been stopping the world in its tracks since the first time it was preached. I want my fellow pastors to relax. Take a deep breath. Stand in the middle of the story and then, invite your people to stand with you. Let the story do for them what it has done for you. El Greco doesn’t need any help from me. Matthew, Mark, Luke and John don’t need any help from us. Tell the story. Let it do its work. Jesus’ story has been stopping the world in its tracks for over 2,000 years. It will do it again this year if we let it.

This essay was first posted in Scot McKnight’s newsletter.