Wilderness Wanderings

"I love you, O Lord, my strength" (Psalm 18:1).

The opening phrase of Psalm 18 may suggest that this will be a nice, gentle psalm. It is anything but. It is filled with bold colours, powerful metaphors, haunting images, and violent movements.

John Calvin wrote that the creation is the "theatre of God's glory." I wonder if this psalm inspired that phrase. David, having spent his life shepherding sheep, hiding in caves, and defeating lions, bears and enemy soldiers knows a thing or two about this creation. That intimate knowledge fashions his prayer.

Let's take a brief look.

In the first movement God is a rock, fortress, deliverer, refuge, stronghold. But wait a moment. These images of mountain strongholds are all preceded with a pronoun. David says, "The Lord is my..." I suggest that we ought to follow David's example. Find the strongest elements of God's creation to describe what God is to us. This may be a new form of prayer for some of us, but such practices tend to nourish the soul.

In the second movement, David uses creation metaphors to describe how he almost dies: cords of death, torrents of destruction, snares of death. Have you ever dared to use such images to describe a situation in your life? In his distress, David cried out to God. God heard and came to the rescue.

Thus, the third movement imagines the creation coming apart before God's approach: trembles, quakes, shakes, smokes, parts. Here God does not come in light, but in the darkness of judgement. It's an edge of your seat horror show.

Then, suddenly, the imagery shifts. This horrifying, mountain shattering God reaches down, shepherd like, and picks up his trembling lamb from the cliff of disaster. As enemies surround him, cutting off his life, God pauses, picks him out of the fray and sets him in a safe place.

Why? This is who God is. He has an eye for those who seek Him. When the psalmist declares his own righteousness, he is not suggesting that he has never sinned. No. It's another way of saying, "As the deer pants for streams of water, so my soul pants for you, O God" (Psalm 42:1). God comes to those who seek Him; he is found by those who look for him.

Now God becomes the teacher: God is the master and the psalmist, the apprentice. Notice all that God does for and teaches to David. All this training is so that David can go out and deal with his enemies. David is not rescued to be spared the struggle. Rather, God uses David to deal with those who oppose Him. Remember, God's enemies are David's enemies.

David is amazed at how thoroughly God has carried him through the storm and how thoroughly God has raised him over his enemies. Thus, he praises God.

We too can pray this prayer with David. The New Testament tells the story of how Jesus Christ rescues us from Satan's dominion. And "having provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of Majesty in heaven" (Hebrews 1:3). He is the king who won the ultimate victory. The book of Acts tells stories of how his earliest followers learned to face opposition by first turning to God in prayer. When, as Christians, we face opposition, this psalm becomes our prayer.

Like David we begin, "I love you, O Lord, my strength"; and we finish, "The Lord lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted by God my Saviour (46).

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever he may send you.

May he guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm.

May your day end with rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you.

May you rest in his provision as he brings night, and then new dawn.

But Stephen, full of the Holy Spirit, looked up to heaven and saw the glory of God, and Jesus standing at the right hand of God. "Look," he said, "I see heaven open and the Son of Man standing at the right hand of God." At this they covered their ears and, yelling at the top of their voices, they all rushed at him, dragged him out of the city and began to stone him… While they were stoning him, Stephen prayed, "Lord Jesus, receive my spirit." Then he fell on his knees and cried out, "Lord, do not hold this sin against them." When he had said this, he fell asleep. (Acts 7:55-60)

Stephen seems to be in an entirely different world than his attackers. He is full of the Spirit, eyes wide open seeing a vision of God. He is praying, forgiving. This is in stark contrast with his attackers who had made themselves deaf: ears covered, rushing, yelling, dragging, stoning. At the crux of this clash between kingdoms, the contrast between the way of Christ and the way of the world is fully revealed.

The way of this world is revealed to be a way of sin and death. A way that shuts up our ears and our eyes so that we cannot see or hear God. A way of rush and noise and hot anger. A way of control that forces, drags away, and makes captives. A way that ultimately kills.

But the way of Christ is a different way—His is a way of life. He opens our eyes and ears and invites us to keep them open. He restores, heals, and sets captives free. He is the one who says come away with me and get rest for your souls. The one who says: "be still and know that I am God." He is the one who promises life in abundance and to whom we entrust ourselves for life everlasting.

Stephen had the eyes to see Jesus in the throne room of heaven, even as he faced the moment of his death. He had peace, humility, and love as he sought not vengeance—but forgiveness from God for his enemies. The picture Luke paints of Stephen is that of a person molded by the Spirit into the likeness of Christ through the humble, life-giving ways of Christ. That is: Stephen looked and sounded a lot like the Jesus who humbly submitted to death, giving up His spirit to the Father while praying: "forgive them" over his enemies.

There is a rushing, weary, worry that sits like a cloud of fog over so many of us. So many have aged, gotten sick, or died these past few years. So many relationships have been strained or have simply been marked by a falling out of touch. So many have left us, our church, or other communities where we knew them to belong. The fear and threat of division and diminishment hang heavy in the air. There's a great shifting and shuffling under foot, even while life has resumed its reckless pace of busyness.

In these clouded times where we bump the limits of what we can do, or feel, or worry about: the way, the voice, and the vision of Jesus reminds us that it's not time to cover our ears and start yelling. It's time instead to hear His call to open our eyes and to look and see Him still there on the throne. To open our ears and hear Him call out: come away with me and find rest and freedom for your heart and soul.

Only then, refreshed by Jesus' life in us can we begin to join Him in facing the death, fear, sadness, divisions, and hunger in our world with eyes and ears wide open once again.

How can a young person stay on the path of purity? By living according to your word. I seek you with all my heart; do not let me stray from your commands. I have hidden your word in my heart that I might not sin against you" (Psalm 119:9-11).

Christians spend an incredible number of resources on the Bible. More copies have been printed then any other book. It has been translated into more languages than any other piece of literature. Currently, we are evaluating the possibility of us AI to provide translations into rare languages. Its possible that more scholars study the Bible than any other academic discipline. After all, seminaries all over the globe are largely dedicated to helping students understand this ancient text and how to apply it to daily living.

Why do we spend so much effort on the Scriptures? The Belgic Confession tells us that Christians receive it "for the regulating, founding, and establishing of our faith" (4). More recently, the Contemporary Testimony, put it this way, "The Bible is the Word of God, the record and tool of his redeeming work. It is the Word of truth, breath of God, fully reliable in leading us to know God and to walk with Jesus Christ in new life" (32).

These beliefs concerning the Bible lead Christians to support the publishing and translating and studying of it. But arguably, much of this is done by only a few of us. Our text for today, presses in not towards the scholars, but the everyday Christian. Recently, I wrote a devotional on "how to finish well". Certainly, a worthwhile question. But a better one is, "how do we start well?" or "how do we make a mid-course adjustment?" After all, it is difficult to finish well, if we do not start heading towards such an exit somewhere along the way.

The first Christians began with devotion to the teachings of the apostles. Clearly, these teachings were about Jesus and how to follow him. This is where we begin (and end) the Christian journey: the Word. It is the Holy Spirit's main tool to connect and keep us connected to our Lord.

So somehow, as the Psalmist says, we need to get this Word into our hearts. Our eyes and ears are the vehicle to our hearts in this. I used to advocate that we ought to get lots and lots of the Bible into us, the more the merrier, as they say. But I have reconsidered. I might be better to use manageable bits. For each of us that will be different. Its like food, we can only handle so much food before our stomachs start to get sore.

The psalmists often refer to meditating on the Word. That means taking time to mull it over, digest it, to get back to stomach imagery. That is how it gets hidden in our hearts. It enters through our brains but needs to travel to our hearts. Like a highway or express way, we need to ensure that the traffic can flow.

Let me suggest that we do two things with the Word. First, we pray it back to God. This does not always include words on our part. It's like holding it in our hands and showing it back to God. We might ask questions of God about his word. What does this mean? Why did you use that image or word? Why did you have people do this or not do that? We might compare it to looking at a painting or photograph and really looking at the details. As we do this, we ought to expect God to respond. Usually, he doesn't respond audibly, but the Spirit does nudge our hearts and brains.

The second thing we ought to do with the Word is 'do something with it'. What does God want me/us to do with this Word? Do we need to think about him or ourselves differently? Do we need to alter our attitudes towards certain people? Do we need to change the way that we spend our money?

If we want to finish well, the best thing to do is to start well. As the first church was devoted to the Apostle's teaching, we need to be devoted to the Scriptures. If you're in the middle of your journey its not too late to change course.

Journey on with God's blessing,

May God himself, the God who makes everything holy and whole, make you holy and whole, put you together—spirit, soul, and body—and keep you fit for the coming of our Master, Jesus Christ. The One who called you is completely dependable. If he said it, he'll do it! The amazing grace of Jesus Christ be with you!

He said to them: "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth." (Acts 1:7-8)

The kind of witnesses Jesus is sending out are sent out with power.

Now we all have power of one sort or another. The power to choose our reactions and responses. The power to speak or remain silent; to act or refrain. The power to force and abuse, but also the power to respect boundaries and seek justice, to apologize and offer forgiveness, hospitality, and grace.

The power Jesus used and gives is not the sort that forces or abuses. Jesus' kingdom is not a kingdom of armies and boundary-transgressors, it is a kingdom ruled by the one who humbled Himself to death on a cross, letting someone else (namely: the Father) vindicate, raise, and enthrone Him. It is a kingdom that looks like a bit of yeast or some mustard seeds. Nothing formidable. Yet if you're not careful, yeast can permeate a whole batch of dough and mustard trees can grow through a garden. So moves the kingdom of God to the ends of the earth: through the use of seemingly benign witnesses.

People put up defenses when an army threatens, but most just shrug and say thanks when told, "I'll pray for you." Yet if witnesses are empowered by Jesus and the Spirit, the second is in fact, the larger threat to the status quo—the prayers, not the impressive show of force.

The one who empowers us to speak His word, work in His name, and come before Him in prayer is not subject to political turnover or polarized divisions. No: the kingdom of God is everywhere present at all times, as is our King. We're on home turf anywhere on this Earth: for it all belongs to the God who made it. We're always connected to the one who empowers us. He is with us, He is within us, and all the paths we tread belong to Him. We witnesses may not look like much, but the One we look to and the One we hopefully look more and more like is more than up to the job.

The power we have been given to witness and participate in the life of Jesus is not diminished when we walk out the door of the church building and scatter back into our daily lives. If anything, in the wilderness of God's wide world we find ourselves discovering anew that He is with us still—His unimpressively scattered flock. He empowers and encourages us to be witnesses where we are: offering the power we have received of prayer, forgiveness, hospitality, and grace in humility, even to the end of the age and even to the ends of the earth. Thanks be to the God who accomplishes this power of witness through His power at work in us.

A Sunday Sermon edition of Wilderness Wanderings! The text is James 3:1-12 from the New International Version of the Bible. Dive In discussion questions are below for further reflection!

To see this sermon in the context of the worship service it comes from, find it here on YouTube. Or, head to our website to connect with the worshiping community of Immanuel CRC: immanuelministries.ca

Dive In:

1. What two things does James say in Chapter 1 that influence our understanding of this passage?
2. Take some time this week to consider whether your tongue leans towards sweet or sour. Use the various things James says about the tongue for your reflection. Write them down as you listen to the sermon.
3. James warns us about the dangers of a sour tongue. It seems hardly necessary. And at first glance, he leaves little hope for sweetening. However, a closer reading of the text offers us some hope. What did you hear that gives you hope?

Then the Lord said to Moses, "Write down these words, for in accordance with these words I have made a covenant with you and with Israel." Moses was there with the Lord forty days and forty nights without eating bread or drinking water. And he wrote on the tablets the words of the covenant—the Ten Commandments. (Exodus 34:27-28)

Covenant and Law have much to do with the journey of the people through the desert and beyond. God's covenant and law gave both a relational and ethical shape to their life. But it took all 40 of those years to learn to live into these new life shapes.

The law was given and sealed by covenant promises in Exodus 19-31 where both God and the people made promises to each other. The people break their end of the covenant almost immediately with a golden calf. So, after some hard conversations, punishment, and mediation, God forgives His people and makes new promises to them. In chapter 34, the covenant is renewed and Moses hikes up the mountain again to get a new set of law tablets. But there's one significant difference. This time, the covenant is based solely on God's promises, not the people's obedience. Already here in Exodus, God knew the people needed the gift of a relationship that didn't rest on their own flaky obedience. And so instead, God rests the relationship solely on the secure foundation of His everlasting love and faithfulness.

Covenant is about relationship and through Exodus and beyond, so is the law. The law is given not as a codified set of statutes, but as part of the living narrative and history of the people with God. The law is given as a means of living together well with a holy God and as a community of His people: a way of keeping right relationship with one another and restoring that relationship when it breaks down.

The Covenant gave a safe container for learning to live ethically in relationship with God and one another. Because of the covenant promises of God—the people could trust that despite their failures, God's presence would remain. That was important because they would fail a lot. Yet God continued to journey with them, lead them, love them, and teach them. In the desert through 40 years of repetition, the people learned to live into the relational and ethical shape of the life God called them too. They had lots of practice. What else could they do in the desert but keep the rhythms of God's law?

Today, we call this repetitive practice of obedience discipleship. It is Learning to live into the relational and ethical shape of the life Jesus calls us to: the relationship He has established; the great commandment/great commission calling He has given.

How might you join this journey of discipleship more deeply? How might the Spirit already be shaping a relationally and ethically Jesus-shaped life within you? How and with whom might you enter more fully into the repetitive practices of confession and forgiveness, love and mercy?

"Hear me, Lord, my plea is just; listen to my cry. Hear my prayer—it does not rise from deceitful lips. Let my vindication come from you; may your eyes see what is right. Though you probe my heart, though you examine me at night and test me, you will find that I have planned no evil; my mouth has not transgressed. Though people tried to bribe me, I have kept myself from the ways of the violent through what your lips have commanded. My steps have held to your paths; my feet have not stumbled" (Psalm 17:1-5).

This is the prayer of a saint in anguish, a cry for help. If you find yourself in such a space, consider with me several aspects of this prayer to sustain you. If your life is filled with sunny skies, allow this psalm to help you pray for those in distress and to prepare for anguish that will surely come your way.

It is worth paying attention to the psalmist's enemies. They have settled in for a sustained attack. It is their intention to stay around long enough to see the psalmist humiliated. Moreover, they do not care what methods they use to achieve their goal. They have no intention on a fair fight. It seems that they have been accusing the psalmist of many wrongdoings. But he is innocent of them all. These are wicked people (13).

Many of us complain too quickly that life is unfair. Yet, in the Christian life, there is often unfair opposition. Jesus challenged his disciples to count the cost of following him. To stand for what is right and just can cost us our reputation and more. Evil does not like being exposed; it will attempt to extinguish the light.

Second, notice that the psalmist is convinced of his innocence. We should not imagine that he believes he has never sinned against God. Rather, that the accusations being hurled against him are untrue. Further, the psalmist allows that in his response to his enemies, he has done what is right. He has not treated his enemies like they have treated him.

Like Job, he is willing to have God Himself, adjudicate his case. He gives himself over to God for cross examination. He is sure that God will find his claims to be true. He has set his heart on righteousness and has done his utmost to remain righteous.

Here is an invitation to test our own hearts. What is it that we want? Success? Adulation from our peers? The psalmist proposes that the godly desire simply to do what is right. This is tough stuff. Jesus reminds us that we cannot serve two masters. Let us set our hearts on righteousness, so that when trouble comes, we are prepared to stay the course.

We should also reflect on how the psalmist perseveres in looking to God for justice. Obviously, the wait has already been extensive. When waiting it is always tempting to take matters into one's on hands. But our psalmist persists in waiting for God. Each day he hopes that God will answer, but so far nothing. Surely the question has arisen, why is God not doing anything?

This is a difficult psalm to deal with. We don't like waiting. We expect answers immediately, even from God. During our anxiety and impatience, we forget that Paul wrote, "we rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance character; character hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom He has given us" (Romans 5:3-5),

Here is reason to wait until God answers our prayers. Here are things that should be happening in us while we wait. These--perseverance, character, hope--are things to set our hearts on. The Holy Spirit will see that they mature in us.

As you journey on, let Jude's doxology encourage you:

To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy— to the only God our Savior be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord, before all ages, now and forevermore! Amen (Jude 24,25).

"Then the master called the servant in. 'You wicked servant,' he said, 'I canceled all that debt of yours because you begged me to. Shouldn't you have had mercy on your fellow servant just as I had on you?' In anger his master handed him over to the jailers to be tortured, until he should pay back all he owed. "This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart." (Matthew 18:32-35)

As noted Sunday in our sermon—one of the key elements of Christian obedience required of us is the act of forgiveness. That is: to forgive others as we ourselves have been forgiven by God. That is the thrust of the parable Jesus tells.

The Great King, who we assume to be God, forgives an infinitely massive debt owed by one of his servants. In turn, the servant goes out and demands—through personal violence and imprisonment—repayment of a much smaller debt from one of his fellow servants. We discover through his actions therefore, that the servant who the King forgave his debt was not in the least bit changed, transformed, or grateful for the gift he had just received.

We learn from this parable not just that we are required to forgive, but also that learning to forgive requires transformation. It is not our default state. There is nothing normal or intuitive about forgiveness. So unless we are transformed by the forgiveness we ourselves have received from God—we will fail in this test of obedience.

A question then. How mindful are you of God's forgiveness in your everyday life and interactions?

So many of us have harshly critical inner dialogues with ourselves, judging our every action—accurately or not. Others of us are constantly worried what people think of us for the things we say, do, or choose. Others simply feel burdened by the responsibilities and expectations that bear down on us from everywhere. Others still might bear the weight of something that we've done wrong—true sin in our lives. Whatever the case for you, how mindful are you in those moments of the Holy Spirit's constant, merciful nudging that whispers the words "forgiven in Christ" into your life? This is what it means to have one's identity in Christ. To be forgiven.

Becoming aware of God's constant, infinite work of forgiveness through Christ in our lives can free and unburden us from so much guilt, judgement, expectation, bitterness, anxiety, and stinginess of heart. It is impossible for that awareness and reception of God's forgiveness and mercy not to transform us into merciful and forgiving people. At least, that's what our church's theology says.

In Matthew's gospel, Jesus drives home the point with a warning. You must forgive as you have been forgiven. You must be transformed. This is central to what it means to be a Christian.

The good news, is that Jesus made the first move already by forgiving you. Will you receive it? Will you come to know what his forgiving mercy means in your daily life so that it can transform you? And will you likewise become an agent of God's forgiveness in this world? If so, you may just find that you're not the only one being transformed…

"Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, O God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your might to all who are to come" (Psalm 71:18).

I read about a Christian leader whose office walls are covered with pictures of those who, as he put it, "have finished strong". If I had such a wall, I might include pictures of Mother Teresa, C.S. Lewis, Eugene Peterson, and Rachel Held Evans

When I took a course on leadership some years ago, one of the units was on "finishing well." At times I ponder the question, "What does it mean to finish well?" With so many fallen Christian leaders, it appears more pressing to do what we can to indeed 'finish well'.

It is known that Billy Graham once said to his daughter, "All my life, I've been taught how to die, but no one ever taught me how to grow old." One thing I have observed. Growing old is not easy. Psalm 71 gives us a sage testimony that can sustain us along the way.

Interestingly, my first intensive experience with Psalm 71 was as a preaching text for a Cadet Sunday (Cadet's is a club for boys ages 9-13). I doubt it was the Cadets themselves which choose the text. The psalm was composed by a person well advanced in years, possibly dealing with a life ending disease. The poem leaves us with the impression that the psalmist was feeling shunted to the side, no longer useful.

How does this poem help us finish well? There is a deep and abiding confidence in God woven into this song. "But as for me, I will always have hope...Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter; you will restore my life again" (14, 20).

It is not uncommon for Christians to wonder if "their faith will stick". We worry about backsliding, and death will come upon us in a season of doubt or unbelief or ungodliness.

The psalmist has no such fear, and we don't need to have it either. We put too much stock in our own abilities or too much doubt in our lack of them. Here, the scripture reminds us that our hope is not in ourselves, but in our God. The God who calls us is the God who will keep us. Whatever life might hold, He will always be there with us.

Finishing well is not dependent only on us, but on God fulfilling His promise to be with us to the end. Our salvation is not dependent on our holiness but on the holiness of Jesus Christ. As He, in obedience to His Father, suffered and died for us, our redemption was secured.

But sometimes we doubt all of this. True. Then we need to pray Psalm 71. We join the psalmist in voicing our doubts and our disappointments. As we lay all of them out before the Lord, we discover that our hope increases, and our doubts begin to fade. The psalmist has seen many bitter troubles, but is confident that God will restore, "from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up. You will increase my honour and comfort me once more" (20-21).

As we pray through this psalm, we find within us a growing desire to witness to the goodness of God. It is in such praying that we remember the greatness of God and we are filled with a need to declare it to the next generation. As we meditate on the Lord and his promises, we often find ourselves, like the psalmist declaring, "My life will shout for joy when I sing praise to you—I whom you have delivered" (23).

Here, I think, is solid advice for growing old and finishing well: sing the praises of God in your heart, remembering what Jesus said, "Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks" (Luke 6:45).

As you journey on, go with the blessing of God:

May the peace of the Lord Christ go with you, wherever he may send you. May he guide you through the wilderness, protect you through the storm. May your day end with rejoicing at the wonders he has shown you. May you rest in his provision as he brings night, and then new dawn.

When Simon Peter saw this, he fell at Jesus' knees and said, "Go away from me, Lord; I am a sinful man!" For he and all his companions were astonished at the catch of fish they had taken, and so were James and John, the sons of Zebedee, Simon's partners. Then Jesus said to Simon, "Don't be afraid; from now on you will fish for people." So they pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him. (Luke 5:8-11)

Days pass one into another without much pomp or fanfare. It's just ordinary life: food, activity, sleep, some chit-chatting. Nothing special to see here. Certainly nothing that God would be interested in getting involved with. He deals with the big stuff, right? That's certainly what Peter thought.

He was just an ordinary guy—a fisherman—and he and his companions had just come up empty after a whole night of working the nets.

But then Jesus shows up. Jesus needs Peter's very ordinary boat and rowing skills so He can preach to a crowd. Then Jesus suggests another fishing trip: to the wrong place at the wrong time of day. But this time so many fish are caught that the boats began to sink—Peter had never seen anything like it! And in that moment, right there in the ordinary and perhaps even frustrating celebrity fishing trip Jesus had suckered them into, the Kingdom of God happened upon them.

The thin veneer of the ordinary was ripped back to reveal the Holy Son of God who had been sitting and working in their midst the whole time. Peter fell to Jesus' knees in confession. Somehow all that preaching Jesus did from the shore didn't do it for Peter: but this? Jesus stepped into the real, ordinary concerns of Peter's life—into the personal sphere of Peter's expertise and inadequacy—in order to reveal a work that Peter's practiced, master angler eyes could see and know immediately was nothing less than divine. So Peter fell to Jesus' knees.

Then Jesus said: "Don't be afraid, I still need your ordinary fishing skills." Ordinary Peter had been participating in some big holy mysteries all day without even knowing it—but now with the eyes to see it, his life would never be the same. He left everything to follow Jesus.

It's one thing to hear the word. It's another to see and experience the word made flesh in one's own life. That's why it's important to look for the places in your ordinary life where Jesus' salvation meets you.

Because under the thin veneer of all that ordinary everyday life, a Holy God is stirring about. It's never just fish, or work, or ordinary life. We might be ordinary sinful people, but God in Jesus has redeemed the sinful and put the ordinary to His use. God's holiness surges through the ordinary as our bodies become temples of the Holy Spirit, bread is given for the forgiveness of sins, and water marks us as God's own.

So keep your eyes peeled and your ears attentive. You never know where the thin veneer of your ordinary everyday life might give way to a vision of Jesus at work. But beware, because to realize that the sacred mysteries of Jesus' work are right there, stirring about within the ordinary of your life, might also mean that you, like Peter, can no longer be the same.