The sword of Peter, the ear of Malchus, and wise zeal

The proclamation of the gospel is fraught with spiritual peril, especially when an interlocutor is immature or misinformed, and we ourselves are hardly replete with prudence. We are obliged to boldly account for our hope (1 Pt. 3:15), but lacking perfect judgment, we sometimes do more harm than good in expounding the faith. The matter is sublime, our deficiencies manifold. Truth can kill as easily as give life: like a sharp blade, it must be wielded with exceeding care.

An event from the passion of the Lord provides an opportunity to ponder the need for wise zeal (see Rom. 10:2): namely, Peter’s assault on Malchus.

The episode begins when the armed band arrives to arrest Jesus. Peter is sleeping (Mt. 26:40). The Master has urged him to watch, but his eyes are heavy (Mt. 26:38, Mk. 14:40). Had he exercised vigilance, he would have witnessed the Lord’s “loud cries and tears” (Heb. 5:7), perhaps discerning therein the mystery recently beheld: “This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” (Mt. 26:28). Instead, Peter indulges his drowsiness, forfeiting important graces.

Therefore, he wakes up ignorant and disoriented. Forgetful of the Lord’s doctrine, he springs forward in a fierce temper. Absurdly, he tries to prevent the redemption celebrated under sacred signs mere hours before. Swinging his sword, he takes off the ear of Malchus, servant of the high priest (Jn. 18:10).

The ear, note well. Faith comes from hearing. In the future, Peter will glorify Christ by planting the seed of eternal life in the ear of man (1 Pt. 1:23). But now, in the garden, he shames Christ by rashly destroying the very organ that receives said seed. He thereby hinders the work of salvation, which the Lord has just agonizingly set in motion.

Peter has done his damage. It is the Lord who salvages the situation. “No more of this,” says He (Lk. 22:51). And He touches Malchus, healing him (id.). Interestingly, as Christ corrects the course, Peter fades away. Next we see him, he is trailing Jesus “at a distance” (Mt. 26:58). Soon, he denies his Teacher – once, twice, thrice – eliciting the devastating gaze of Truth (Lk. 22:61). No longer are his eyes full of beclouding sleep, but the bright water of holy grief. “Those who sow in tears will reap with shouts of joy” (Ps. 126:5).

Is it not commendable that Peter interposes between the Lord and His assailants? No, the Lord is ever able to protect Himself. “Twelve legions of angels…” (Mt. 26:35). Moreover, Peter is motivated by a flawed notion of courage and a malformed conception of Christ’s honor; ironically, he therefore exhibits cowardice and disrespects his Master. A mighty stone of a man, he does not learn readily (see Mt. 16:21-23)–but, when finally he does, he learns deeply and lastingly (see 1 Pt. 2:21-25).

But, what of Malchus? He is a common type: one who suspects Christ, having absorbed the world’s myriad accusations against Him. He would silence Jesus, suppress Him. Being a servant, however, he operates not wholly under his own initiative, but is moved by another. Many, Malchus-like, are positioned against the Lord by forces unseen and scarcely understood. We must always have in view these vast structures and permeating powers, which subtly incline men to despise God (see Eph. 6:12).

It must be asked: How many times have we struck Malchus? We see Christ subject to attack. We are understandably upset. But we respond without availing ourselves of supernatural guidance. We operate in a human way, according to our own schemes and sentiments. We suppose ourselves to be brave and clever. We perceive everything under an earthly aspect. We leave neither time nor space for grace. Blind and impatient, we act unseasonably and inelegantly, gratifying ourselves rather than our neighbor. Invariably, we drag him from bad to worse, leaving him earless (so to speak), unable to hear the gospel.

It is easy for us to hurt, next to impossible for us to heal. Thankfully, God frequently deigns to cure wounds that we have foolishly inflicted, working in a most wonderful manner. Nevertheless, let us avoid the need for such remedial interventions, beseeching the Giver of gifts for heavenly wisdom, which is “first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, impartial and sincere” (Js. 3:17).

Then we will have zeal with wisdom, and our words will tend to bring forth life rather than death. Then we will capably wield the sword: not of steel but of spirit (Eph. 6:17). This sword will still be sharp. We will use its sharpness to prick, pierce, drain, excise. We may disturb and offend. But we will not, in fits of untrained fervor, gratuitously maim our neighbor, destroying those whom God dearly wishes to save, those for whom Christ died (Rom. 14:15).