The crew of the Battlestar could really use a victory. This episode comes near the end of the first season, and up until now the best our heroes have been able to do is narrowly escape annihilation. When they’re not escaping the Cylons, they’re at each other’s throats, or embroiled in a web of suspicion and distrust. It’s a miracle that they’re still alive, so a victory seems a lofty goal indeed. Victories in this series are so sweet, in my opinion, because they’re so elusive. The show goes through great lengths to keep you from expecting anything good to happen, so when it does there is a very real sense of joy involved – at least for me. This episode finally gives us such a victory, and our heroes exult in their accomplishment. As the music swells, it’s hard not to feel that joy.
Sometimes I feel like it’s amazing that the Church exists at all in this world. You’d think after all the external threats, infighting, name-calling, wariness, and tragic decisions that have been made in the name of Christianity, we’d be done for. Yet here I sit, after two thousand years of such activity, willing to consider myself a part of this entity with such a troubled past.
Why is that exactly? Some days, I honestly couldn’t tell you. Though I don’t think one can really make a case in scripture for being committed to Jesus but giving up on the Church, I can honestly say that there are days when I feel like joining that club (which, I guess, isn’t much of a club at all). But, as far as I can tell, being committed to Jesus means being committed to the Church. Think about when Jesus eats breakfast with the disciples after his resurrection. He asks Peter if he loves him, which Peter affirms, and then Jesus says, “Feed my sheep” (John 21). To Jesus, the affirmation of Peter’s love for him comes in the form of caring for the Church.
More than once I’ve heard people highlight the fact that Jesus asks Peter this question three times. Just as Peter denied Jesus three times, he now confesses him three times. But there’s something else that I find compelling about this interaction. Peter’s denial of Jesus is probably the biggest failure of his life. Several times in the gospels, he’s very vocal about his commitment to Jesus, even if that means dying, but when he’s finally faced with the choice to die beside his friend and teacher or save his own neck, he chooses the latter. So why does Jesus bring up Peter’s failure? Why highlight this defeat? I believe that Jesus highlights this defeat not only to bring healing but also to offer something that seems unattainable at this point: victory. Peter’s great defeat doesn’t get the final word on his identity, there’s a chance for redemption.
The great hope that we have as Christians is that in every situation there is a chance for victory even when the rest of the world can only see defeat. I recently received two emails from a friend of mine who is a missionary in Africa. The first was informing me that a friend of his had become extremely ill after a local witch doctor put a curse on his house, and my friend asked us to pray for this man’s health. The second email, which came about a week later, began by saying something to the effect of “Praise God, my friend’s suffering has passed!” I immediately assumed that the illness had subsided, but as I read on I realized that my friend’s colleague had died. What seemed to me like a clear defeat was, in my friend’s eyes, a victory. Even death, the ultimate defeat for humanity, becomes a victory in light of the gospel. So it makes complete sense that the story of the Gospel climaxes at the exact point where the story of most kingdoms ends: with its leader abandoned by his followers and killed by the soldiers of another nation.
Then comes the resurrection. The final blow transforms into the first buds of new life springing up from the ground. Every empire passes away but the Church persists, even when it falters. Why? Perhaps it is because we serve such a king as this, the kind that converts our defeats into victories. So we, like Peter, sit by the water still reeling from our failures, and Jesus offers us the chance to turn tragedy into triumph. Mysteriously this offer is linked with a commitment to the Church. Finally, because of this we cannot live for the same victories that the rest of the world longs for. Fame, wealth, strength, influence, and large numbers are not indicators that the Church is succeeding in its call. So what are the victories we live for? In short, I suppose it’s the kind of victories that last longer than a moment, it’s the kind that go on for eternity.