When Peter was stopped at the Temple Gate
By a crippled man begging for alms,
He did not give him a scriptural verse
Or quote him some wonderful psalms,
Peter was poor by earthly standards:
“Nor silver, nor gold have I!”
But “Such as I have” he gave to the man,
Power that none could deny!
The man had been lame from his mother’s womb,
He was carried and laid each day
At the gate of the temple “Beautiful”
To beg as men sped on their way,
From the dust he cried for a pittance to live,
Pleading with each passer-by,
Never expecting a man would have
The power to raise him on high.
He leaped up and hugged them, danced and praised God
As his feet and ankles gained strength,
But it was not what Peter was, he received
But “Such as he had!” at length:
“In the name of Jesus Christ!” he proclaimed,
“Rise up and walk!” said he,
It was not what he was, but Who Peter had,
That set this poor beggar man free.
“Such as I have!” – just four simple words!
But what a great story behind!
Peter had been up the mountain, seen God
And then e’en his Master denied.
He was called as a peasant, from a fisherman’s life
To leave all and follow the Christ,
Sat at the feet of Jesus Himself,
Learned to be faithful and wise.
Sent forth to preach the Gospel abroad,
Given power to heal sicknesses too,
Bid to go forth and cast out devils,
A calling but given to the few.
Yet with all this Peter’s far from prepared,
And when Jesus told them they’d fail,
Peter rose up, said he’d never deny Him,
But Jesus’s words would prevail.
“Though I should die with Thee, I’ll not deny Thee!”
Peter did proudly proclaim,
But that very same night before the cock crowed
He denied Him thrice to his shame:
He cursed and he swore that he knew not the Man
And then stunned – he stopped – the cock crowed!
And so, he went out and bitterly wept,
Floods of remorse overflowed.
O the anguish of soul as he saw what he’d done!
As Jesus was dragged to the Cross,
Beaten and spat on, cruelly despised,
Treated worse than a dog!
Bleeding and dying there – as he considered
Peter could not contain his grief,
He knew that he’d put his best friend there
To die at the side of a thief.
As the day wore on, as he thought of the Cross,
Of Jesus writhing in pain,
He knew that his Saviour was dying for his sin
And he wept again and again.
Then at three o’ clock in the afternoon,
As darkness covered the land,
Jesus cried aloud, “My God! My God!”
As a final reprimand!
Peter fled from the scene, could not look on his Lord,
He had lost his Saviour and friend,
He felt his own soul being plunged into hell
As he knew that this was the end.
He’d wish he’d died with Him, but now ‘twas too late,
O what? Just what had he done?
He’d lied, forsaken Him, when He needed Him most,
He died there alone did God’s Son.
“Why hast Thou forsaken Me?” Jesus cried,
Forsaken by Father and friends,
Peter later heard of that bitter cry,
This was the end of all ends.
He walked on alone, consumed by his grief,
Jesus cried with a loud voice again,
Then He gave up the ghost, Peter’s left on his own,
So wretched! – No writer can pen.
Desolate, despairing, dejected,
For a long time he’d stare into space,
Then he’d think of the ground stained red with His blood,
The price for the whole human race;
Stunned and confused, He’d stagger along
As night closed on this shameful day,
Where could he go? What could he do?
“For my sins I will sure have to pay!”
He thought of what Judas did for his crime,
A traitor to innocent blood,
He went out and hanged himself hours before
For betraying the true Son of God.
Peter thought of his brother, wished too he could die
And walked alone into the night,
His Saviour was murdered, forsaken by all,
In his gravest hour, left to his plight.
Guilt bowed him down as he walked aimlessly,
Shaking his head, he despaired,
He wept uncontrollably through that dark night,
Felt condemned, convicted, scared.
His words came ringing back in his ears:
“Though all men forsake Thee, not I!”
Now left with a void no other could fill,
As a wounded beast waiting to die!
He remembered the day that Jesus called him,
Remembered the wine from water,
Remembered five thousand fed from loaves and fish,
Remembered raising poor Jairus’s daughter,
Remembered the blind man made to see,
Remembered the dumb and the cripple made free,
Remembered the calming of the heaving sea,
Remembered the children on Jesus’s knee.
Remembered Jesus transfigured on the mountain,
Remembered God’s Voice, “This is My Beloved Son!”
Remembered seeing Moses and Elijah on that day,
Remembered falling down at such an awesome display,
Remembered seeing Lazarus raised from death to life,
Remembered Jesus healing the mother of his own wife,
Remembered Jesus’ words how He would take this bitter cup,
Remember how He said He’d die and in three days be raised up.
Peter was tortured the whole of that long night through,
A broken and hopeless man,
No longer bold, outspoken, brave,
But a coward that when needed, just ran.
But Jesus had not forgotten His friend,
He had risen and there by His tomb
Was a “young man” waiting to give them the news,
So, they fled with no time to lose.
“Go tell His disciples and Peter
That you’ll find him in Galilee!”
“Go tell His disciples and Peter!” –
He stressed that Peter should see,
His Saviour had not forgotten him,
For a moment brief He was gone,
But all the time He’d remembered him,
What mercy from God’s Only Son!
Peter couldn’t believe what they told him.
And ran to the tomb at the news,
There stooping down, saw the linen clothes,
He wondered, he pondered, he mused.
Confused, he turned back to his fishing,
All night, through the dark night he’d brood,
He returned in the morning with nothing,
A vain and an empty pursuit;
But there on the shore waited Jesus,
But they knew not that it was their Lord,
Jesus asked, “Have you caught?”
They said, “No! We have nought!”
Then John said to Peter, “’Tis the Lord!”
Peter could not bear to look on Jesus.
And cast himself into the sea,
In shame he felt so unworthy,
But Jesus called, “Come! Dine with Me!”
He told them to cast on the right side – they caught
One hundred fifty and three,
Great fish, so many, when they hadn’t caught any,
He prepared a coal fire for their tea.
After dining He turned to Peter,
And asked if he loved Him thrice,
Peter was grieved and felt guilty
At Jesus’ great sacrifice:
“Oh, Lord, Thou knowest all things,
Thou knowest that I love Thee. I do!”
Then Jesus gave him his commission:
“Feed my sheep!” repeated anew!
Feeling so empty, unworthy,
He’d look in his Master’s eyes,
How could He tell such a sinner
To go forth when Him he’d denied?
Such mercy, such love showered upon him,
In silence he’d bow down his head,
As the waves lapped the shore, he’d look out to sea
And wonder just what was ahead.
But all this was preparation
For the day he would raise up the lame,
He had to feel broken and hopeless,
A failure again and again.
One thing Peter knew that was certain,
One thing he would never forget,
To God alone be the glory
For the fish that he caught in his net.
He was emptied of self, absolutely,
But he found there deep planted within
A love for his Lord, so unshakeable
In spite of his failure and sin.
From that moment he found a new confidence:
The Gospel to go forth and preach,
He’d never forget he was nothing,
But with Jesus, the world he could reach.
He now knew he’d Jesus within him,
Jesus saw him when down at his worst,
He sent a messenger to find him,
When he felt so condemned, lost and cursed;
Such forgiveness! Such mercy restored him!
Endued him with power from on high,
“Nor silver, nor gold!” – No, nothing of self,
“But such as I have, give I!”
This secret he’d always remember.
Of how he’d deserted his Lord.
And while in his failure so hopeless,
In mercy God had him restored;
And when the lame man was a-leaping,
And men listened to his words with awe,
He’d secretly worship his Saviour,
Giving glory to God for it all.
He would never forget these moments,
The silence, the wonder, the awe,
To sit again with his Saviour,
He loved Him now – Oh, so much more!
To find this great gift of forgiveness
When he had offended Him so!
What mercy! What love! What a Saviour!
“Oh, that the world might now know!”
He needed the self knocking from him,
The arrogance, self-confidence, pride,
He had to see how unworthy
He was, for how he had lied:
A sinner in need of a Saviour,
This truth he ne’er could forget,
The “such as I have” was his Jesus –
His Jesus, his Saviour, his Head!
Peter Burt
GOSPEL CRUMBS 
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