Do you ever have a moment, reading, studying, where the sky seems to split?
Okay we all know that in Gethsemane, Peter the fisherman drew a sword and sliced off the ear of a centurion come to arrest Jesus. And Jesus rebuked him and healed the centurion’s ear.
Why did a fisherman have a sword? What I’ve often read is that Peter was an Essene, and members of that sect always carried swords. But then, Jesus did exhort his disciples, if they had no swords, to sell their cloaks to buy one. They say, Lord, here are two swords! and he says: that is enough.
I’m reading Bernard Cornwell’s novel ( thanks SOOO much @jzdro for turning me on to him!) involving a quest to find this blade, fictitiously named La Malice. Peter’s sword.
What IS that sword?
It had a part to play, like Judas did? Someone had to betray, so the sacrifice could be consummated? Someone had to show arms, so the surrender could be shown voluntary?
It is extraordinary that other relics of the passion and crucifixion: the seamless garment, the spear, the cup—are so famous, so often counterfeited (I mean, they can only have been one of each, right?) but St Peter’s sword is relatively unimitated. Yes, it is reputed to exist, still: Poland has it.
That sword…it is just something to which I never gave a moment’s thought before, despite the myriad, myriad times I have heard the story, the bright blade of which has now flashed through the dusty mental landscape of my received knowledge.
Things like this turn me on.