Anathema to Me

“[Peter] began to curse, and he swore an oath, ‘I do not know this man you are talking about.’” (Mk 14:71)
 
To curse, in Greek, is to anathematize: Let him be anathema to me!
 
But how could you live without him, Peter?  What would happen to you without the one who dwells at the center of your being?  If he were not, you would cease to be also.  If you try to live without him you will fall into ruin.  Perhaps you won’t realize it immediately.  It will creep up on you like an undiagnosed illness long ignored through wishful thinking.  You will go about your daily business with a smile on your face and dread in your heart.  You will waste away inside:
 
“Because I kept silent, my bones wasted away;
    I groaned all day long.
For day and night your hand was heavy upon me;
    my strength withered as in dry summer heat.” (Ps 32:3-4)
 
You said: “Even though I must die with you, I will not deny you” (Mk 14:31).  Now you have denied him three times, and with a curse.  But if you do not die with him, you will die by yourself, alone.  You will be anathema, without hope.
 
“If I say, ‘I will not mention him,
    or speak any more in his name,’
then within me there is something like a burning fire
    shut up in my bones;
I am weary with holding it in,
    and I cannot.” (Jer 20:9)
 
“And he broke down and wept.” (Mk 14:72)
 
Your tears save you, Peter.  Let your shame change you.  Your life will no longer be your own.