I was an A student (mostly). When I got an assignment to write a paper on Edna St. Vincent Millay, I gave it my usual treatment: threw some sentences together the night before it was due, copied some stuff from the encyclopedia, handed it in, and waited for my grade. It was returned with a huge B- (in red ink, no less), along with “I’m disappointed in you. You can do much better.”

Busted. I know a B- is nothing to sneeze at, but it was the disappointment factor that stung. I’d let my teacher down. There’s no guilt like that which you bring on yourself. If I was that torn up over an English paper, I can only imagine the guilt Peter poured on himself when he denied Jesus.

I love how the four Gospels corroborate each other, yet offer differing insights on the events that took place in our Lord’s 33 years here on earth. Matthew portrays Jesus as king; Mark, as servant; Luke, as the son of man; and John, as the son of God. Each records Jesus’ warning that Peter would deny him, and each accounts the actual denial, but only Luke includes “the look.” In Luke 22:61 we read, “And the Lord turned, and looked upon Peter …” (King James Version).

I used to think “the look” was one of disappointment; now I realize it was the look of unconditional love. How great a love did it take for God to sacrifice his son on that cross for all mankind? I’ve often felt I could easily give up my life if I knew it would save a friend or family member, but could I give up my child? This hit too close to home when my son was deployed to Iraq. Even though I know his future is secure in heaven, I wasn’t ready for a life without him. Yet Jesus willingly gave himself. “He could’ve called ten thousand angels …” He could’ve come down from the cross, but he didn’t.

In 2 Peter 3:9 we see, “The Lord is … longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance” (KJV). Not “should” as in “ought to,” but “should” as in “might” – the potential is ours, alone. And not the repentance associated with regret or sorrow. In this instance, the Greek word metanoeo, which, according to the International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, means “to change the opinion or purpose with regard to sin.” In essence, God doesn’t want to lose any one of us, but leaves the decision to believe or not to believe up to each one of us. We’re the only ones who can make that choice.

In the March 2008 issue of Our Daily Bread, Philip Yancey writes, “God’s terrible insistence on human freedom is so absolute that He granted us the power to live as though He does not exist.” One look at the world today would suggest that a lot of people are testing this principle.

This became overwhelmingly apparent to me awhile ago when I received a letter in response to one of my columns. It read, in part, “You wrote a letter about your religious beliefs (but not, necessarily, truths) in the BDN… You went public in telling everyone in parts of Maine that you have an exclusive pipeline to what you call god, and that the rest of us are deficient if we don’t buy into your ‘wisdom’ … ” An interesting interpretation of my writing and my faith.

As for the exclusive pipeline, my immediate thought was, “Well, yeah,” but that comes across as arrogant, because it’s not exclusively mine. Then I read Anne Graham Lotz’s response to a similar question put to her during a TV interview. She replied, “It’s not my plan, it’s God’s plan.” It’s that simple.

I remember my first Easter service away from home. It was at a little church in Great Works; the pastor, in his early 40s, was a nontraditional student at Bangor Theological Seminary. He was preaching on Isaiah 53:3, describing the beating Jesus was taking, how Jesus was so bruised as to be unrecognizable, and all of a sudden the pastor stopped speaking and started to cry. I’d never seen a grown man cry before, and this definitely wasn’t stage theatrics. After a few seconds of silence, he finished with, “And He did it for me. For me.” It was one of the most heartfelt sermons I’ve ever witnessed.

John 15:3 says: “Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.” Jesus did it for Peter; Jesus did it for you; and Jesus did it for me. That is the greatest love of all.

Brenda J. Norris is assistant Sunday school leader and choir director at the West Lubec Methodist Church. She may be reached at bdnreligion@bangordailynews.net. Voices is a weekly commentary by Maine people who explore issues affecting spirituality and religious life.