How Do You Repair Relationships That Break When You Come Out?

Today’s reflection is from Bondings 2.0 contributor Ariell Watson Simon, whose brief bio and previous posts can be found here.

Today’s liturgical readings for the Third Sunday of Easter can be found here.

Today’s gospel reading tells the story of two friends finding their way back to each other after betrayal. Jesus and Peter’s reconciliation offers hope for the restoration of our own relationships.

The Passion and Resurrection were, in many ways, Jesus’ public “coming out.” Think about it: he had already told close friends the truth about himself, but he had done so cautiously, on his own terms, and often in coded language. Suddenly, his identity was being debated publicly. When Pilate asked him if the rumors were true, he did not deny them. And so, Jesus’s most personal truth was dragged through the court of public opinion and made the butt of jokes. Does this sound familiar? “Outing” is not new; it far predates tabloid press or social media. Jesus knew firsthand the pain of personal truths being exposed for public ridicule.

Jesus drew comfort from the few people who stuck by him, who were true allies when he needed them most. But not everyone who loved Jesus rose to the challenge of allyship. Peter, who had prided himself on being Jesus’s #1 supporter, distanced himself when popular opinion soured. He chose self-protection over solidarity.

When I read about Peter’s betrayal of Jesus, I think about the loved ones who disappeared from my life when I came out. Some were sworn lifelong friends who reacted poorly. Others expressed support for me in private, but distanced themselves publicly because they were afraid of how associating with me would affect their reputation. 

If I’m honest with myself, I have been the betrayer, too. As a cis-gender person, it’s all too easy for me to scroll past headlines about transphobia. Fear tells me to keep my head down and protect myself, rather than to stand in solidarity with my trans siblings. Perhaps Peter was thinking to himself “I can’t save Jesus anyway, so I might as well save myself.” When LGBTQ+ rights come under attack, it’s tempting to say, like Peter did, “I’m not with [them] – I don’t even know them.”

I suspect that each of us has been the betrayer, and each of us has been betrayed. How did Jesus, who preached forgiveness, rebuild his broken friendship? Jesus does not gloss over Peter’s betrayal or let him off the hook. He poses tough questions, and he asks for proof of Peter’s change of heart. 

Presumably Jesus had already forgiven Peter, but he makes clear that trust must be earned. So he asks Peter three times to affirm his love – one for each of the original denials. He also questions, “Do you love me more than these?” While there is longstanding scholarly debate over what this question means, I think it’s most likely that Jesus is asking “Do you love me more than you love these other things, like comfort, security, and stability – the things that caused you to deny me before?” And when Peter adamantly affirms his love, Jesus responds by telling him how to prove it: “Feed my sheep.” Both of them know that talk is cheap. Real love is shown through actions. “If you love me, do something about it,” Jesus seems to say. 

Today’s Gospel is only the beginning of this reconciliation process. Flip ahead a page or two to the book of Acts for the rest of the story: Peter proving his love for Jesus as a courageous witness before all of Jerusalem, and as a wise leader of the Christian community. 

If we are going to rebuild relationships after betrayal, it will take time. Perhaps we should adopt Jesus’s model as a rule of thumb: for every denial, it will take at least one affirmation, backed up by actions, to reestablish trust. However, if the person in Peter’s shoes does not take responsibility for the harm they have caused, has not experienced a change of heart, or is unwilling to courageously and publicly change their stance, then this type of reconciliation is impossible. 

But what about those people in our lives who want to do better? What potential allies might we be holding at arm’s length because of things they did or said years ago, before experiencing a conversion of heart? Surely, Jesus would have been justified in cutting Peter out of his life. Their story could have ended there.

Author Tamim Ansary, in his memoir West of Kabul, East of New York, reflects, “Even the past can change, depending on what happens next–or at least the meaning of the past can change, which is what counts. Broken friendships can turn out to have been everlasting.”

Indeed, what happened between Jesus and Peter on the shore that morning changed the meaning of their past. Today, we remember Peter as an Apostle, the rock of the Church, who was loyal to Jesus even to his death as a martyr. In light of the rest of the story, Peter’s betrayal is a mere footnote to his legacy. 

Thankfully, Jesus saw more in Peter than his cowardly betrayal. Thankfully, God sees more in all of us. May we have the imagination, courage, and trust to see it in each other.

—Ariell Watson Simon, New Ways Ministry, May 4, 2025