“Bear in mind that our Lord’s patience means salvation, just as our dear brother Paul also wrote you with the wisdom that God gave him.” (2 Peter 3:15)
Every time I read this sentence written by Peter, my heart is warmed. This is not simply a passing mention of a colleague. The words “dear brother” carry the weight of long years together. Two men who stumbled, who sometimes clashed, and yet who knelt before the same gospel and became one — all of that is compressed into this brief expression.
In Galatians 2, we see that Peter and Paul once came into direct conflict in Antioch. When Peter had been eating with Gentile believers but quietly withdrew when the circumcision group arrived, Paul opposed him “to his face.” Because it happened in a public setting, it must have been no small humiliation for Peter. And yet it is that same Peter who, in his final letter, calls Paul “our dear brother.” What the gospel had been doing between these two men — this one phrase says it all.
Why a Despised Tax Collector’s Name Stands at the Top of the New Testament
When you open the New Testament, the first gospel you encounter is Matthew. We are so accustomed to this that we pass right over it — but in truth, it is a remarkable arrangement.
The Gospel of Mark was written on the basis of Peter’s eyewitness testimony. Early church tradition spoke of Mark as “Peter’s gospel.” Mark was Peter’s fellow worker, the one who put into writing what Peter proclaimed. Should not the Gospel of Mark — Peter’s gospel — stand at the very beginning of the New Testament? That would seem to be the natural order.
And yet the canonical arrangement gave that place to Matthew. Matthew was a tax collector. In Jewish society of that day, a tax collector was not merely someone in a lowly profession. He was seen as a traitor who wrung the lifeblood of his own people to hand over to Rome — a sinner among sinners. And yet the gospel written by that Matthew was placed before the gospel of the one regarded as the chief of the apostles.
The reason is simple. Matthew’s Gospel was the gospel written for the Jewish people. It was most fitting that Matthew, presenting Jesus as the fulfillment of the Old Testament, should open the door of the New Testament. The needs of the gospel outweighed the reputation of any person. The logic of God’s kingdom is different from the rankings of this world. It does not ask who is more famous, but who is needed in this place, right now. That spirit is embedded in this single arrangement.
Paul’s Companion Records Peter First
Luke was Paul’s man. He was the personal physician who accompanied Paul on his travels, the one who remained at his side even when Paul was imprisoned in Rome. In 2 Timothy 4:11, Paul writes, “Only Luke is with me.” That is how deep their bond was.
It is this same Luke who writes the book of Acts. Naturally, one might expect Paul’s story to come first. But Luke did not do that. He gives the entire first half of Acts over to Peter. The Pentecost sermon, the healing at the Beautiful Gate, Ananias and Sapphira, the conversion of Cornelius — Luke records Peter’s ministry, which he himself had not witnessed firsthand, accurately and completely, before moving on. Paul does not take center stage until chapter 13.
What a beautiful thing this is. A man who set aside the one he loved most, who recorded first what needed to be recorded first. In Luke’s pen there was a kind of self-emptying honesty.
Where Two Rivers Finally Meet
The book of Acts has twenty-eight chapters. At its very center, in chapter 15, the Jerusalem Council brings the two narrative streams of Peter and Paul to their confluence at last. In that council, heated with controversy over circumcision, Peter rises first to testify to God’s intent for the Gentiles (15:7–11), and then Paul and Barnabas report what God had done among the Gentiles (15:12).
It is like two rivers meeting. Jewish mission and Gentile mission, Jerusalem and Antioch, Peter’s ministry and Paul’s ministry — two rivers flowing from different sources come together in one place and form a greater, wider river. And that river has been flowing all the way down to us today.
This is what partnership in ministry looks like. It accomplishes far more than any one person could achieve alone. One river is precious in itself, but when two rivers meet, the gospel waters a far wider land.
The Weight Carried by the Words “Dear Brother”
Let us return to 2 Peter 3:15. In his final letter, Peter urges the believers: Read the letters Paul has written. The words he recorded with the wisdom given to him will hold your faith steady as you make your way through this difficult world.
He does not assert his own apostolic authority. He does not compete. Instead, he personally commends to the believers the letters of another apostle. In the words “our dear brother Paul” there is no envy, no comparison. There is only warm trust toward a fellow worker who ran the same race for the same gospel.
This is the culture that the gospel creates in a community. The people of Christ commend one another in this way. They introduce the other person’s ministry before their own name. They rejoice not in their own shining, but in the gospel spreading further.
In the arrangement of the canon, in the strokes of Luke’s pen, in the Jerusalem Council, and in Peter’s final greeting — the same spirit runs through it all. The beauty of putting others first, of rejoicing in one another’s ministry, of humbling oneself before the gospel.
Ministry is not a solitary endeavor. There was Peter, and there was Paul, and there was Matthew, and there was Luke. Each had a different personality and background, yet before the same gospel they were one. And it is that unity which produced the New Testament we hold in our hands today.
“Our dear brother Paul” — may we too become people who can speak of one another this way, and may we build communities where such words come naturally.
