At the centre of the Easter story is an unforgettable image of God’s mercy: the two criminals on either side of Jesus, dying on a cross. The one who turned to the Lord and asked for forgiveness was saved, in spite of his sins; the one who mocked him with his last breath was damned

During Holy Week, Christians will read again the great story of Peter – how he pulls a knife on one of the temple guards and shortly afterwards, in one of the most heart-breaking moments in the Bible, denies Jesus three times. Peter is drained and frightened, blustering and swearing like a cornered drunk. The detail that it is his Galilean accent that gives him away has always stayed in my mind. In the days of fear that followed Christ’s execution he must have been carrying an extra burden of shame.

He doesn’t mean to betray Jesus, but he does.

Peter is like all of us, falling into unintentional sin, unintentionally creating pain.

Any of us could be Peter. In an increasingly connected world, we hurt without meaning to and it’s easy to be hurt without knowing whom to blame. One ill-considered tweet can be retweeted and retweeted to generate blame-storms that destroy lives.