There are times failure crushes us. There are times when failure rips out the very foundation of our lives. Such was the case a few years back when a young foreign student flunked out of the University of Michigan. He interpreted failure in school to be a failure in life. Shame precluded a return home and a student visa meant he could not live freely in this country. Shame drove him to disappear. For over a year he hid in the unused attic of an Ann Arbor church. Taking great pains to conceal himself, he quietly prowled around only at night, living off food and water from the church kitchen. He never left the building or spoke to a soul. No one ever suspected he was there. Then one day a slight mistake gave him away. Accidentally the young recluse made noise, the police were called, and he was discovered. In a way that poor dropout is like many believers who are ashamed because of spiritual defeat. Overwhelmed by a sense of failure or embarrassment, they hesitate to take a stand for the Savior and may even try to conceal the fact that they bear His name. Devastation from spiritual failure, whether that be a lapse in morality, a lie, a theft, spiritual lethargy, or just that sense of never living up to Christ’s demands while others seem to have it all together, has caused many to hid out, to remain quiet, to disappear from the scene. But failure does not necessitate a sentence of isolation; it does not demand that punishment be exacted. While our immediate response to sin is to hide, God’s response is to find. Our first parents, when they failed God’s command not to eat of the tree, hid from each other and God. But He sought them out. We still hide. We try to conceal our sin. When our kids misbehave, we send them to their rooms. But God does not want His people in hiding; He wants them to repent. Rather than hide failure, God places it in full view so that we might better avoid failure, but also know how to respond when we do. With stark honesty in our passage this morning we are told of Peter’s failure, His absolute denial of Christ. It is amazing that this story is even recorded for us, for Peter was the leading apostle of the early church. It would have been only natural for the spin doctors to cover-up, give plausible denials, to silence this man’s fall from grace. But it stands before us in plain view as a reminder that we might know that God’s people are all sinners and that we too may fall. It warns us what sins to avoid, but also encourages us when we fall over the same rough spots in life.
While Jesus bravely testifies that He is the Messiah, Peter cowardly denies he is a disciple. In the courtroom Jesus gives the good confession that He is indeed God incarnate, while in the courtyard Peter calls down the wrath of God in an effort to deny he has anything to do with God’s Son. It is ironic that at the very moment Jesus’s prophetic power was being taunted by the Sanhedrin, His prophecy was coming true in Peter. Let’s take a look at Peter’s failure, for in seeing how he failed Jesus, we can see first what sins we must avoid, but also what we must do when we fail Christ in our lives. DENIAL 1 As we saw last week Peter went from a confident companion of Christ to a distant disciple. While in the Garden of Gethsemane Peter swore allegiance to Christ, that he would follow Him and even die with Him. Peter’s bravado was not just hot air. When the soldiers come to arrest Jesus, Peter draws a sword and tries to take on the palace guard single-handedly. Peter’s bravery was soon squelched as Jesus rejected Peter’s attempts to intervene in God’s plan. But as Jesus is lead away in chains, so the disicples’ courage is bond and they all run for their lives. Peter’s courage is still admirable, but waning. He follows at a distance as he warms himself by the fire, in the courtyard of the High Priest, where Jesus is being interrogated. But for all of Peter’s courage, it is a fearlessness without faith. In the Garden Jesus asks Peter, James and John to pray, so that they will not fall to temptation. But the hour is late and they eyes are heavy. Soon they are sound asleep. While Peter refused to prepare in the tranquillity of the garden, now will be tested by the flickering flames of the courtyard fire. Peter passes through those gates ill prepared. While following the Master is commendable, he should’ve hid in the corner rather than to think he could face even these tepid accusers. We are not much different whenever we throw ourselves into temptations under the appearance of virtue. We think we are strong enough to handle any enticement to sin, ignoring our inclination to sin. We need to be aware of our weaknesses, honest about what will trip us up so quickly, for in a moment we are easily trapped. While warming himself by the fire against the cold night air, a servant girl asks him an innocent question: “You also were with Jesus of Galilee.” Remember that just an hour or so earlier the guards who arrested Jesus had ample opportunity to arrest Peter. Even after he attacked Malchius, the High Priest’s servant, by lopping off his ear, he was not taken into custody. There was no warrant for his arrest. But still, Peter may have wondered, why was she asking? Notice the question more closely: “You also were with Jesus.” Does she have knowledge of another disciple? Perhaps she thought Peter was there just as that other disciple was a few hours before to collect his money for notifying Caiaphas the High Priest? Was Peter in league with Judas in a plot against this so called Rabbi? Peter responded, this time not with the swaggering self-assurance we saw earlier, but before everyone around that fire he asserted: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” This shuffling answer is the first evasive denial. He takes refuge in dodging the issue rather than an outright denial. Maybe he thought he would quiet them by pleading ignorance. But this evasion was a denial all the same. While Jesus stood firm against the leaders of Israel, Peter melts before a servant girl. Before he stood toe to toe, sword in hand, drawing first blood, ready for combat. But like a shrinking violet he hides. Why? Peter’s denial now may not at first be so much fear, but just contempt and disdain for a lowly servant girl. Perhaps he justified his initial response before such an nonentity as no denial at all. The trial came in an unexpected form, and discovered a weak point in Peter, his lack of moral courage. Some people are important; in their presence we are on our best behavior. Other people are unimportant; in their presence it doesn’t matter what we do. The lesson, of course, is not to think anyone unimportant. We are always on trial. Hours before when Peter swore allegiance to fight to the bitter end, that he would never deny Jesus, he pictured the roar of the angry crowd and the clash of swords. Bravery in such a situation is often our only option. He may have dreamed of standing defiantly before the Sanhedrin offering an impassioned plea, a heroic speech. But he certainly never would have considered a trial taking place in such unimpressive circumstances. While some disciples face trials in courtrooms, most of us face trials in the everyday life of courtyards like Peter. In public we are on our best, but what we really are, deep inside, is seen in the dead of night, huddled about a fire when an innocent question is answered. What we are in private is always the truest test of what we are within. Peter believed the lie that outward show of loyalty was sufficient. But God tests us not in the large issues of life, but in the small, the private, the hidden to show how utterly weak we really are. Can you see yourself in Peter’s denial? Can you identify with his hazy, non-committal response? I can. Last Tuesday I found myself rushing to my dentist to have a tooth replaced which inconveniently fell out. As I settled in the chair, his dental assistant inquired as to my church and I quickly told her it was Presbyterian to which she quickly added, “Oh, I’m Catholic.” As if that should be enough to let me know she and God are tight. My dentist then quickly added, “It doesn’t matter what one is, we all serve the same God." I muttered some incoherent retort, not wanting to upset the good doctor who was then holding a high speed drill in his hand. But for all my reasons for not saying more, I skirted the issue. I denied Christ. How do you respond when opportunities come up to discuss the wonderful gift of God’s grace? Do you just let slip by those God-given windows? If you are like me, you’ve just taken the first fatal step in denying Christ. Do you smile politely, but are too afraid to respond? Do you think it best to give that evasive: “I don’t know what I think” reply? DENIAL 2 Peter recognizes he is now in over his head, so he quickly moves out the light of the fire and toward the gate, so that if a quick escape is necessary, he’ll have the head start. His compromised discipleship becomes more and more shadowy. His equivocation only prompted more interest. Another girl probes further, but this time the issue of his allegiance to Jesus becomes more public as she announces the crowd about the fire: “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.” While Peter followed Jesus as a disciple for three years, while he was with Jesus through healings and teachings, he was not with Jesus in prayer the hours before, so now he could not stand with Jesus against temptation. Peter may have continued to rationalize that these petty encounters in the courtyard are nothing. His pride may have encouraged him to believe the lie that he had to protect himself from this rabble to protect Jesus later. Truth could be compromised here to serve a greater purpose later. So, once again he denies Jesus. This time it is more emphatic. He takes an oath. Before he said he did not know what the girl was talking about, now he denies knowing Jesus at all. First he denies through evasion, now he perjures himself. Denying Jesus will be a temptation for us as well, when we cease trusting Him and rely on our own strength to get through the tough times, when we believe that we are ultimately responsible for our health, security, family, homes, when we become so busy with being good, that we forget our weakness and our need for Christ. DENIAL 3 The more Peter said, the more his lie was apparent, even to little servant girls. It was clear that he was a disciple, for with every word, his thick Galilean accent was a flashing beacon that he was a follower of the most widely known Galilean of the time. Ancient writers tells us that the diction of Galileans was so ugly that they were not allowed to pronounce the benediction in synagogues and that those from Jerusalem were contemptuous of the way they spoke. Still he denied knowing anything about this Jesus. He did so this time with not just an oath, but calling down curses on himself. Peter unleashes a whole string of maledictions and divine curses on himself if he lies. In doing this Peter not only denies Jesus, but repudiates God’s authority. He challenges God to judge him if what he says is not true. And with that he announces: “I do not know the man!” A more thorough repudiation could not be conceived. He denies not only being a disciple, but any knowledge of him whatsoever. He does what even Judas does not do - cuts all ties to the one who at that very moment is being beaten, spat upon, mocked by the priests and lawyers. Peter in the courtyard heaps as much contempt of Christ as any of His mockers in the courtroom. Peter now has only one god: his own skin. When people lose faith in the true God they do not become godless; they switch altars. There are no atheists; there are either servants of God or servants of gods. Peter only simulates devotion in the Garden with sword in hand; the darkness of his own heart is seen in the heat of another battle as he rejects all allegiance to Jesus. And then the cock crows. At that moment, as the dark night begins to give way to the day on which the Son of God would become the Passover lamb, Peter realizes the depth of his sinfulness. As he cursed Christ he understood the expansiveness of his need. REPENTANCE Peter ran from the courtyard and wailed in sorrow, for with the crowing the words of his Savior came to mind: “Before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.” When Peter, in the midst of his sin, is confronted by the words of Jesus, he is crushed. Peter’s breakdown is that at last he understands his utter emptiness, his absolute powerlessness. What crushes Peter is what saves him. That word drives home his neediness. In this we see Peter repent. He sees the filth of his sin, smells the foul stench of how he has denied Jesus. But in this he also apprehends God’s mercy. Luke’s account tells us that at the moment of the rooster crowing, Peter not only remembered the word of Jesus, but that the Lord turned and looked straight at Peter (Luke 22:61). That look was one, not of judgment, but compassion, for Jesus already knew what Peter would do. It is a look of love and mercy. It is a look of a Savior ready to die for His friends. That painful stare is the healing touch; the remembered word is the surgeon’s knife that removes the disease. Whenever we have sinned sweetly, we will weep bitterly, for in repentance we taste the pungency of our own sin. Such a deep sorrow is indispensable, not as some satisfaction of divine justice. We could fill the ocean full of our tears and never be acceptable to God’s lawful demands. But those tears are a soothing reminder that there is a real change, that God’s grace has worked repentance. They serve as a powerful reminder for the future as to the loathsomeness of our sin. Is Peter forgiven? Turn to John 21. Jesus has been raised from the dead. And He's cooking breakfast for the disciples on the beach while they are back out on the boat. John recognizes it is Jesus, but it is Peter who cannot wait to pull the boat ashore; he jumps in and swims to Jesus. After breakfast Jesus addresses the most important response to failure and guilt. Jesus asks Peter a question three times. "Peter, do you love me? Peter, do you love me? Peter do you love me?" To each question, Peter responds: “Lord, you know that I love you.” Peter’s response that night of grief and despair was because he saw his sinfulness, but he also saw his Savior. No matter how awful his denial, no matter how great his sin, Peter understood that God’s love for him was far greater - and that is why he wept. Jesus responds: “Peter, feed my lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep." Christ did not demote Peter because of his infidelity; He did not put him on probation because of his denial. Christ restored Peter not even because of Peter’s tears, but because of the work Christ accomplished for Peter on the cross. Christ restored Peter because as Christ was raised from the dead, so Peter was raised to new life. Your life may hold such mistakes and failures, too; a spoiled marriage, a tragic accident, a devastating financial blunder, a denial of your faith. You feel terrible; it seems that the hurt will never go away. Healing can take a long time. But the end of the story is forgiveness and restoration. No failure or mistake is beyond repair. Remorse need not be the final word. Jesus offers forgiveness, renewed strength, and power to live again. Like Peter, we need to remember the words Jesus has spoken: that we are very weak and denial is very real, that unbelief will crowd out faith so quickly that sin will become so bright and the cross so dim. Jesus wants us to remember this for a reason, for when we find ourselves spiraling down we must then remember that Jesus knows us all too well, we can then weep for our sins, and embrace our Savior. We can then find the grace we need, the strength we need to love God as He commands. |