Peter's Denial

Let’s bow our heads for the prayer of illumination.

God, whom we know through the scriptures and creation, speak to us in this hour. Show us the wisdom and joy of your ways, that we may know what is good and do what is right. Jesus Christ, your Word. Amen.

And our scripture this morning, if you want to read along, is found on page 496. It’s Psalm 17, the first seven verses.

Hear a just cause, O Lord; attend to my cry. Give ear to my prayer from lips free from deceit. From you let my vindication come. Let your eyes see the right. If you try my heart, if you visit me by night, if you test me, you will find no wickedness in me; my mouth does not transgress.

As for what others do, by the words of your lips I have avoided the ways of the violent. My steps have held fast to your paths; my feet have not slipped.

I call upon you, for you will answer me, O God. Incline your ear to me; hear my words. Wondrously show your steadfast love, O Savior of those who seek refuge from their adversaries at your right hand.

The word of the Lord.

Thanks be to God.

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound

that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost, but now am found,

was blind, but now I see.

’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,

and grace my fears relieved.

How precious did that grace appear

the hour I first believed.

Through many dangers, toils, and snares,

I have already come.

His grace has brought me safe thus far,

and grace will lead me home.

The Lord has promised good to me;

his word my hope secures.

He will my shield and portion be

as long as life endures.

What does it mean to be faithful? What does it mean when we fail to be faithful? And what does God do with someone who cannot live up to the courage that they thought they had?

These are not abstract questions. They are deeply human ones. They belong to us all because all of us know something about fear, failure, and those moments when we fall short. Have you ever asked yourself some of these questions?

Well, our gospel reading this morning invites us to wrestle with these very questions. Our sermon text is John 18, verses 12 through 27.

So the soldiers, their officer, and the Jewish police arrested Jesus and bound him. First, they took him to Annas, who was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, the high priest that year. Caiaphas was the one who had advised the Jews that it was better to have one person die for the people.

Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest. But Peter was standing outside at the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in.

The woman said to Peter, “You are not also one of this man’s disciples, are you?”

He said, “I am not.”

Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing around it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself.

Then the high priest questioned Jesus about his disciples and about his teaching.

Jesus answered, “I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all the Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. Why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them. They know what I said.”

When he had said this, one of the police standing nearby struck Jesus on the face, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?”

Jesus answered, “If I have spoken wrongly, testify to the wrong; but if I have spoken rightly, why do you strike me?”

Then Annas sent him bound to Caiaphas, the high priest.

Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. They asked him, “You are not also one of his disciples, are you?”

He denied it and said, “I am not.”

One of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?”

Again, Peter denied it, and at that moment the cock crowed.

This is the word of the Lord.

Did you know that while the Gospels all tell the same story, the story of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus, there are only a handful of individual stories that appear in all four of the Gospels?

Matthew, Mark, and Luke often tell many of the same stories, which is why we call them the synoptic gospels. They tend to see together. But John tells the story a little bit differently. In fact, about 90%, somewhere around there, of what we read in John’s gospel is unique to his gospel.

As John himself reminds us at the end of his gospel, there is much more that can be said about the life and ministry of Jesus. So far more than could ever fit into one book.

But there are a few moments that all four gospel writers include, and one of those moments is the one that we just read: Peter’s denial. All four gospels tell this story, and none of them soften it. None of them try to explain it away. They simply preserve this uncomfortable story of a disciple who promised he would never abandon Jesus and then did exactly that.

Which raises an interesting question: why’d they keep it in there?

So to understand why, I think we need to take a step back in the story for a moment and get a better sense of who Peter is.

In the Gospel of John, we learn something about Peter almost immediately. Jesus has just called his first disciples to follow him, one of them being Peter’s brother, Andrew. And the next day, Andrew finds Peter and tells him, “We have found the Messiah,” God’s anointed leader that people have been waiting for.

So Andrew brings Peter to Jesus, and Jesus looks at him and says, “You are Simon, son of John. You are to be called Cephas,” which is translated Peter in Greek.

And so this new name tells us something about Peter. The name Cephas, or Peter, means rock.

Now, what do you think of when you hear the word rock? We have a few contemporary people that we might think of that are named Rock. So, Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson. Can you smell what The Rock is cooking? It’s a throwback, if you watched wrestling before he was an actor. Guy literally looks like a boulder on legs.

Or maybe Rocky Balboa. Also very rock-like, right?

So what do you think of when you hear the word rock? Rocks are strong, sturdy, durable. They’re often heavy and immovable. And this is not just any rock, but bedrock, this word, the kind that can serve as a foundation on which something can be built.

So this new name for Peter captures something true about him, even as it points forward to the person that he is still becoming. When Jesus names Peter Rock, he’s not simply describing who Peter is. He’s declaring who he will become. Jesus sees something in him, something Peter himself may not yet see.

Now, in the Gospel of Luke, we first meet Peter out on the Sea of Galilee doing what he knows best. He’s fishing. After a long night with no catch, if you remember the story, Jesus tells Peter to lower the nets one more time. Just give it one more try.

And when they do, the nets suddenly fill with so many fish that they begin to break. And Peter and his companions are amazed. And Jesus replies, “Do not be afraid. From now on, you will catch people.”

This is the beginning of a whole new life for Peter. Something is happening. God is doing something new in the world, and Peter is ready to leave everything behind and follow Jesus.

And then throughout the Gospels, Peter, the rock, often seems to live up to this name. He is the bold one. He’s often the first to speak, the first to act. Sometimes he’s the first to believe.

When Jesus is walking on water across the Sea of Galilee, Peter steps out of the boat to walk toward Jesus. And when Jesus asks the disciples who they believe he is, Peter answers, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God.” And when others begin to turn away from Jesus, Peter says, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.”

But Peter is not always strong and immovable. After stepping out of the boat, he becomes frightened and begins to sink. And after boldly declaring that Jesus is the Messiah, he then rebukes Jesus because he cannot imagine a Messiah who must suffer and die.

Peter is, like us, deeply human. He is someone who never quite lands on one side or the other. He moves from one extreme to the next, confident one moment, confused the next, courageous and fearful within the same breath.

Maybe you can relate to this. I know that I can.

I think Peter embodies the tension at the heart of faith itself: the desire to be faithful, “Lord, I believe,” alongside our very real doubts and fears, “Lord, help my unbelief.”

And on the night that Jesus was arrested, that tension between faith and fear, it finally comes to a breaking point.

Earlier that evening, Jesus tells the disciples that they will all fall away. He tells them he’s going to be arrested, that he’s going to die, and all of them will fall away. But Peter cannot imagine such a thing to be true. Even if everyone else abandons Jesus, Peter insists that he never will. He is ready to follow Jesus anywhere, even to death.

But Jesus knows Peter better than Peter knows himself. And before the rooster crows, Jesus tells him that Peter will deny him three times.

And as the night unfolds, Simon the rock begins to falter.

There’s a confrontation in the garden as a crowd arrives to arrest Jesus. Judas betrays him with a kiss. And Peter, in true Peter fashion, draws out a sword and strikes the servant of the high priest, cutting off his ear.

“Put away your sword, Peter.”

Jesus is arrested and the disciples scatter. In a matter of moments, everything Peter was so sure about begins to unravel. The disciples are afraid and uncertain about what to do next, and most of them run away. But Peter, Peter keeps following. He’s at a distance until he finds himself standing in the courtyard of the high priest.

Now, I imagine that Peter was very afraid. He must have sensed the danger of the position that he was now in. His teacher had been arrested under cover of darkness, not the time for usual judicial proceedings. Perhaps Jesus’ words were echoing in his ears, and Peter was beginning to realize that Jesus really was going to die.

After all, Peter had said that he would follow Jesus anywhere, even to death. If I’m honest with myself, I think Peter has already made it farther than I might have.

I think the closest I’ve come to this situation was maybe back in 2005. I went to Russia for the first time with a group out of Georgia. It was a mission trip to do a vacation Bible school. And at this time, there were lots of restrictions about who could come from churches and what churches, especially if you weren’t Russian Orthodox. There was a lot of suspicion around Americans coming over and teaching, you know, anti-Russian sentiments and those things.

And so we went over there. We did our VBS, and it was great. And then we were on our way back to the airport in this van, and all of a sudden the van stops, and the door opens up, and there are just some soldiers standing there with their weapons, guns, and no one knows what’s going on.

And I remember how afraid I felt in that moment, feeling like maybe we had been found out. Luckily it was fine. They thought that the van was full of immigrants from Kazakhstan and not just some American people going back to America. It was good that we were leaving.

So, but I remember that moment just being afraid, not knowing what was going to happen, what I was going to have to say. And so I sympathize with Peter in this moment.

And then the questions begin.

A servant girl who was guarding the entrance to the courtyard looks at Peter and says, “You are not also one of this man’s disciples, are you?”

Peter shakes his head. “I am not.”

It’s the first denial.

And the imagery here is striking because Peter is, in some sense, physically drawing closer to Jesus, even as he denies him with his mouth. He’s following him at a distance. He’s showing up at the courtyard. He still wants to follow, to see what will happen, to stay near him in some way.

But that fear begins to take hold. Maybe there’s shame, maybe confusion. Peter wants to stay close enough to watch, but not so close that anyone actually associates him with Jesus. And slowly he begins to distance himself from the one he promised to follow anywhere.

“I am not with that man.”

He then moves toward a charcoal fire to warm himself among the servants and soldiers, the very people who arrested Jesus. Now Peter is surrounded, and he’s vulnerable.

And then at this point, John briefly shifts our attention away from Peter and gives us a glimpse of what is happening to Jesus. It’s a brief pause in Peter’s quickly unfolding backpedaling. While Peter is being questioned about his association with Jesus, Jesus himself is facing questions about his followers and his teaching.

The contrast between these two interrogations is striking. Outside, Peter is distancing himself from Jesus, while inside, Jesus is openly declaring who he is. The moment is thick with tension, even though we already know what is coming.

Jesus has nothing to hide. He says, “I have spoken openly to the world. I’ve said nothing in secret. So why do you ask me? Ask those who heard what I said to them. They know what I said.”

Now Peter was certainly one of those who heard what Jesus said. They could have asked him. He had been present when Jesus was teaching in the synagogues and the temple. Peter knew who Jesus was: the Messiah, the Son of the living God.

Now we quickly move back to the courtyard, where a little while later someone else recognizes Peter.

“You’re not one of his disciples, are you?”

And again Peter denies it. “I am not.”

Then one of the slaves of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked him, “Didn’t I see you in the garden with him?”

And again, Peter denied it.

In that moment, the rooster crowed.

Now, if we stopped here and called it a day, things might feel pretty bleak for Peter and maybe for us. But failure is not the end of the story in the kingdom of God. And that is why I think each of the four gospels preserves this story. Not one of them hides it. No excuses made for Peter. No attempts to polish away his flaws. We are given a story where both his courage and his weakness are on full display.

Peter was devastated by what he had done. The other gospels tell us that when the rooster crowed, Peter remembers the words of Jesus and he weeps. He breaks down. He cries bitterly.

And we all know moments like that. Moments when fear exposes who we really are. Moments when our courage collapses. Moments when we realize that we are not the people that we thought we were.

Our moments of denial may look different from Peter’s, but there are still moments when our actions, or maybe our inaction, tell a different story than the one that we are living. When fear keeps us quiet. When protecting our comfort or our reputation feels safer than living the way that Jesus calls us to live. When we know the right thing to do, but we choose the safer thing instead.

And the question that follows moments like this is: what does Jesus do with people like us when fear exposes who we really are? Is there a way back? And if so, how do we get there?

Well, the good news is that Peter’s story doesn’t end in that courtyard. Later in John’s gospel, Jesus finds Peter once more.

The first time that Jesus called Peter, he was fishing. And after Peter’s greatest failure, when Jesus meets him again, he is fishing once more.

After the resurrection, several of the disciples return to Galilee, and they spend the night fishing, but again they catch nothing. At dawn, Jesus, whom they do not recognize at first, appears on the shore and tells them to cast their nets again. And suddenly the nets are full.

This is a story from John 21, which is very similar to the story in the Gospel of Luke when Jesus first calls Peter. So if that scene sounds familiar, it should. The first time that Jesus called Peter to follow him, he was also out on the water after a long night of unsuccessful fishing. And so, in many ways, it’s as if Jesus is taking Peter back to the very beginning.

And when the disciples realize that it is Jesus standing on the shore, Peter does what Peter always does. He doesn’t wait for the boat to reach land. He jumps into the water and swims ashore. It’s classic Peter.

And when the disciples arrive on the beach, they find Jesus waiting beside a charcoal fire. That detail matters because there are two charcoal fires that are mentioned in the Gospel of John: the one beside Peter’s denial, and then the one here.

And beside this fire, Jesus turns to Peter and he asks him a question. And this is John 21, verses 15 through 19.

When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?”

He said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said to him, “Feed my lambs.”

A second time, he said to him, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

He said to him, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

Jesus said to him, “Tend my sheep.”

He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, “Do you love me?” And he said to him, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”

And Jesus said to him, “Feed my sheep.”

And then, at the end of verse 19, after this he said to him, “Follow me.”

Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me, Peter?

Three questions for three denials. The night of Peter’s denial, the night he denies his Lord, his teacher, his friend, is brought back into view. The memory of that charcoal fire is vivid as they sit around another charcoal fire.

Jesus brings Peter back to this moment, but not to shame him, but to restore him. Because sometimes the way forward begins by honestly facing where we have failed. Jesus knows Peter’s heart, and now Peter knows himself a little better too. He knows his weakness, and yet that weakness does not in any way erase his love for Jesus.

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

And the response Peter receives is not condemnation, but a call.

“Feed my sheep.”

Show your love for me by caring for those I love. The evidence that we follow Jesus is simple: love for one another. As he said, they will know you are my disciples if you love one another.

Love. So simple. Not easy. Definitely not easy. But simple.

Peter’s story offers me comfort and compassion as I wrestle with my own doubts, my own failures, my own quiet denials that force me to reckon with my weaknesses. And it reminds me that there is abundant mercy in Jesus Christ.

Jesus does not leave Peter in the courtyard beside that first charcoal fire. Instead, he meets him beside another fire and calls him forward.

“Follow me.”

And that is good news for us. Like Peter, we are not defined by our failures. Failure does not mean that we cannot be forgiven. Jesus meets us in our weakness and offers us a way forward.

Beyond our understanding, beyond our reason, God does not deny his love for us. God does not give up on us. Instead, there is mercy, compassion, gentleness, understanding, and an invitation to keep going, keep following, keep learning to love, keep growing in faithfulness.

Walk together, take care of one another, and follow Jesus.

Let us pray.

God, we thank you for the immeasurable mercy that you offer us and the call that you extend to us to keep following you. We thank you for the stories that you tell us in your gospels that give us hope, give us comfort, and remind us of your love.

We pray these things in Jesus’ name. Amen.