A Question for Peter

I’m going to read from John chapter 18, first of all in verses 15–18 and then verses 25–27.

So, the disciples by and large have made a run for things, and John tells us that “Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he entered with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter stood outside at the door. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to the servant girl who kept watch at the door, and brought Peter in. The servant girl at the door said to Peter, ‘You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?’ He said, ‘I am not.’ Now the servants and officers had made a charcoal fire, because it was cold, and they were standing and warming themselves. Peter also was with them, standing and warming himself.”

We pick it up at 25. In the interim, Jesus is being questioned, and as that is going on, we’re told that “Peter was standing and warming himself. [And] so they said to him, ‘You also are not one of his disciples, are you?’ He denied it and said, ‘I[’m] not.’ One of the servants 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?’ Peter again denied it, and at once a rooster crowed.”

Father, grant us grace as we turn to the Bible, clarity of thought, and a receptive heart. And we ask it in Jesus’ name, Amen.

I think I’ve told you before—and this is not unfamiliar territory for some of you of a certain vintage—that after a recent doctor’s visit, when I had been given a relatively clean bill of health by him, he then said to me, “Just make sure that you don’t fall. Don’t fall.” And while paying lip service to his counsel, inside of myself I was saying, “Who does he think he’s talking to? I don’t fall.” Well, I can’t tell what flows from there, but let me just say: How presumptuous of me to have thought that in my mind!

The danger of falling physically is an increasing danger with age, and it is a significant factor. We know that. All the people who ride bicycles well into their eighties think they’re so cool till I go and visit them in the hospital. But I applaud their zeal and so on. But falling is a problem.

The apostle Paul issued a similar warning when he wrote to the Corinthians in 1 Corinthians 10:12: “Let anyone who thinks … he stands take heed lest he fall.” Peterson paraphrases that little section like this (I found it very helpful): Peterson says, “We are just as capable of messing … up as they were. Don’t be so naive and self-confident. You’re not exempt. You could fall flat on your face as easily as anyone else.”[1]

Now, when Paul writes those words, I wonder: Did he even have a thought in his mind of what had happened to Peter? He surely must have known. But here in John we have read one of the four accounts. In each of the Gospels the denial of Peter is recorded. It’s as though it almost sounds out, it flashes out, like a beacon in the night, a warning to the church—a warning, a lesson that’s not too late to be learned ever. In that sense, it is a mercy, in that it gives us an opportunity to not only read the passage and see what we’re told but to recognize that it is there in order to prevent each of us in part from making shipwreck of our own souls.

Peter’s denial came after the Lord’s Supper—came after Communion, if you like. It came after he had listened intimately to the prayer of Jesus addressed to his Father—the High Priestly Prayer—which we read together and studied in John chapter 17.

We acknowledge that so that we can realize that what we discover here does not actually come in a vacuum. Preceding this, Jesus has explained to his disciples how important it is for them to understand that their role is to be a role of a servant. And yet in that context, they’re actually discussing with one another who was the greatest among them.[2] And it is in that context that Jesus gives to them a warning. He says to them, “You know, there’s going to be a violent shakeup. There’s going to be a violent shakeup. Because the devil has demanded to sift you like wheat”[3]—the shaking of a sieve in such a way that the chaff might be coming to the top and thereby would be discarded. This, of course, is in Luke chapter 22—and I don’t want to do this evening what I kept doing this morning, and that is telling you where I am, because it will be tedious for you. But it’s interesting that in Luke’s version, Jesus begins to address Peter not in his new name that he was given—remember: “You are Simon, but your name will be called Cephas.”[4] Cephas is Aramaic. It means “rocky:” “You are to be rocklike.” Here he says to him, “Simon, Simon”—doesn’t address him in his new name. There’s a foreshadowing here that should have probably made the hair stand up on the back of Peter’s neck: “Satan [has] demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail.”[5]

For those of you who are interested, in that section, when he uses the personal pronoun “you,” the first time he uses it, it is in the plural: “Satan has desired to sift you,” plural, “like wheat.” The second time, when he addresses Peter, he addresses him in the singular: “You—all you guys. But you, Peter—I have prayed for you, that afterwards you will be able to strengthen the brethren.”

It’s important also, I think—so that we don’t go wrong—to recognize that Satan does not have some kind of unlimited access to Peter. The picture that probably is most helpful to have in mind in this encounter is the beginning of the book of Job. You remember where [Satan] comes and requests of God the opportunity to actually involve himself in the life of Job. He doesn’t have the freedom to do it on his own.[6] It’s mysterious, and it is at the same time quite wonderful. “Satan has desired to sift you like wheat. I have prayed for you.” And therefore, Peter not only receives this warning, but he receives the assurance that he will survive this ordeal as a result of Christ’s intercession for him.

But I think what is so amazing, or one of the things that is quite amazing, is that how God is fashioning Peter to be the Peter that he becomes is not down a primrose path of unmitigated success. It is not that he got all the exams correct, that he answered all the questions really well, that he was just the bright boy in the group. He wasn’t. He wasn’t even close to it. The pathway to Peter’s usefulness was a pathway of brokenness. It was a pathway of disappointment. It was a pathway of tears. And those of us who’ve lived enough of our Christian lives over a period of time will probably be at least prepared to consider the possibility that the most progress—the most spiritual progress—that we have made in our lives has not come by way of success and laughter but has come by pain, by disappointment, and by tears. It’s certainly true here in Peter’s life.

Now, Peter, if only he wasn’t Peter, might have responded in a different way to what Jesus says. But he’s so presumptuous and so straightforward in the way he responds. Basically, he says to Jesus, “You know, I’m okay, Jesus. You know, thank you for that, but I’m actually ready to go with you both to prison and to death. I mean, I know we’ve got other people here, and they may well go down like a pack of cards, but I’m okay.”[7] To which Jesus said, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.”[8]

The pathway to Peter’s usefulness was a pathway of brokenness. It was a pathway of disappointment. It was a pathway of tears.

Now, Mark tells us that they all said the same thing. At the end of the account in Mark it says, “And they all said the same [thing].”[9] So in other words, there was a lot of head-nodding going on, you know: “Oh, yeah. Yeah, we’re good with that. Uh-huh! Yeah, we’re not about to say it, but yeah, we like that too.” And having said, “Yeah, we’re good with that,” it then says, “And they all deserted him, and they fled.”[10] So, there’s a great encouragement for many of us in this.

Now, we saw in our earlier study how Peter was prepared to wield the sword. In that darkened alleyway, if you like—in amongst those trees, in amongst those olive groves, under the covers of darkness—he’s a big, brave man with a sword, ready to confess that Jesus is his Lord and his Master. But now we find his retreat as he doesn’t find it in himself to declare such a brave confession of his allegiance to Jesus, not in the face of the amassed crowd with clubs and swords but with a servant girl at the entryway to the high priest’s court.

He’s impulsive. He’s impetuous by nature. And all of that is revealed in what follows. He loves Jesus, and so he follows him, but when push comes to shove, he was actually afraid to display his colors. He must have thought that he knew himself better than Jesus knew him. We do not know ourselves better than Jesus knows us. “You will deny me,” Jesus said. “But he said emphatically, ‘… I will not deny you.’”[11] That’s Mark’s version: “He said emphatically, ‘… I will not deny you.’”

Surely a developed sense of self-assurance is a dangerous thing—an unrealistic sense of self-assurance. When we read the Gospels, we see its danger. Indeed, when we read the history of the Bible, we can see it. Uzziah was tremendously effective, a genius of a young man, able militarily, able architecturally. In every way, he was a whiz kid. But you remember how he ended. He wasn’t living in the palace at the end. He was living in a little cottage at the gate. He was leprous. He was separated from the entire company that he had presided over in the early part of his life.[12] What happened to him? The Chronicler tells us, “Uzziah was gloriously helped until he became strong. But when he became strong, he grew proud to his own destruction.”[13] And here we see the elements of this in Peter.

His arrival at the courtyard is recorded for us. We might wonder: Did he go there out of bravery, or was it bravado? Did he go there merely out of curiosity? It actually says in the Matthew account that he was going inside to sit with the guards “to see the end.”[14] He wanted to see the outcome of things—curious to see how this was all going to play out. It might have been that. Maybe it was loyalty—loyalty that found him standing at the doorway, standing there on the outside, at the door.

At that point, at the door, he could have decided to go where the rest of them had gone, right? He wasn’t preprogrammed here. He’s not an automaton. He’s making his own decisions. And when you come to a door that’s closed, then you either have to find a way to get beyond that closed door, or you turn around, and you walk away. I wonder: Did he stay there for a moment or two? He had to stay there, because he had no access. But I wonder: Did he say to himself, “I wonder: Should I go, or should I stay? I could go right now. That would be pretty easy. Everyone else is gone. Or I could stay and go in there. But who knows what’s going to happen in there? That’s actually kind of scary.”

It made me think, actually, of the early part of Genesis: “Sin is crouching at the door, and it desires to have you, but you must master it.”[15] If you’ve been reading through Proverbs, you will know how often this picture is given by the writer to his son, to the reader. And as he warns his son about the importance of guarding his life, guarding his heart, physically looking after himself, he talks of a woman that his son should avoid—a kind of woman: “She does not ponder the path of life; her ways wander, and she does[n’t] know it.” In other words, she’s dangerous, and she’s clueless. This is what he says: “Keep your way far from her, and do not go near the door of her house.”[16] “Don’t even play with it in your mind! Just don’t even go through the door. Don’t go to the door of the house.”

So here we have him. He’s there. We must keep moving. And it is in this context that the matter is resolved for him—taken out of his hands in some way—by the intervention of another disciple—another disciple, whom we take to be John. And in the actions of this other disciple, who is known to the high priest—how that relationship began we have no knowledge of that, but nevertheless, he’s known, and he has connections, and so he’s able to get Peter in.

Sometimes you’ve been in a situation like that, where you were outside of a stadium or outside of a concert, and someone says, “I’ve got a connection. I can get you in.” And you’re so excited. It’s wonderful! Says Ryle of John, “He was perfectly mistaken, and was unintentionally one link in the chain of causes which led to [the] fall [of Peter].”[17] So he’s doing him what he thinks is a good turn, but in actual fact, he’s doing him a bad turn. We may harm each other with the best of intentions. He did it with the best of intentions. He had no awareness of what was about to unfold. And as Peter is being ushered in through the door, there you have it in the text: The servant girl asks the question.

Now, you say, “Why did you go to the John passage and not one of the others?” Because although this is recorded in each of the Synoptics as well, it is only in John that this comes in the form of a question. In each of the other passages, it is an assertion. It is in the—yeah, it’s just an assertion. Whereas here, she puts it to him in such a way that it gives him the opportunity to opt out: “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” And in three words in English and two words in Greek, he tells a lie; he commits a sin. He broke his promise, instantaneously! You say, “Well, you wouldn’t go to a Communion service… I mean, maybe after a week or two or something else, or you’re out on a business trip! But you’re not going to go from, like, that, to ‘No, I never met him in my life.’” That’s what he did.

I wonder if Peter was actually surprised by what came out of his mouth. It was out before he hardly knew it. But he was good at having things come out of his mouth before he hardly knew it. Some of us can all too sadly identify with that. Now he’s got another opportunity: “Well, should I slip out now? Should I get out now? Or should I settle in?” He decides, “I’ll settle in. That’s a nice fireplace, and these people don’t look too bad. Maybe if I just mingle, there’ll be no more questions, and I’ll be okay. I mean, one slip is surely enough.”

Incidentally, there is no sense in which the question from the servant girl is demanding in any way. This is not an interrogation. I take it that she may well be making conversation. As she brings Peter in, she says, “And we know John. We know John is a disciple of Jesus. You’re not a disciple of Jesus, too, are you?” “No. No, I’m not.”

Augustine now, picturing Peter gathered with the rest around the fireplace, says, “Behold that most firm pillar of the Church, touched but by one breath of danger, [as he] trembles all over. Where is now that boldness of promising,—that confident vaunting of himself?”[18] It’s gone. And he lingers. Keddie, the commentator, says, “Lingering in the arena of moral failure is an invitation to fail further when the next challenge comes along.” If you can get out, get out. But he doesn’t get out. He compounds the issue by staying in.

And the question is repeated—repeated perhaps a little more ominously, insofar as it’s coming from the lips of the servants and the officers. He could come clean, I suppose, now and renounce his renunciation, or he can do what he does, and that is compound the problem by adding a lie on top of a lie. Sir Walter Scott: “Oh, what a tangled web we weave, / when first we practice to deceive!”[19]

The picture is a tragic picture, actually. You see him there. He’s trying to warm himself up as he denies being one of the disciple band. What’s happening to Peter here? He’s being dragged down by sin’s momentum. He’s being dragged down by the momentum of sin. That’s why we teach our children, don’t we, what I learned as a boy: “Sow a thought, reap an action. Sow an action, reap a habit. Sow a habit, reap a character. Sow a character, reap a destiny.”

And that is actually what’s happening here. The momentum of moving in the wrong direction brings with it its own inertia, and he begins to tumble and collapse. In his ears he can hear Jesus, presumably, saying, “Why are you folks sleeping? Watch and pray so that you will not enter into temptation.”[20] He didn’t watch, and he didn’t pray, and look at where he is. Presumably, when he was dozing off, he was in a kind of dreamy carelessness that somehow or another, he would be able to be capable in himself.

James reminds us that “each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.”[21] While temptation is common to all men, not every temptation has the same pull. The real dark night of the soul is when temptation and desire and opportunity coincide. Then you’ve got a real problem. Two you might be able to manage, but three will take you down—desire, opportunity, temptation. And he desires for his own well-being here. And in light of that we have this dreadful record. “Desire,” says James, “when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.”[22]

And just when it couldn’t get any worse, it did. Because the question comes a third time. It’s posed in a slightly different form, but it’s the same question. And notice who is the speaker. I know Peter wouldn’t have said this, but if he could have said it, he would have said, “Oh, this is just my luck, that this guy is the cousin of Malchus, whose ear I chopped off not a few hours ago!” What were the chances of him being in the group, of all things, of all people? It’s funny how that happens, isn’t it? It does happen like that. “One of the servants 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?’” He could have said, “I know I did. I mean, you’re the guy that took his ear off.” Incidentally, I don’t know if he was his cousin. I just made that up. But he was a relative of Malchus. He could be a cousin. Just be careful.

“Did I not see you in the garden with him?” And “Peter again denied it.” “Peter again denied it.” In fact, as you qualify this with the Synoptics, you know that he denied it now with curses and with oaths.[23] The first deal was just “No.” The second deal was “No, definitely no.” And then the third deal was worse than before. Essentially, it was strike three, and the inning is over. The rooster crows, Jesus turns and looks, and Peter goes out, and he “wept bitterly.”[24] Peter, who had declared himself ready to die for Jesus, has discovered in this encounter that he was actually powerless to live for Jesus in the context that he faced.

The death from which Peter wanted to save Jesus was the death which alone could save Peter.

We see here how sin, as I’ve said to you, generates its own momentum. Listen to Calvin: “At first, the fault will not be very great; next, it becomes habitual, and at [last], after [the] conscience has been laid [to sleep], he [or she] who has accustomed [themselves] to despise God will think nothing unlawful … but will dare to commit the greatest wickedness.”[25]

I say to you again that it is here, recorded for us in Scripture as having taken place, and it serves in part as a warning to us so that we might realize, as Peter had to realize, that the death from which Peter wanted to save Jesus was the death which alone could save Peter. He’s trying to save Jesus from the very death that is the basis of Peter’s forgiveness and atonement and joy. We need the death of Jesus to accomplish and apply all that we need so that in dying to self, we might live for Christ.

Now let me end in this way: If the record of Peter’s life ended here for us in the Gospels, we would be hard-pressed to see any difference between Judas and Peter. But there is a vast difference between Judas and Peter. We know that Judas was never one of Christ’s at all. Peter clearly was. And the prayer of Jesus was answered in Peter’s life, and gloriously so, at a gathering with a fire. He had gone away by himself and mingled with a crowd that proved unhelpful to him. But Jesus lights the fire on the beach, and he invites Peter to come and meet with him there and walk with him there,[26] because he’s such a wonderful Savior that our stupidest mistakes, our deepest wrongs, our selfish preoccupations, our bumptious attempts at self-justification show us just how sinful we all are—saved sinners.

And so it is that God, in his goodness, has appointed places for us, markers for us, as he did for the people of Israel in the Old Testament as we’re reading Leviticus at the moment, as you know. And all of those offerings there were pointing forward to this offering, so that when we gather around this Table, we do so to heed the warning of 1 Corinthians 10:12 and to be reminded of the assurance of 1 Corinthians 10:13, which goes as this: “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

Well, just a moment of silence.

Perhaps we make these words from Psalm 119 our prayer of response: The psalmist says,

Uphold me according to your promise, that I may live,
 and let me not be put to shame in my hope!
Hold me up, that I may be safe
 and have regard for your statutes continually.[27]

Amen.

[1] 1 Corinthians 10:12 (MSG).

[2] See Luke 22:24–27.

[3] Luke 22:31 (paraphrased).

[4] John 1:42 (paraphrased).

[5] Luke 22:31–32 (ESV).

[6] See Job 1:6–12.

[7] Luke 22:33 (paraphrased).

[8] Luke 22:34 (ESV).

[9] Mark 14:31 (ESV).

[10] Mark 14:50 (paraphrased).

[11] Mark 14:30–31 (ESV).

[12] See 2 Chronicles 26.

[13] 2 Chronicles 26:15–16 (paraphrased).

[14] Matthew 26:58 (ESV).

[15] Genesis 4:7 (paraphrased).

[16] Proverbs 5:6, 8 (ESV).

[17] J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels: St. John (New York: Robert Carter and Brothers, 1878), 3:232.

[18] Augustine, quoted in Ryle, Expository Thoughts, 3:233.

[19] Sir Walter Scott, Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field (1806–1808).

[20] Luke 22:46 (paraphrased).

[21] James 1:14 (ESV).

[22] James 1:15 (ESV).

[23] See Matthew 26:74; Mark 14:71.

[24] Matthew 26:75; Luke 22:62 (ESV).

[25] John Calvin, Commentary on the Gospel According to John (Edinburgh: Calvin Translation Society, 1847), 2:203.

[26] See John 21:1–19.

[27] Psalm 119:116–117 (ESV).