And he (Peter) went outside and wept bitterly. Matthew 26:75
Have you ever felt you were a total, abject, utter, miserable failure? You’ve got something badly wrong - about as wrong as you possibly could have. If you’ll pardon the cliché, you’ve messed up big time.
That was how Peter felt that day. A few hours earlier he had declared his undying loyalty to Jesus: “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you!” (Matthew 26:35).
But while Jesus was on trial he had been challenged by a servant girl in the courtyard outside: “You’re one of this man’s followers, aren’t you? I can tell by your accent!” And Peter had denied all knowledge of him - not just once, not just twice, but three times - using angry and violent language: “He began to call down curses, and swore to them, ‘I don’t know the man!’” (Matthew 26:74).
At that moment came the sound of a cock crowing - the very sound Jesus had said would signal his failure. No wonder Peter broke down. No wonder he “wept bitterly”.
I imagine we can all identify with Peter to some extent.
For me, two main things stand out from this sorry episode.
First: Big talk is easy, but what matters is what you do.
I don’t doubt that when Peter promised Jesus his loyalty even unto death he meant exactly what he said. But when it came to the crunch he couldn’t follow it through.
Do you ever “promise more than you can deliver”? How often does the alcoholic declare, “Right, I’ll never touch another drop!” Or the adulterous husband or wife, “That’s it. Never again! From now on I’ll always be true to you...”. On a smaller scale, how often does the habitual late-comer promise to be more organised, or the overweight person to really cut back? But somehow it just doesn’t happen...
Paul writes (1 Corinthians 10:12), “If you think you’re standing firm, watch out that you don’t fall”. Wise words. It’s better not to make a promise at all than to make it and then break it.
Second: We can never know how our faith and loyalty will stand up until we are tested. This is the thing I find most challenging.
We regularly hear reports of Christians in different parts of the world being imprisoned, tortured, even killed for their loyalty to Jesus. And I find myself thinking “Mmm, suppose that was me? Would I stand up as bravely as that? Or would I cave in and renounce my faith?” I know what I would like to think is the answer, but in all honesty I have my doubts: serious doubts.
A tree may look deeply rooted. But you don’t know until it has withstood a hurricane. A bridge may look completely immovable; but suppose there was an earthquake?
In spite of our sometimes grumbles, we Christians in the western world have it pretty easy. But watch out for complacency or arrogance! How many of us really know our true selves?
Challenging stuff. But the story of Peter has a wonderful aftermath.
Here he is, this no-hoper, this big mouth, this failure, sobbing his heart out in public. But where do we find him in literally a matter of days? Answer: preaching Jesus in the centre of Jerusalem to a massive crowd (Acts 2). He has become, humanly speaking, the head of the church.
God doesn’t cast us off! Not if we are truly sorry. He is the God of the second chance - and the fourth, the fifth and the sixth. Of course, we mustn’t let that wonderful truth lead us to be careless or complacent. But I suspect there aren’t many of us for whom it isn’t good news.
Let me add two little footnotes that deepen the impact of this story...
First, we shouldn’t overlook the fact that at least Peter was there, in the courtyard of the high priest. Where were his fellow-apostles? - keeping their heads down, that’s where.
It reminds me of the time Peter tried - and failed - to walk on the water (Matthew 14). All right, yes, he failed - but at least he tried. The other eleven didn’t so much as get out of the boat.
Credit where it’s due...
Second, a question: how did this embarrassing incident about the leader-to-be of the church find its way into the Gospels? Surely it’s the kind of thing that the early church would have wanted to hush up?
Answer: it’s there because the Gospel-writers wanted their readers to know the plain unvarnished truth, however bitter and humiliating - and Peter himself, it seems, made no attempt to suppress it. Again, credit where it’s due.
We are all sinners and failures. So let’s face up to the fact with humility, trusting that God will treat us with the same mercy as he did Simon Peter. Because that’s what he loves to do.
Father God, thank you that your word shows up in such an unflattering light the man who was to become the human foundation stone of the church. Thank you for the hope this gives me. Deal gently with me in my failings, Lord! Amen.
Have you ever felt you were a total, abject, utter, miserable failure? You’ve got something badly wrong - about as wrong as you possibly could have. If you’ll pardon the cliché, you’ve messed up big time.
That was how Peter felt that day. A few hours earlier he had declared his undying loyalty to Jesus: “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you!” (Matthew 26:35).
But while Jesus was on trial he had been challenged by a servant girl in the courtyard outside: “You’re one of this man’s followers, aren’t you? I can tell by your accent!” And Peter had denied all knowledge of him - not just once, not just twice, but three times - using angry and violent language: “He began to call down curses, and swore to them, ‘I don’t know the man!’” (Matthew 26:74).
At that moment came the sound of a cock crowing - the very sound Jesus had said would signal his failure. No wonder Peter broke down. No wonder he “wept bitterly”.
I imagine we can all identify with Peter to some extent.
For me, two main things stand out from this sorry episode.
First: Big talk is easy, but what matters is what you do.
I don’t doubt that when Peter promised Jesus his loyalty even unto death he meant exactly what he said. But when it came to the crunch he couldn’t follow it through.
Do you ever “promise more than you can deliver”? How often does the alcoholic declare, “Right, I’ll never touch another drop!” Or the adulterous husband or wife, “That’s it. Never again! From now on I’ll always be true to you...”. On a smaller scale, how often does the habitual late-comer promise to be more organised, or the overweight person to really cut back? But somehow it just doesn’t happen...
Paul writes (1 Corinthians 10:12), “If you think you’re standing firm, watch out that you don’t fall”. Wise words. It’s better not to make a promise at all than to make it and then break it.
Second: We can never know how our faith and loyalty will stand up until we are tested. This is the thing I find most challenging.
We regularly hear reports of Christians in different parts of the world being imprisoned, tortured, even killed for their loyalty to Jesus. And I find myself thinking “Mmm, suppose that was me? Would I stand up as bravely as that? Or would I cave in and renounce my faith?” I know what I would like to think is the answer, but in all honesty I have my doubts: serious doubts.
A tree may look deeply rooted. But you don’t know until it has withstood a hurricane. A bridge may look completely immovable; but suppose there was an earthquake?
In spite of our sometimes grumbles, we Christians in the western world have it pretty easy. But watch out for complacency or arrogance! How many of us really know our true selves?
Challenging stuff. But the story of Peter has a wonderful aftermath.
Here he is, this no-hoper, this big mouth, this failure, sobbing his heart out in public. But where do we find him in literally a matter of days? Answer: preaching Jesus in the centre of Jerusalem to a massive crowd (Acts 2). He has become, humanly speaking, the head of the church.
God doesn’t cast us off! Not if we are truly sorry. He is the God of the second chance - and the fourth, the fifth and the sixth. Of course, we mustn’t let that wonderful truth lead us to be careless or complacent. But I suspect there aren’t many of us for whom it isn’t good news.
Let me add two little footnotes that deepen the impact of this story...
First, we shouldn’t overlook the fact that at least Peter was there, in the courtyard of the high priest. Where were his fellow-apostles? - keeping their heads down, that’s where.
It reminds me of the time Peter tried - and failed - to walk on the water (Matthew 14). All right, yes, he failed - but at least he tried. The other eleven didn’t so much as get out of the boat.
Credit where it’s due...
Second, a question: how did this embarrassing incident about the leader-to-be of the church find its way into the Gospels? Surely it’s the kind of thing that the early church would have wanted to hush up?
Answer: it’s there because the Gospel-writers wanted their readers to know the plain unvarnished truth, however bitter and humiliating - and Peter himself, it seems, made no attempt to suppress it. Again, credit where it’s due.
We are all sinners and failures. So let’s face up to the fact with humility, trusting that God will treat us with the same mercy as he did Simon Peter. Because that’s what he loves to do.
Father God, thank you that your word shows up in such an unflattering light the man who was to become the human foundation stone of the church. Thank you for the hope this gives me. Deal gently with me in my failings, Lord! Amen.
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