Luke 22:54-62 "Peter From Denial to Restoration"

When I was young, like five or six years old, I used to stand in the back of the neighbor girl’s pickup holding my uncle’s electric guitar and sing Elvis songs. My grandma let me use the guitar when my uncle wasn’t around—he would absolutely not have approved. I wouldn’t let a five year old carry my guitar around outside either.
Well, I did it all the time. One day, while standing on the edge of the truck bed—you’re going to be so surprised—I dropped it. It landed on the street with a crack! Really jacked it up. Scratches and dents from the rocks. It was bad. I felt bad. So I did what any five year old boy would do; I put it back in the case and never spoke of it. Never touched it again. Got away with it, too.

Now you know my terrible secret. You don’t have to worry about keeping it because both Grandma and Uncle Bob died a long time ago. 

You ever done something like that? Something you felt really bad about. Something that couldn’t be undone? I have so many things. I wasn’t supposed to drive my parents' groovy Dodge conversion van but I did anyway and backed it into a pole. I wasn’t supposed to drive my girlfriend’s 1964 Galaxie 500, either—I certainly wasn’t supposed to drive it fifty miles an hour down the alley and scrape the side of the car against some garbage sticking out of a trash can. I didn’t get away with either of those things, both my dad and my girlfriend are here in this room to testify against me.

We’re going through the Gospel of Luke verse by verse, and we’re in chapter 22. This is the night Jesus was betrayed by Judas. A bunch of Roman soldiers and temple guards show up, arrest Jesus and put Him in chains.

Then they seized him and led him away, bringing him into the high priest’s house, and Peter was following at a distance. Luke 22:54

Jesus had told them not to interfere with the arrest, don’t try to tag along, but you know, Peter does what Peter wants. He’s the one who pulled his sword and tried to put up a fight. He’s the one who said he was willing to go to prison and even die if he had to—so, Peter disobediently follows at a distance while the other disciples run away. 

The soldiers and temple guards took Jesus in chains to the house of the high priest. It’s the middle of the night, it’s cold. Peter definitely shouldn’t but he manages to sneak in and tries to be inconspicuous sitting there by a charcoal fire with some of the arresting entourage and staff of the high priest’s household. 

I’m sure he came up with some way to justify what he’s doing. He cares about his friend, curious, wants to see what happens to Jesus—follow to the bitter end. Probably thinks he’s being brave. Loyal. Obedient would have been better.

How often do we find ourselves in places we shouldn’t be? Doing things we shouldn’t be doing? Acting like unbelievers. Just flirting with disaster.

And when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and sat down together, Peter sat down among them. Then a servant girl, seeing him as he sat in the light and looking closely at him, said, “This man also was with him.” But he denied it, saying, “Woman, I do not know him.” Luke 22:55-57

So much for being willing to go to prison and die. One of the maids thinks she recognizes Peter as one of Jesus’ followers and he's like, “Girl, you’re outta your mind! I don’t know anyone named ‘Jesus!”

And a little later someone else saw him and said, “You also are one of them.” But Peter said, “Man, I am not.” Luke 22:58

Some dude points at Peter, “You’re one of the disciples!” He’s just surrounded by a bunch of snitches! This time Peter not only denies knowing Jesus, he denies his brothers, he denies being a Christian at all. It is not going well for brave sir Peter. But he seems to be getting away with it. Like the guy who jumps off a tall building and about halfway down he thinks, “So far, so good.”

Peter just sitting there, where he’s not supposed to be, keeping warm by a charcoal fire while Jesus is being beat up by temple goons inside.

And after an interval of about an hour still another insisted, saying, “Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean.” But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. Luke 22:59-60

Apparently Galileans had thick accents. He might as well be wearing a t-shirt that says, “Kiss me I’m from Galilee.” This time Peter not only denies Jesus, and his friends, he denies where he came from. Probably tries to change his accent, sound more “southern” (because Galilee is in the north), “Man, I ain’t got no idear what yer talkin’ bout!” Trying to get away with it again.

Luke is actually being kind to Peter. In the Gospel of Mark, which is based on Peter’s account of what happened, it paints an even worse picture. Says he called curses down on himself and began to swear. “I swear to God, man, I don’t know this Jesus person! I’ll be damned if I’m one of His followers!” 

And then he hears it. The rooster crows. All the hair raises on his arms and he gets those goosebump chills—suddenly aware that he’s not getting away with anything. He sees Jesus in the distance being brought back outside…

And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly. Luke 22:61-62

Right after his third denial, the rooster went off like an alarm clock. Jesus turns and looks at Peter, they make eye contact. This is a heartbreaking moment. I don’t think it was a look of “shame on you,” I think it was a look of disappointment, of sadness—sad for his friend, sad for the situation, sad for how awful this was going to be for Peter. 

He remembers what Jesus had said about denying Him three times before the rooster crowed—which was a very strange and specific detail. Then, in that moment when it happens, dude! All the thoughts and emotions that have to be going on when Jesus looks at him. Peter had to be thinking: He knew this was going to happen. This man really is God. My friend is God and I just lied and said I don’t know Him. I’m a coward. I was all talk before. I couldn’t even stand up to a servant girl.

He probably remembers some other things Jesus said, too.

Like if we deny Him before men that He’ll deny us before angels. That sounds bad. He said on the last day when people are lined up trying to get into the kingdom of heaven when the world is ending and people are desperate, that some people will say, “But Lord, Lord I did all these things in Your name,” and He warned us, said He’ll look at some of them and say, “Go away, I never knew you.” “Deny me and I’ll deny you.”

Peter had to be thinking, “What have I done?”

And he left the courtyard weeping bitterly. Ugly cry. Loud sobbing. Inconsolable. A broken man.

He had followed Jesus after the arrest, even though he was told not to interfere. He justified his disobedience somehow. And one sin leads to another. Before he knew it, he had completely denied Jesus three times and called curses down on his head. 

When he remembered the word of the Lord—the moment Jesus looked at him—that was the beginning of repentance. The beginning of reconciliation and forgiveness. 

Until the rooster reminded him of what Jesus had said, Peter thought he was getting away with it. 

Ever been there? Maybe not flat out denying Jesus in front of strangers but…

You go somewhere you shouldn’t go, do something you shouldn’t do, say something you absolutely know you shouldn’t have said. Sin up a storm as if God doesn’t see you, as if He won’t find out, as if you’ll get away with it.

Maybe you didn’t actually deny Jesus but you acted like an unbeliever. Maybe you joined in a little slander and gossip talking about a friend or a family member. Say things you definitely wouldn’t want them to know you said. If they found out how you’d been talking about them, they’d certainly be upset—if they confronted you about it, asked why you said such hurtful things, if you were caught, you’d probably be upset about it, too. 

Maybe you didn’t actually deny that you believe in Jesus but when people start busting on the church and Christians, you don’t exactly stand up for your brothers and sisters, either. 

I’ve definitely been there. For a while, when I was in my 20s, I wouldn’t call myself a Christian. I never stopped believing in Jesus, never stopped praying, reading the Bible, I never even stopped going to church—but if someone asked if I was a Christian, I’d say, “Not in any way that most people mean “Christian.” I thought too many religious/churchy types made Jesus look bad—which made me look bad—so, I pretended like I wasn’t part of that mess.

Well. You’re either part of the church or you're not. You’re either part of the body of Christ or you’re not. Being part of the family of God—it’s the same as any family—we don’t get to choose who they are. We all have crazy relatives. We’re not going to like everyone but we are supposed to love them. Love is a commitment, it isn’t an emotion, it’s a way of treating people. Treating them with kindness, patience, goodness, self-control. Meaning, we control how we treat them, how we talk to them, how we talk about them, even when they’re not around. Same with our church family.

Jesus said anyone who says they love God but hate their brother is a liar. A hypocrite. How can you love God who you haven’t seen if you can’t love the person in front of you. Loving people isn’t about how you feel about them, it’s not some involuntary emotional response, it’s mostly just being kind to them. It took me a long time to realize that.

So, right around thirty I stopped being such a snob about my faith. I started calling myself by my family name again—yes, I’m a Christian. Started trying to find ways to be kind. I know I’m still not great at it but I’m a lot better than I used to be. I even try not to argue with people who have different ideas about what it means to follow Jesus and beliefs about what He teaches. I try. I’m just saying, that didn’t even used to be a goal.

“Oh, Frank, did you hear that? Someone has a different idea about one of your favorite theological nit picks! Surely you can’t let that just exist out there uncorrected!” My heart starts racing, I get all excited—start thinking of all the ways to jump in there and start fixing all those heresies!

Learning to listen to people, even when I think I already know what they’re going to say, is still an area I can grow in. Arguments are not helpful. People don’t usually change their mind in an argument, they usually just dig in deeper. If we really want to share the love and hope of the Gospel with people, we have to ask more questions, listen more, build more relationships, wait for them to be interested in what we have to say about Jesus before we start shoving Him down their throat.

I’ve messed that up a lot. I’ve messed up following Jesus in so many ways—so have you, don’t look at me like that. Ha. I talk about grace a lot around here, and forgiveness, how you’re forgiven because of Jesus. And that’s all true but I don’t want you to think because forgiveness is free that it’s cheap. Because it’s certainly not cheap—it’s easily the most expensive thing in the universe. Even in this story, Jesus is starting to pay for it. He already has cuts and bruises on His face when He looks at Peter across that courtyard. So you are forgiven but that grace isn’t cheap. You’re forgiven for all the ways you’ve fallen short, for all the ways you’ve hurt people, for all the wicked, foolish rebellions where you lived like a person who has rejected God and denied Jesus—but your forgiveness came at a great cost.

Peter had blown it. All his bold, loud talk about how faithful he was going to be had come to this. A bunch of nothing.

Little peek ahead on what’s about to happen, spoiler alert! Jesus is going to be put in front of various kangaroo courts, He’ll be executed by Rome on a cross later this same day, which is Friday, and on Sunday morning, He’s going to rise from the dead. Some of the female followers will be the first to discover He’s alive, when they find an empty tomb with an angel sitting inside it. The angel will say,

“You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has risen; he is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.” Mark 16:6

“The disciples and Peter.” Is that cold and brutal? Is it a dis? Like Peter isn’t one of the disciples anymore? Or is it comforting like, tell the disciples, especially Peter who’s really in the dumps. Either way, Luke tells us that Peter is the only one with any hope that what they’re saying is true and he immediately runs to the tomb to see for himself. 

But the Gospel of John gives us a wonderful account of Peter being restored. The disciples had gone back to Galilee after the resurrection like they were told. 

I don’t want to end today with Peter broken and sad. So, this is from the 21st chapter of The Gospel of John. Peter and some of the disciples had been fishing all night but hadn’t caught anything—it’s just like the time when Peter first met Jesus. They hadn’t caught any fish and Jesus shows up and tells them to throw the net on the other side of the boat.

I mean, that’s not how fishing works but it is how Jesus works. They did what He said and caught all the fish—it happened three years ago and it happens again this morning. Peter jumps in the water and swims to shore, so eager to see the Lord.

You know how sometimes smells can take you back to another time and another place?

When he got there, Jesus had already made breakfast using a charcoal fire. I’ll bet that reminded Peter of something.

After they ate, Jesus looks at Peter and says, “Simon, Son of John, do you love me more than these?”

Calls him by the name his mother gave him, not his nickname. “You still think you’re the greatest disciple? Still think you love me more than all the other guys, Simon?”

Peter says, “Lord, You know I love you.”

Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” Then asks him again, “Simon, do you? Do you love me? You sure?”

 Peter says, “You know I do, Lord.”

Jesus responds, “Tend my sheep.” Then asks for the third time, “Do you love me, Simon?” 

He’s not asking how Peter feels about Him. Love isn’t a feeling, it’s a commitment, it’s how you treat someone—it’s your actions toward them and about them. “Do you love me, Peter? Because you didn’t act like it when you said you didn’t know me. Do you love me, Simon?”

Jesus is looking at him. The smell of charcoal is taking him back to that courtyard. Peter is getting really sad because Jesus keeps asking the same question. 

Peter says, “Lord, You know everything, you know I love You.”

Three denials. Three affirmations. This wasn’t penance, this was kindness. Mercy.

Jesus tells Peter, “Then feed my sheep.” By the way, the word for “feed” there means to pasture the sheep, take care of them, protect them as well as feed them. This is why the leader of the church is called the Pastor—it’s a shepherd concept.

This goes back to what Jesus had told Peter in the upper room on the night of the Passover meal. When Peter said he would follow Jesus no matter what, never fail Him. The same night when Jesus told him he would deny him three times before the rooster crowed. Jesus said that he had prayed for Peter’s faith to not fail—but then it did. And here we are. Well, this was the moment Jesus had prayed for, for after he returned, after he repented, when he swallowed his pride and came back to Jesus. This is the moment Jesus prayed that Peter’s faith would not fail. “Feed my sheep.” This is what Peter was supposed to do with his faith—give the other disciples strength, because they had also failed. Jesus isn’t only restoring Peter as a disciple, He’s restoring him as the leader of the disciples. 

Jesus wants to know if Peter loves Him. This is what loving Him looks like—it looks like taking care of His people. 

They will know we are Christians by our love for each other. You are a beloved child of God, which means God will show you kindness. In response, Jesus tells you, “beloved, love one another! “Feed my sheep” means “strengthen your brothers.”

So that’s what I’m trying to do here—give you strength. 

No matter what you’ve done or left undone. No matter what secret things you’re trying to hide, trying to get away with, pretending like they never happened. Things that can’t be undone. They feel like scratches on your soul. Permanent scars. Things that make you hate yourself. We all have them. I agree with you, those things are terrible. You’re terrible. The shame and guilt you feel are real. You’re not wrong about any of that. We don’t pretend like sin doesn’t exist. We don’t just put it back in the case and never speak of it again. 

But you are forgiven. Not because of the agony you’re putting yourself through. Not because of how much you beat yourself up for it. You’re forgiven because Christ forgives you. He already took the beating for you. It’s His idea to forgive you. You’re not getting away with your sin for free, you’re getting away with it because He took it off your hands—at great cost. This is not cheap grace, it’s the most expensive thing in the universe.

Do you feel the weight being lifted off you? No more guilt. No more condemnation. You are free. 

Maybe you feel it, maybe you don’t. It doesn’t matter. Forgiveness isn’t a feeling either. Like God’s love, like His mercy, it’s something He does for you. It’s a fact. You are restored. AMEN.