Tuesday, April 15, 2025

Peter Remembered

 Jesu Juva

Luke 22:54-62                                                     

April 2, 2025

Lent Midweek 4                          

 Dear saints of our Savior~

        It was perhaps just four hours earlier.  After the Passover meal late that Thursday night, Jesus spoke directly to Peter:  Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail. . . . I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.

        At any other time, on any other night, a warning like this from Jesus would have shaken Peter to his core.  Satan had set his sights on Simon Peter.  Satan demanded to sift and shred Peter like grains of wheat.  And Jesus, our loving Lord, Jesus had gone so far as to pray—to pray specifically for Peter—to pray that his faith would not fail.  And all this followed by a terrifying prediction:  Before the rooster crows, you—Peter!—you will deny me three times. These words of Jesus should have caused a cold shiver to run down the spine of Simon Peter.  Wake up!  Watch out!  Be alert!

        But now fast-forward by perhaps four hours.  Jesus has been arrested and taken to the house of the High Priest.  Peter had followed at a distance; and found a spot in the courtyard.  The blood-red dawn of Friday morning was still a few hours away.  Did Peter still remember what Jesus had said to him earlier?  Were those words of warning still coursing through his memory?  Or had Peter taken that terrible prediction from Jesus and packed it away—pushed it to the back of his mind?  Could he have conveniently forgotten the warning from Jesus—that he had been targeted by Satan?

        We all do that.  Under far less intense circumstances—on our very private path through times of temptation—we fail to remember that we, too, have been targeted.  We ignore the vivid warnings from God’s word directed at us:  Your adversary the devil prowls around like a roaring lion, seeking someone to devour.  Resist him!  Our approach is more casual—more compartmentalized.  Like Peter, we all follow Jesus—but sometimes at a distance—sometimes forgetting that the enemy has set his sights on us.

        Perhaps Peter hasn’t entirely forgotten.  There’s evidence of a war going on inside this disciple.  There’s a mighty struggle in Peter between good and evil—between saving his own life and loving the Lord Jesus.  None of the other disciples dared to do what Peter did—to set foot in the enemy camp and risk being arrested.  It took no small amount of courage for Peter just to be there, huddled by the fire, cautiously watching and waiting.  Doesn’t Peter know what will happen next?  We know; for Jesus predicted it.

        Three different people finger Simon Peter as one of the perpetrators.  First, a servant girl identifies Peter as if from a police line-up:  This man also was with him!  And Peter denied it.  Right there Peter has lied to save himself.  He has lied and denied.  But he had no other choice, did he?  And then once again:  You also are one of them!  And Peter lied and denied it.  Strike two.

        The war within Peter now escalates unbearably.  His desperation to save himself—that powerful drive for self-preservation—has kicked into high gear.  The lies and the denials are multiplying.  But still, he stays.  He doesn’t run.  He could have quietly exited the courtyard.  He could have proved Jesus wrong (only twice, not three times!).  But even now, as the danger mounts, his cover blown, Simon Peter sweats it out, and loves the Lord, and does not leave.

        Right now at this moment—after the second denial, but before the third—the forces warring in Peter’s soul seem terribly equal:  A tremendous, selfless love for Jesus keeps him there; while a consuming self-interest keeps him lying.  He denies himself to stay by his Lord.  He denies his Lord to save himself.  Peter is paralyzed between the good that he would . . . and the evil that he is.

        Dear disciples of Jesus, do you see this?  Do you understand this?  Do you recognize this?  The war inside of Peter rages also inside of you.  Peter’s paralysis between the good that he would and the evil that he is—that conflict also paralyzes you.  You have been in the courtyard with Peter.  You have watched from a distance.  You have lied and denied.  You have carelessly and casually surrendered yourself to sin.  Who will deliver us from this evil?  Who will rescue us from such a time of trial?

        For Peter, the tension can’t be sustained much longer.  Not another hour passes before Peter’s accent gives him away:  Certainly this man also was with him, for he too is a Galilean!  And for the third time, Peter says no.  Peter denies the Lord.  And immediately, on cue, as predicted, while Peter was still speaking, the rooster crowed. 

        In the seconds that follow, three things happen:  Jesus looked at Peter.  Peter remembered the saying of the Lord.  Peter went out and wept bitterly. 

        In that moment of satanic sifting—in that moment of damning denial—in that sin so predictable and predicted—Jesus offers help and healing.  The Lord looked at Peter.  It wasn’t a scowl of shame.  There was love in that look from Jesus.  The Savior’s gaze seems to say it all:  I will never leave you.  Even when you are at your worst and your guilt is unbearable, I will never turn away from you. Yes, you have denied me; but I will never deny you. 

        We see that same look of love directed at us from the cross.  There Jesus bears the weight of all our sin, all our evil—all our lying and denying.  Peter is not abandoned.  And neither are we.  We are not left alone in our sin.  But our Savior from sin looks on us in love from His holy cross. 

        With that one look from the Lord, St. Luke tells us, Peter remembered.  Peter remembered the saying of the Lord.  Peter remembered what Jesus had said—the warning our Lord had given—so personal, so specific, so loving.  Peter remembered his sin.  Peter loved his life and lost it.  And for what he had lost, Peter broke down and wept bitterly.

        God grant us each to weep with tears like those.  For Peter wept for reasons of repentance.  Peter remembered Jesus’ words—even when those words condemned him—and Peter repented of his sinful self-love.  This is what repentance looks like:  Peter remembered and repented.  Blessed tears!  Blessed remembrance!  Blessed repentance!         Peter remembered the Lord’s words; and in that blessed remembrance came rescue and deliverance.  We, too, remember the words of Jesus.  We, too, draw our life from those words.  Those words confront us and comfort us.  Those words drive us to tears and wash away the stain of our sin.  Those words absolve us:  Your guilt is taken away.  Your iniquity is pardoned.  Your debt is paid in full by Jesus.

        In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

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