NR 14
November 14
Mark 14:66 to end. Peter denies Christ.
Is there anyone who loves the Lord, who has read Peter's history without trembling? Who would have believed that so affectionate a disciple should prove so faithless in the hour of trial! But man, even when renewed by divine grace, is liable to fall. Though his spirit is made willing to obey, the flesh still inclines him to sin. The apostle Paul declares, "For I delight in the law of God, after the inward man; but I see another law in my members, warring against the law of my mind." (Rom. 7:22, 23.) There is also a tempter always going about as a roaring lion, seeking whom he may devour.
The fall of Peter is related by all the four evangelists, and some peculiar circumstances are mentioned by each.
The first denial was made while Peter stood by the fire, in the palace. The damsel who kept the door accused him of being a disciple. Peter, taken by surprise, denied the fact. We know not what evil he feared, when he had recourse to this sinful means of escape—whether he thought he should be turned out of the palace, and deprived of the opportunity of seeing the end, or whether he dreaded lest he should be apprehended, like his Master, and exposed to the same insults and injuries. It appears that several other people, besides the doorkeeper, taxed him with having some connection with the holy prisoner; but he persisted in the lie he had already told. This was the first denial.
Finding he was known, he withdrew into the porch, and then—the cock crew. But he attended not to this faithful monitor, nor did he even remember the Lord's warning. While in the porch, both a maid and a man recognized him, and this time he added an oath to his declaration. This was his second denial.
Soon afterwards he returned into the palace, and was discovered, by his peculiar manner of speaking, to come from that part of Israel called Galilee; and as it was well known that most of Christ's disciples were Galileans, it was immediately supposed that he was one of them. On this occasion Peter not only denied his Lord, but he began to curse and to swear. He had now reached an dreadful pitch of iniquity. How much farther he might have gone, none but God knows. Again the cock crew. This time Peter understood the voice of the bird. And why? Because at the same moment that the cock crew, the Lord turned and looked upon him. It is probable that Jesus was now standing among the servants, enduring their insults. His eyes had lately been blindfolded, his face smitten, and spit upon. That face, thus bruised and defiled, those eyes which had shed so many tears, were turned towards Peter. No wonder he could not bear the look. He went again into the porch, and wept bitterly. Then all the past was brought before his mind; all the love that he had experienced, all the vows he had made, and all the base denials of which he had been guilty— all—all rushed to his remembrance. "And when he thought thereon, he wept."
There are such moments in the believer's experience. Blessed moments! in which he learns more of his own wickedness, and of his Lord's goodness, than he has learned in years that have gone before. Some actions, which he had never viewed in their true light, are all at once seen to be dark offences against his gracious God. No tears shed for blasted prospects, or heavy bereavements, are as bitter as these. Yet even then he must not say, "There is no hope." Peter did not read in his Master's look, "There is no forgiveness for you." How could he have lived during the next two days, had he despaired of pardon! Had he been without hope, could he have run so eagerly to the tomb of his risen Lord, and even ventured to enter in! It was the thought that he had sinned against a Savior ready to forgive, that made his tears flow so abundantly. It was the same thought that kept him from despair. His Savior had once said, "I have prayed for you that your faith fail not." And it failed not.
True penitence is a mixture of sorrow and faith. The penitent says with sorrow, "My sin is before me;" and with faith, "There is forgiveness with you." Such is the broken heart which God will not despise. Let this be our prayer—
"If near the pit I rashly stray,
Before I wholly fall away,
The keen conviction dart—
Recall me by that pitying look,
That kind, upbraiding glance which broke
Unfaithful Peter's heart."