John 18:15-27

 

¹⁵ 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, ¹⁶ 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. ¹⁷ 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.” ¹⁸ 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. ¹⁹ The high priest then questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching. ²⁰ Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. ²¹ Why do you ask me? Ask those who have heard me what I said to them; they know what I said.” ²² When he had said these things, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” ²³ Jesus answered him, “If what I said is wrong, bear witness about the wrong; but if what I said is right, why do you strike me?” ²⁴ Annas then sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest. ²⁵ Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”²⁶ 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?” ²⁷ Peter again denied it, and at once a rooster crowed.

 

In the last church I pastored I spent a great deal of time reading the old minutes of the church.  They began in 1849 and I had the original handwritten minutes.  What was recorded in those minutes was interesting and sometimes strange and often very inspiring.

One of the interesting things I noted was how that church handled issues of church discipline in the mid-19^th century.  As I read the minutes, I noticed a couple of names that would recur time and time again in discipline situations.

One name was that of a man in the church at that time who apparently had a penchant for swearing, drinking alcohol and gambling.  More than once he was brought before the church and placed under the discipline of the church.  Then he would repent and be restored.

One of the records about one of the discipline situations he was involved in struck me as interesting.  He had been brought before the church for some combination of drunkenness and gambling, but this record stated something extra.  In the list of charges was the phrase, “He denied his membership in the church.”

Now, to be perfectly honest, that struck me at the time as somewhat humorous.  I mean, imagine this guy in some dingy hovel.  He’s drinking and cursing and gambling with his friends.  One of his buddies looks up and says, “Hey, aren’t you a member of First Baptist?  What are you doing down here with us.” And he, to avoid the unpleasant implication, responds, “Me?  A member of First Baptist?  No way.  I have nothing to do with those people.”

There is a kind of pitiful but humorous thought here…but it is much more pitiful than humorous.  In fact, the more I thought about it the darker it became.  It is no small thing to deny a relationship, to disavow any association with another person or a group of people to whom you belong.  And to deny a relationship in an effort to avoid condemnation seems especially cowardly and shameful.  As I reflected on it, I could see how the church at that time viewed this man’s denial of association as a flagrant and cowardly compounding of his other sins.

I suspect there is something within Christianity that is especially averse to cowardly denials of association.  After all, one of the most notorious sins in all of Scripture involves this very act.  I am speaking, of course, of Peter and his three-fold denial of his association and relationship with Jesus.  In truth, Peter’s sin and the sin of this 19^th century Baptist Christian from Georgia were one and the same: they denied a relationship with Jesus and the people of God so that they could avoid the pain and discomfort of having to acknowledge their association and relationship.

It is a dangerous thing to try to grade sins and I think we should avoid it, but let me suggest that there is something about Peter’s crime here that justly deserves its shameful reputation.  The fact that Jesus had foretold Peter’s denials does not lessen the shock of the act when it happens.  It is, to be sure, a scandalous and unbelievable act.  And yet, it is an act that we cannot condemn dispassionately, that we cannot feign surprise over.

One of the most disquieting aspects of Peter’s denials is how we see ourselves – our own sins, our own cowardly disassociations, our own denials – in his actions.  We may marvel at Peter’s sins…but only so much.

This scene is one of shame and degradation.  Jesus is hauled before the authorities and Peter lurks in the shadows denying that he knows Him.  There is shame here, but there is also irony here.  In truth, there are four painful ironies in this story that challenge us in our own lives today.  I invite you to consider these ironies with me now.

I.  Irony #1:  Jesus invites His accusers to ask His disciples for the truth at the same time that His disciple is lying to the accusers who are asking him for the truth. (v.15-21)

John’s account begins with some interesting details about Peter’s entry into the court of the high priest.

¹⁵ 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, ¹⁶ 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.¹⁷ 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.” ¹⁸ 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 begin by noting that Peter is not in the courtyard alone.  “Another disciple” is with him.  We learn from this passage that this other disciple “was known to the high priest.”  How well he was known we do not know, but it was well enough to grant him entry into the courtyard of the high priest.  Furthermore, his word was enough to get Peter in as well.

This other disciple has traditionally been thought of as John, the author of the gospel.  There is no real reason to dispute that.  So on John’s word Peter is admitted.  As Peter enters through the door, the young lady guarding the door asks him a question that leads to Peter’s first denial.

¹⁷ 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.” ¹⁸ 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.

The way that she asks this question, leading with the negative, temptingly invites Peter’s denial.  Her question assumes and almost prods Peter towards a negative:  “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?”  Peter gives in to the temptation and responds bluntly, “I am not.”  This shameful denial sets the stage for the first painful irony of this scene, for just as Peter is being questioned, so, too, is Jesus.

¹⁹ The high priest then questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching. ²⁰ Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. ²¹ Why do you ask me? Ask those who have heard me what I said to them; they know what I said.”

Annas wants Jesus to explain Himself.  Jesus responds by telling Annas to interview or call witnesses. Many commentators point out that Jesus is subtly pointing out the “kangaroo” nature of this kangaroo court.  Proper protocol and procedure in a trial involved witnesses.  Annas directly questions Jesus and Jesus responds by denying that there is anything He’s been hiding.  In fact, He has “spoken openly to the world…I have said nothing in secret.”

What He says next creates a painful irony in light of Peter’s simultaneous denials:  “Ask those who have heard me what I said to them; they know what I said.”

Do you see the painful irony of this scene?  Jesus invites His accusers to ask His disciples for the truth at the same time that His disciple is lying to the accusers who are asking him for the truth.

It is hard to describe how uncomfortable, how shameful, or painful this image is.  Here stands Jesus before His accusers.  He is questioned.  He responds:  “Hey, go ask my disciples.  Go ask anybody.  I’ve said what I’ve said openly.  Go ask those who heard me and they’ll tell you who I am and what I’m about.”

And there, behind his back is Peter and a young girl.  The girl is doing precisely what Jesus told Annas to do.  She is asking His disciple for an explanation.  She is asking the most basic question of all:  you know this man, right?  You follow Him?  And he denies it!

How can the accusers of Jesus get an answer from the followers of Jesus when the followers of Jesus will not even acknowledge that they know Him?

There’s an old joke about the Lone Ranger and Tonto that illustrates what is happening here.  The Lone Ranger and Tonto are riding out across the plain when suddenly they find themselves surrounded by a large war party of hostile Indians.  They are completely surrounded and the Indians on whose land they are riding are not happy.  This is not going to turn out well.  So the Lone Ranger turns to Tonto and says, “Well, Tonto, at least we have each other.”  At which time Tonto responds and says, “What do you mean ‘we,’ white man?!”

We laugh…but not here.  Jesus essentially says to Annas, “Hey, it’s not like I stand alone up here.”  And the leader of His disciples, His friend, one of the inner circle, His right hand man says, “Yeah you do.” Jesus, of course, knew this would happen…but oh the pain of it when it happened!

And it happens again and again and again.

I imagine the Lord Jesus saying to the devil, “My friends, my disciples, my church, my people, they will tell the truth about me.  They will speak up.  I need not bear witness to myself.  There are plenty who will do that for me.”

And here we are.  And it seems like we are either too busy or too distracted or too quiet or too scared to say a word.  Like Peter, we deny when Jesus would have us speak.  We avoid when Jesus would have us engage.  We say nothing when Jesus would have us proclaim the truth.

II.  Irony #2:  Annas’ “disciple” defends his master’s honor at the same time that Jesus’ disciple refuses to acknowledge his Master at all. (v.22-24)

Jesus challenges Annas, and, in doing so, He invites the hostile reaction of the surrounding mob.

²² When he had said these things, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” ²³ Jesus answered him, “If what I said is wrong, bear witness about the wrong; but if what I said is right, why do you strike me?” ²⁴ Annas then sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.

As if the shame of Peter’s denial was not enough, this officer heightens it by his rude and harsh movement to protect his master’s honor.  The great Greek scholar A.T. Robertson referred to this unnamed officer as “one of the temple police who felt his importance as protector of Annas.”[1]

Why did he react the way he did?  For one thing, he heard the implicit challenge to this farcical trial in Jesus’ reference to witnesses.  He knew that Jesus was already highlighting the illegitimacy of this whole proceeding.  Furthermore, Jesus’ whole posture and tone, while in no way impudent or disrespectful, represented a pretty radical departure from the way that people were supposed to act and the way people normally acted before judges at that time and in that culture.  The ancient Jewish historian Josephus said that, normally, in the ancient world, people stood before their judges with “humility, timidity, and mercy-seeking.”[2]  New Testament scholar Craig Keener has said that, in ancient law courts, “submissive cringing” was “expected by those who appeared before the municipal authorities.”[3]

Jesus was neither timid nor did He cringe.  He stood in the midst of His Father’s will and spoke with an authority that Annas and his household would never have.  So the officer reacts.  He strikes Jesus with his hand.

Just take a moment and think about that.  Think of the irony of this situation.  Annas’ “disciple” defends his master’s honor at the same time that Jesus’ disciple refuses to acknowledge his Master at all.

Obviously, Peter should not have struck Annas the way that this officer struck Jesus.  That whole approach was already condemned by Jesus in Gethsemane when Peter drew his sword.  No, Peter was not wrong for refusing violence.  Peter was tragically and shamefully wrong by not standing with his Savior and Master and Lord at all.

To read this account we reach an inescapable and unbelievable conclusion:  this officer was more concerned with Annas’ honor than Peter was with Jesus’.  This officer was more concerned that Annas be recognized for his earthly authority than Peter was that Jesus be recognized for His Heavenly authority. This officer was quicker to defend Annas’ mistakes than Peter was to defend Jesus’ truth.

And so it goes.  Have you ever noticed how lost people often seem more passionate about defending their lostness than saved people do about defending the truth?  Why the secular officers of our day relish standing with conviction on their mistakes when the people of God cannot even be found many times to defend the truth?

We sit in silence while the world reacts with energy and enthusiasm and passion for their agenda.

If this paid officer can defend his sham boss without even thinking about, could Peter not have mustered the courage to at least stand with King Jesus?

If the world can react with impulsive passion in defense of their cause, why is the church so timid and silent in speaking truth in love for Jesus?

III.  Irony #3:  Jesus embraces great physical pain at the same time that Peter avoids lesser physical discomfort. (v.18, 22, 25)

Into this whole heartbreaking scene we see a twice-repeated detail that takes the irony even higher.  We see this detail in verses 18 and 25:

¹⁸ 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.

 

²⁵ Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”

Yes, twice in our text John tells us that (a) a fire was built to fight off the cold and (b) Peter put himself at the fire to keep himself warm.  Imagine this!  Imagine this!

²² When he had said these things, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?”

 

¹⁸ 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.

 

²⁵ Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”

Do you see the scandalous irony of the contrast between what Jesus is doing and what Peter is doing? Jesus is embracing great physical pain at the same time that Peter is avoiding lesser physical discomfort. Jesus is submitting to being pummeled at the same time that Peter is having to rotate periodically so that his front or back does not get too hot.

Church:  behold in a nutshell the great contrast between Jesus and the whole human race.  Jesus stands in conviction and truth and receives pain.  We stand in cowardly compliance and sell our souls to remain comfortable.

Jesus sets His face towards the hellish horrors of the cross.  We set our faces towards just a little more comfort.

Peter shivers and says, “I need to get a little closer to the fire.”  Jesus stands and says, “I am ready to walk to the cross.”

We may expect this of the world, but this is utterly diabolical when the church does this.  How dare we seek to warm ourselves at the fire when the Son of God is being beaten by wicked men!  How dare we want just a little bigger house, just a little more money, just a little more posh vacation, just a little better car, just a little more expensive clothes, just a few more comforts…when our Jesus is giving Himself over to suffering unjustly on our behalf!

Mary Antoinette is just condemned for saying of the starving peasants, “Let them eat cake!”  She is condemned because it was a callous taunt and a deliberate mocking of an impossibility.  The peasants had no cake to eat.

Mary Antoinette said, “Let them eat cake,” and the people starved.  Jesus says, “Take up your cross,” and we’re busy eating cake!  What a scandal!  What a tragedy!  What a crime against the throne of Heaven when the people of God are busy warming themselves at the fires of our own comfort while the Son of God is bleeding out trying to win the world to His Father.

I’ve always loved that great adoption passage in Romans 8.  Do you know the one?  It is where Paul speaks of the fact that we used to be outside of the family but now we are in the family.  It is where Paul says that we have been adopted into the family of God through the blood of Jesus.

But, to be honest, I’ve always felt awkward about how this passage ends.  The whole passage is beautiful and moving.  It lends itself to sentimentality:  we were homeless orphans but now we are in the family. And we love to quote these verses where we are told that we can cry out to God as, “Abba!” as “Father!” But have you ever noticed how this section ends?  Listen:

¹² So then, brothers, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh.¹³ For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. ¹⁴ For all who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. ¹⁵ For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons, by whom we cry, “Abba! Father!” ¹⁶ The Spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God, ¹⁷ and if children, then heirs—heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ, provided we suffer with him in order that we may also be glorified with him. [italics added]

That last phrase seems so awkward…and so necessary.  You cannot claim to be a co-heir with Jesus, to be a brother of Jesus, if you will sit by silently while He suffers, if you will not stand with Him in the mission of the gospel in the world today, if you will choose the lesser gods of comfort over Him.  This does not mean that the Christian life is nothing but suffering.  But it does ask the question, “When it comes time to choose between standing with Jesus and paying a price or denying Jesus to maintain your comfort, which will you choose?”

Peter chose the warm fire.  Oftentimes so do we.

Oh, church:  when your Savior stands before a hostile world, will you stand with Him, or will you deny him around the warm fires of the world?  

IV.  Irony #4:  Peter refuses to pay for a crime he committed at the same time Jesus is paying for crimes He did not commit. (v.25-27)

John offers us yet another tantalizing detail that highlights yet another terrible irony.

²⁵ Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.”

Here is the second denial.  The question posed to Peter is structurally the same as the first.  It assumes a negative answer:  “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?”  Peter gives the same terse response: “I am not.”

Then, however, the third question comes right on the heals of the second.  How it comes and the person through whom it comes increases the awkwardness of this scene exponentially.

²⁶ 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?”

John essentially tells us three things about this questioner:

• He worked for the high priest.
• He was related to Malchus, the man whose ear Peter cut off in Gethsemane.
• He was present in Gethsemane when Peter cut his relative’s ear off.

These last two details are very important and introduce a new wrinkle into Peter’s third denial.  What this means is the man is not merely asking Peter if he is a disciple, he is getting around to figuring out that Peter is the disciple who committed the crime of drawing a sword and hacking the ear off of (a) a relative of his and (b) a member an arresting party.  In other words, his connection to Malchus and his question suggest that Peter is being backed into a corner where he may have a violent crime (i.e., attacking a member of the arresting party with a sword) pinned on him.  In other words, what is at stake here is likely Peter’s own arrest and Peter’s own guilt.  If Peter says, “Yes, you saw me in the garden,” it is a mere step or two before the guy says, “I thought so…and I remember what you did!  Guards!  Arrest this man!”

You must grasp the ironic predicament Peter is faced with.  To acknowledge Jesus means that Peter will have to pay for his crime.  The response is predictable and tragic.

²⁷ Peter again denied it, and at once a rooster crowed.

His denial, and the likely reasons for his denial, highlight the most startling irony of the whole scene: Peter refuses to pay for a crime he committed at the same time Jesus is paying for crimes He did not commit.  Peter denies his actual guilt at the same time that Jesus accepts a guilt that is not His.

He denies and the rooster crows.  In Luke 22, Luke offers this additional information:

⁶⁰ But Peter said, “Man, I do not know what you are talking about.” And immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. ⁶¹ 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.” ⁶² And he went out and wept bitterly.

The cock crows.

And Jesus turns and looks at Peter.

And Peter now understands.

“And he went out and wept bitterly.”

No doubt he did.  His crimes were great.  His crimes were cowardly.  His crimes were shameful.

He said nothing when Jesus said, “Ask those who heard me.”

He did nothing while Annas’ officer protected his honor.

He chose the warm fire while Jesus choose the brutal cross.

And He avoided punishment for crimes which were his at the same time that Jesus accepted punishment for crimes that were not.”

And the cock crowed.

And Jesus turned and looked him in the eye.

In Elizabeth Barrett Browning’s beautiful poem, “The Look,” she reflects on Jesus looking up at Peter after Peter’s third denial.

The Saviour looked on Peter. Ay, no word,

No gesture of reproach; the Heavens serene

Though heavy with armed justice, did not lean

Their thunders that way: the forsaken Lord

Looked only, on the traitor. None record

What that look was, none guess; for those who have seen

Wronged lovers loving through a death-pang keen,

Or pale-cheeked martyrs smiling to a sword,

Have missed Jehovah at the judgment-call.

And Peter, from the height of blasphemy–

‘I never knew this man ‘–did quail and fall

As knowing straight THAT GOD; and turned free

And went out speechless from the face of all

And filled the silence, weeping bitterly.

“And he went out and wept bitterly.”

And so do I.  And so do I.  For I am Peter.  I am Peter.

Surely Peter received the wrath of the Jesus he denied, right?  Surely I receive the wrath of the Jesus I have denied, right?  Surely you will receive the wrath of the Jesus you have denied, right?

Wrong.

Wrong.

For here is the awesome truth of the matter:  Jesus came to die for Peter as well.  I am shocked at Peter’s denials.  I am shocked at my denials.  Jesus is not shocked at all.

He did not come for the righteous.  He came for the wicked.  He came to save the lost and He came to save hypocritical church members.  He came to save Annas in his self-righteousness.  He came to save the brutal officer in his violent rage.  He came to save good John and his commendable but still-insufficient virtues.  And He came to save Peter:  lying, denying, comfort-seeking, Jesus-abandoning, unfaithful Peter.

He came to save us all.  John will write later in his first letter:

8 If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us. 9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.

So come Peter.  Come John.  Come Annas.  Come officer.  Come Malchus.  Come relative of Malchus. Come little girl guarding the door.  Come those of you around the fire.  Come one.  Come all.  For He is standing there for you.  He is taking the blows for you.  He is taking the pain for you.  And by His stripes you will be healed.