by Max Lucado
The Sun was in the water before Peter noticed it—a
wavy circle of gold on the surface of the sea. A
fisherman is usually the first to spot the sun rising
over the crest of the hills. It means his night of labor
is finally over.
But not for this fisherman. Though the light
reflected on the lake, the darkness lingered in Peter's
heart. The wind chilled, but he didn't feel it. His
friends slept soundly, but he didn't care. The nets at
his feet were empty, the sea had been a miser, but Peter
wasn't thinking about that.
His thoughts were far from the Sea of Galilee. His
mind was in Jerusalem, reliving an anguished night. As
the boat rocked, his memories raced:
the clanking of the Roman guard,
the flash of a sword and the duck of a head,
a touch for Malchus, a rebuke for Peter,
soldiers leading Jesus away.
"What was I thinking?" Peter mumbled to himself as he
stared at the bottom of the boat. Why did I run?
Peter had run; he had turned his back on his dearest
friend and run. We don't know where. Peter may not have
known where. He found a hole, a hut, an abandoned
shed—he found a place to hide and he hid.
He had bragged, "Everyone else may stumble ... but I
will not" (Matt. 26:33). Yet he did. Peter did what he
swore he wouldn't do. He had tumbled face first into the
pit of his own fears. And there he sat. All he could
hear was his hollow promise. Everyone else may
stumble ... but I will not. Everyone else ... I will
not. I will not. I will not. A war raged within the
fisherman.
At that moment the instinct to survive collided with
his allegiance to Christ, and for just a moment
allegiance won. Peter stood and stepped out of hiding
and followed the noise till he saw the torch-lit jury in
the courtyard of Caiaphas.
He stopped near a fire and warmed his hands. The fire
sparked with irony. The night had been cold. The fire
was hot. But Peter was neither. He was lukewarm.
"Peter followed at a distance," Luke described (22:54
NIV).
He was loyal ... from a distance. That night he went
close enough to see, but not close enough to be seen.
The problem was, Peter was seen. Other people near the
fire recognized him. "You were with him," they had
challenged. "You were with the Nazarene." Three times
people said it, and each time Peter denied it. And each
time Jesus heard it.
Please understand that the main character in this
drama of denial is not Peter, but Jesus. Jesus, who
knows the hearts of all people, knew the denial of his
friend. Three times the salt of Peter's betrayal stung
the wounds of the Messiah.
How do I know Jesus knew? Because of what he did.
Then "the Lord turned and looked straight at Peter"
(Luke 22:61 NIV). When the rooster crowed, Jesus turned.
His eyes searched for Peter and they found him. At that
moment there were no soldiers, no accusers, no priests.
At that predawn moment in Jerusalem there were only two
people—Jesus and Peter.
