A God of Second Chances
In all the accounts recorded in the Bible about human failure, the night of Peter’s denial rates right up there at the top. We can relate to Peter’s shortcoming when we are honest with ourselves. Who of us hasn’t had a big fail in one time or another? A moment in which we did the wrong thing and continue to regret to this day?
It wasn’t as if Peter didn’t have any warning. Jesus had told him just hours earlier: “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan has asked permission to sift you like wheat; but I have prayed for you, that your faith may not fail; and that you, when once you have turned again, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:31-32, NASB). It wasn’t as if Peter had anything but good intentions: “Lord, I am ready to go both to prison and to death!” (Luke 22:33, NASB). It wasn’t that Peter lacked confidence: “Even if though all may fall away, yet I will not” (Mark 14:29, NASB).
If you had asked Peter if he was up for a big challenge that night, there’s no doubt he would have affirmed that with zero hesitation. He was so sure of himself, when Jesus brought him and two other disciples into the Garden of Gethsemane, rather than fervently praying for strength to face the coming temptation as Jesus instructed, Peter took a nap.
But all of those good intentions and confidence went up in smoke when the temple guards and Judas showed up on the scene. Suddenly it was a dangerous thing to be associated with Jesus. Who knew who the chief priests and company would seize next? In a panic, the disciples did what Jesus predicted they would do. They scattered.
Yet Peter didn’t completely abandon Jesus. Staying in the shadows, Peter followed the entourage back into the city to the house of the high priest. You have to give him points for risking even that: of all the disciples, he would have been the first to be recognized, having injured one of the high priest’s servants. But there he was, unwilling to abandon Jesus completely.
But then a servant of the high priest noticed and recognized him. And accusingly questioned his identity and possible ties to Jesus, who was standing trial that very moment in a room above the courtyard. Twice she insisted she remembered seeing him with Jesus. Twice he denied even knowing Him. He was questioned a third time by bystanders after they recognized his Galilean dialect. Peter vehemently denied for a third time, calling down a curse from heaven if he was lying. But then a rooster crowed. And Peter realized he had done exactly what Jesus had predicted. He had failed the Savior. And he fled the scene, weeping in shame.
Up until that moment, Peter was slated to be a leader in the Kingdom of God. Jesus had affirmed this on several occasions. But now? Had he disqualified himself from that privileged role? Was Jesus going to deny him, just as he had denied Jesus? I’m sure Peter had his doubts. In fact, the next time we see Peter, he has gone back to the family business, fishing in the Sea of Galilee. Had he given up? Did he think that in his failure, he had forfeited any chance of the kind of leadership for which Jesus had groomed him?
We can’t be sure, but the indications are there that he did. He and his friends had fished all night with nothing to show for it. A man called from the shore to drop the nets from the other side of the boat. When they did, the water was suddenly teeming with fish. So much they couldn’t even get the catch into the boat. Then John recognized the man, still standing on shore. It was Jesus.
John tells us Peter jumped into the water. But rather than eagerly swim to shore, I think Peter jumped into the water on the other side of the boat.[1] And busied himself with the net and fish. Why? He was avoiding the moment he would have to look Jesus in the eye. It was just too painful.
After coming in, Jesus told them to bring some of the catch to the fire. John says that Peter came up out of the water with the fish. There were 153 fish. Maybe Peter was still in the water, counting them. Anything to avoid facing Jesus again. After breakfast, Jesus takes Peter aside. “Do you love me more than these?” he asks (probably pointing to the fish Peter seemed to think was so important at the moment).
Peter replies, “Yes, Lord, You know that I love you.”
And Jesus answers: “Then feed my sheep.”
Three times he asks Peter that question. Three chances to set the record straight. Three changes to affirm his commitment to Jesus. But one thing is striking: the elephant in the room. What about Peter’s denial? If I were Jesus, I would have sat him down for a little talk, to be sure he understood how terrible his failure was. What did he learn? What would he do next time?
But Jesus didn’t. He just confirms Peter’s assignment in the Kingdom. Feed my lambs.
Jesus didn’t bring it up, because Peter had already been forgiven. He had died for that sin. It was time to leave the guilt behind and begin to move forward.
Peter’s story is in all four gospels. You have to wonder why everyone (including Peter) would think it so important to tell. By the time they were writing, Peter had been a leader in the church for several decades. He was loved for his teaching and respected for his wisdom. His preaching had brought thousands into a saving knowledge of Jesus. Peter was THE MAN.
So wouldn’t his past failure have a negative impact on his reputation? Wouldn’t people be so appalled at his denial that his preaching would lose its power?
Or would the first readers of the gospel be astonished: PETER did THAT? The one disciple of all that should have known better? Yet Jesus had forgiven it all. Hadn’t even brought it up.
Many commentators are hard on Peter. They feel putting that story into the gospels was done to give a stern warning. The original readers were facing terrible persecution. People had already been martyred for their choice to follow Jesus. They needed to get ready, so they wouldn’t do as Peter did. After all, Jesus had said early on that if someone denied Him, He would deny them.
I don’t think so. I think that hearing of the great Peter’s failure, rather than strike dread and fear into the first century readers, would have been a huge encouragement. If God could forgive Peter, the one who should have been able to resist denial, the one who repeated the sin three times (no fluke there!), could be forgiven… not just forgiven, but reinstated into a position of serious leadership, then there was hope for them. Hope even should they cave and deny him under the threat of the sword.
God’s forgiveness was not based on how well they stood the test. It was based on grace alone.
God is a god of second chances. No matter what we have done, even if we do it over and over again, His grace is greater. There is nothing we can do to make Him love us more. And there is nothing we can do to make Him love us less. We can’t disqualify ourselves, because we never did anything to earn God’s favor in the first place. He loved us when we were in total rebellion. He died for us while we were His enemies.
Do you need a second chance? Are there things in the past that seem unforgivable? Things for which you cannot forgive yourself? God’s abundant grace covers that sin. Jesus nailed it to the cross. Put the guilt into God’s capable hands and let it go. We will never out-sin His grace.
“…where sin increased, grace abounded even more…” Romans 5:20, NASB
(If you are interested in hearing my complete sermon on this story, go to New Hope Chapel’s website for my podcast on Mark 14: 66-72.)
[1] The NIV says the boat “followed” Peter into shore. But the Greek verb is literally “came,” not followed.
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