We have now to follow our beloved apostle into the darkest and most
humbling scene in his entire history--a scene which we could hardly
understand or account for if we did not know something of the infinite
depths of divine grace on the one hand, and, on the other hand, of the
terrible depths into which even a saint of God or an apostle of Christ
is capable of plunging if not kept by divine power.
It seems very wonderful to find on the page of inspiration the record
of the fall of such an eminent servant of Christ as Simon Peter. We,
in our wisdom, would judge it best to draw the curtain of silence over
such an event. Not so the Holy Ghost. He has seen fit to tell us
plainly of the errors, and failures, and sins, of such men as Abraham,
Moses, David, Peter, and Paul, in order that we may learn holy lessons
from such records--lessons of human frailty, lessons of divine grace,
lessons full of solemn warning, and yet of most precious consolation
and encouragement. We learn what we are, and we learn what God is. We
learn that we cannot trust ourselves for a single moment; for, if not
kept by grace, there is no depth of sin into which we are not capable
of falling; but we learn to trust the eternal stability of that grace
which has dealt with the erring ones and sinning ones of other days,
and to lean with ever-growing confidence on the One who is "the same
yesterday, to-day, and for ever."
Not one of the four evangelists omits the fall of Peter. Let us open
at Matt. xxvi.; "And when they had sung a hymn they went out into the
mount of Olives. Then saith Jesus unto them, All ye shall be offended
because of Me this night; for it is written, I will smite the
Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock shall be scattered abroad. But
after I am risen again I will go before you into Galilee. Peter
answered and said unto Him, Though all shall be offended because of
Thee, yet will I never be offended."
In these few words Peter lets out the real root of the whole matter.
That root was self-confidence--alas! alas! no uncommon root amongst
us. We do not in the least question Peter's sincerity. We feel
perfectly sure he meant all he said; and, further, that he had not the
most remote idea of what he was about to do. He was ignorant of
himself, and we generally find that ignorance and self-confidence go
together. Self-knowledge destroys self-confidence. The more fully self
is known, the more it must be distrusted. If Peter had known himself,
known his tendencies and capabilities, he never would have uttered the
words which we have just penned. But so full was he of self-confidence,
that when his Lord told him expressly what He was about to do, he
replied, "Though I should die with Thee, yet will I not deny Thee."
This is peculiarly solemn. It is full of instruction for us all. We
are all so ignorant of our own hearts that we deem ourselves incapable
of falling into certain gross sins. But we should, every one of us,
bear in mind that if not kept each moment by the grace of God, we are
capable of anything. We have materials in us for any amount or
character of evil; and whenever we hear any one saying, "Well, I
certainly am a poor, failing, stumbling creature, but I am not capable
of doing the like of that," we may feel assured he does not know his
own heart; and not only so, but he is in imminent danger of falling
into some grievous sin. It is well to walk humbly before our God,
distrusting self, and leaning on Him. This is the true secret of moral
safety at all times. Had Peter realized this, it would have saved him
his terrible downfall.
But Peter was self-confident, and, as a consequence, he failed to
watch and pray. This was another stage in his downward journey. Had he
only felt his utter weakness, he would have sought for strength
divine. He would have cast himself on God for grace to help in time of
need. Look at the blessed Master! He, though God over all, blessed
forever, yet being a Man, having taken the place of the creature, and
fully entering into His position, was agonizing in prayer while Peter
was fast asleep. Yes, Peter slept in the garden of Gethsemane while
his Lord was passing through the deepest anguish He had yet tasted,
though deeper still lay before Him. "Then cometh Jesus with them unto
a place called Gethsemane, and saith unto the disciples, Sit ye here,
while I go and pray yonder. And He took with Him Peter and the sons of
Zebedee, and began to be sorrowful and very heavy. Then saith He unto
them, My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even unto death; tarry ye here,
and watch with Me. And He went a little further, and fell on His face,
and prayed, saying, O My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass
from Me: nevertheless, not as I will, but as Thou wilt. And He cometh
unto the disciples, and findeth them asleep, and _saith unto Peter_,
What! could ye not watch with Me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye
enter not into temptation: the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh
is weak."
What tender grace! What readiness to make allowance! What moral
elevation! And yet He felt the sad want of sympathy, the cold
indifference to His sore agony. "I looked for some to take pity, but
there was none; and for comforters, but I found none." How much is
involved in these words! He looked for comforters. That perfect human
heart craved sympathy; but, alas! there was none for Him. Even Peter,
who declared himself ready to die with Him, fell asleep in view of the
agonies of Gethsemane.
Such is man--yea, the very best of men! Self-confident, when he ought
to be self-distrusting--sleeping, when he ought to be watching; and,
we may add, fighting, when he ought to be submitting. "Then Simon
Peter, having a sword, drew it, and smote the high priest's servant,
and cut off his right ear. The servant's name was Malchus." How
incongruous, how utterly out of place, was a sword in company with the
meek and lowly Sufferer! "Then said Jesus unto Peter, Put up thy
sword into the sheath: the cup which My Father hath given Me, shall I
not drink it?" Peter was entirely out of the current of his Master's
spirit. He had not a thought in common with Him in reference to His
path of suffering. He would fain defend Him with carnal weapons,
forgetting that His kingdom was not of this world.
All this is peculiarly solemn. To find a dear and honored servant of
Christ failing so grievously is surely sufficient to teach us to walk
very softly. But, alas! we have not yet reached the lowest point in
Peter's downward course. Having used his sword in defence of his
Master, we next find him "following afar off." "Then took they Jesus,
and led Him, and brought Him to the high priest's house. And _Peter
followed afar off_. And when they had kindled a fire in the midst of
the hall, and were set down together, _Peter sat down among them_."
What company for an apostle of Christ! "Can a man touch pitch, and not
be defiled by it? Can one walk on burning coals, and his feet not be
burned?" It is terribly dangerous for the Christian to sit down among
the enemies of Christ. The very fact of his doing so proves that
decline has set in, and made serious progress. In Peter's case the
stages of decline are strongly marked. First, boasting in his own
strength; secondly, sleeping when he ought to have been praying;
thirdly, drawing his sword when he ought to have been meekly bowing
his head; fourthly, following afar off; fifthly, making himself
comfortable in the midst of the open enemies of Christ.
Then comes the last sad scene in this terrible drama. "And as Peter
was beneath in the palace, there cometh one of the maids of the high
priest; and when she saw Peter warming himself, she looked upon him,
and said, And thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth. But he denied,
saying, _I know not, neither understand I, what thou sayest_. And he
went out into the porch; and the cock crew. And a maid saw him again,
and began to say to them that stood by, This is one of them. _And he
denied it again._ And a little after, they that stood by said again to
Peter, Surely thou art one of them, for thou art a Galilean, and thy
speech agreeth thereto. But _he began to curse and to swear, I know
not this man of whom ye speak_. And the second time the cock crew. And
Peter called to mind the word that Jesus said unto him, Before the
cock crow twice thou shalt deny Me thrice. And when he thought
thereon, he wept." (Mark xiv. 66-72.)
Luke adds a most touching clause: "_And the Lord turned and looked
upon Peter._ And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had
said unto him, Before the cock crow, thou shalt deny Me thrice. And
Peter went out, and wept bitterly."
How deeply affecting is all this! Only think of a saint of God, and an
apostle of Christ, cursing and swearing that he did not know his
Lord! Does the reader feel disposed to question the fact that Peter
was, spite of all this, a genuine saint of God? Some do question it,
but their questioning is a gross mistake. They find it hard to
conceive such a thing as a true child of God falling so terribly. It
is because they have not yet thoroughly learnt what flesh is. Peter
was as really a saint of God in the palace of the high priest as he
was on the mount of transfiguration. But he had to learn himself, and
that, too, by as humiliating and painful a process as any soul could
well be called to pass through. Doubtless, if any one had told Peter,
a few days before, that he would ere long curse and swear that he did
not know his Lord, he would have shrunk with horror from the thought.
He might have said, like one of old, "Is thy servant a dog that he
should do this thing?" Yet so it was. We know not what we may do until
we are in the circumstances. The great thing for us all is to walk
humbly with our God day by day, deeply sensible of our own utter
weakness, and clinging to Him who is able to keep us from falling. We
are safe only in the shelter of His presence. Left to ourselves, we
are capable of anything, as our apostle found to his deep sorrow.
But the Lord was watching over His poor erring servant. He never lost
sight of him for a single moment, He had His eye upon the whole
process. The devil would have smashed the vessel in hopeless fragments
if he could. But he could not. He was but an instrument in the divine
hand to do a work for Peter which Peter had failed to do for himself.
"Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift
you as wheat; but I have prayed for thee, that thy faith fail not; and
when thou art converted (or restored), strengthen thy brethren."
Here we are permitted to see the root of the matter. Peter needed to
be sifted, and Satan was employed to do the work--just as in the case
of Job, and the man in 1 Cor. v. It seems very wonderful, very
mysterious, very solemn, that Satan should be so used. Yet so it is.
God uses him "for the destruction of the flesh." He cannot touch the
spirit. That is eternally safe. But it is terrible work to get into
Satan's sieve. Peter found it so, and so did Job, and so did that
erring Corinthian.
But oh, the _grace_ of those words! "I have prayed for thee"--not that
he might not fall, but, having fallen, that his faith might not fail,
his confidence might not give way. Nothing can surpass the grace that
shines out here. The blessed One knew all that was to happen--the
shameful denial--the cursing and swearing; and yet, "I have prayed for
thee that thy faith fail not"--that thy confidence in the eternal
stability of my grace may not give way.
Perfectly marvelous! And then, the _power_ of that look! "The Lord
turned, and looked upon Peter." It was this that broke Peter's heart,
and drew forth a flood of bitter, penitential tears.