Luke 22:55–64

In Luke we read that they "kindled a fire in the midst of the hall" (Luke 22:55). The word here rendered "hall" is aule, meaning an open court or courtyard. Most of the ground-floor rooms opened directly into the court. Some of them were large and served as a room for hearings, fully open to the court. It was most probably in a chamber of this sort, open at the back to the court, that Jesus stood before the high priest. So we can easily see that when He turned, He could see Peter in the court among the servants.

What steps we see in Peter's downward course, leading to his denial of the Lord he loved! First, he declared he was ready to die for Him — and the Lord had just told him that Satan wanted to have him, and that He was praying for him. Next, he slept when he should have been watching. Then he fought when he should have been quiet. Then he followed far off when he should have been near. And now he sits down side by side with the enemies of Christ, warming himself! With such a beginning one can only expect what followed.

It was not all in a moment of temptation; it was gradual. And so it is with all departure from God. It begins in what we think small, and the thing goes on step by step — the first step the most difficult of all.

Men are striking the blessed Lord, despising Him, insulting Him and treating Him badly. The enemies of Jesus are pouring out the hatred of their hearts against Him. And there is Peter, one of His own loved disciples, sitting down and warming himself by the enemy's fire!

The fire was pleasant on so cold a night; the company of these officers had perhaps some attraction too. Yet despite them and the charcoal fire, "it was cold." Nor was it in the power of any charcoal fire to make him truly warm. His heart was, sadly, wrong... Away from Christ the disciple is always cold. No worldly warmth, no company, no associations, no pleasures can make up for His absence. Nor did Peter become truly warm till he left the fireside and went out, and there wept bitterly.

Sitting among the Lord's enemies, it is not long before he enters into temptation. It seemed only a small temptation, since it comes from a servant girl. Away from the Lord, in bad company, a very little thing is enough to trip us up. The girl may be weak enough, but she has poor Peter at a disadvantage, for she saw him as he sat by the fire.

We see here how worthless natural courage is in the saint, and how weak our own love is when we lean on it. Only God can sustain us. That happens as we distrust ourselves, receive His word by faith, and keep the heart dependent on God. A servant girl frightens an apostle, and the first false step leads to others, deeper and farther from God.

Peter fell while he was warming himself at the world's fire. He was in the company of the servants of the high priest, a man who was completely hostile to his Master. Now he finds himself by the fire his Lord had kindled. His Lord not only warms him but feeds him, and the fellow servants around him are as devoted to his Master as he is.

What steps we see in Peter's downward course, leading to his denial of the Lord he loved! First, he declared he was ready to die for Him, although the Lord had just told him that Satan wanted to have him, and that He was praying for him. Next, he slept when he should have been watching. Then he fought when he should have been quiet. Then he followed far off when he should have been near. And now he sits down, side by side, with the enemies of Christ, and warms himself! With such a start, one can only expect what followed.

You well know the sad details that ended in his open denial of his Lord. He slept in the garden. He followed far off. He sat down in the judgment hall to warm himself at a fire lit by Christ's enemies. Ah, let us beware of fires, of warmth and comfort and pleasure, created by the enemies of the Lord Jesus. How many young Christians have forgotten this and paid a heavy price for it. Peter identified himself with the world. He is now ashamed to identify himself with a rejected Master.

Matthew and Mark both notice Peter's change of place between the first and second challenges. But it is Luke who gives a clue to the reason for it: the firelight had given him away to the girl, and he knew it. How naturally it is all told! No one seems to be trying to harmonise the accounts, yet we believe they can be harmonised. Then John, the only disciple present as an onlooker, tells us who the girl was who first spoke to Peter — she kept the door.

And so the trial came — a new kind of trial, not now of patience; but here the question was, Would he confess? The occasion soon came. "A servant girl saw him as he sat by the fire, looked closely at him, and said, 'This man also was with him.'" Now there was nothing violent; there was no strong language — but it was too much for Peter. It was — what? Association with Christ? He was ashamed of his Master. Oh, what a solemn thing! It was not that he did not love his Master, but he feared even this servant girl. The spirit of the world is that strong when we are off the ground of faith, and when we have failed to pray before the temptation comes.

The real root of the whole matter was self-confidence — sadly, no uncommon root among us. We do not in the least question Peter's sincerity. We are sure he meant all he said, and that he had no idea at all of what he was about to do. He did not know himself, and ignorance and self-confidence usually go together. Knowing yourself destroys self-confidence. The better you know yourself, the more you must distrust yourself.

His fall took place while he was warming himself at the world's fire, among the servants of the high priest, who was completely hostile to his Master. Now he sits by a fire his Lord had kindled. There He not only warms him but feeds him, and his companions are fellow servants as devoted to his Master as himself.

Like the fallen sinner of Luke 7, the believer who falls in Luke 22 sees his sins in the light of the Lord's love; and the love that rose above his sins broke his heart.

We have already noticed Peter's gradual descent — his sad progress, from one stage to another, in moral distance and blameworthy decline. He forgot to watch and pray. He followed at a distance. He warmed himself at the enemy's fire. Then came the cowardly denial, and the cursing and swearing. All this was down! down! down! shamefully and awfully down. But when the erring, straying, sinning one had reached the very lowest point, the grace that restores him breaks out with heavenly brightness. That grace shines in both the cause that obtained his restoration and the means that produced it. The former we have in Christ's prayer; the latter in Christ's look.

There was nothing violent here; there was no strong language; but it was too much for Peter. What was it, dear friends? Being linked with Christ? He was ashamed of his Master. Oh, what a solemn thing! It was not that he did not love his Master, but he feared even this servant-maid. So mighty is the spirit of the world when we are off the ground of faith, and when we have failed in prayer before the temptation comes.

Away from the Lord, in bad company, a very little thing is enough to trip us up. The maid may be weak enough, but she has poor Peter at a disadvantage, for she saw him "as he sat by the fire."

So he denied, saying, "Woman, I do not know him." It was not only a failure in confession: it was a lie! I know there are many Christians who think that a believer never can tell a lie. I pity them! One's feeling always is, You are going to fail in the thing you think impossible. You are going to fall into a lie yourself, and just because you do not believe it possible.

"You will deny Me three times," the Lord had said. Three times! What did He mean by that — a denial spoken three times over, or a denial on three separate occasions? This last is what He meant, and Luke marks the three occasions off clearly. He calls the second "a little later" (ver. 58), and the third "after an interval of about an hour" (ver. 59).

We see here the worthlessness of natural courage in the saint and the weakness of one's own love when relied on. Only God can sustain us. He does this as we distrust ourselves, receive His word by faith, and keep the heart in dependence on God. A servant-girl frightens an apostle, and the first false step leads on to others, deeper and farther, if possible, from God. The unbelief that refuses the Lord's humbling warning works out the fulfilment of His word.

Like Peter, we have the flesh in us and the devil against us. We have to learn that nothing we have will keep us from denying the Lord under the pressure of fear: no love to the Lord however real, no knowledge of Scripture however great, no good intentions however honest, no experiences however deep, no gift however great, no divine life that we have. Nothing will hold us, unless we are kept near to the Lord and strong in the grace that is in Christ Jesus.

First, in the Supper room the Lord said, "Simon, Simon, behold, Satan demanded to have you, that he might sift you like wheat, but I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail." That was grace before the fall. Then came the great crash. Peter had three times denied that he knew the Lord, and we read, "And the Lord turned and looked at Peter." That was grace to Peter at his worst. Then on the resurrection day, when repentance had done its work in Peter's soul, we read, "The Lord has risen indeed, and has appeared to Simon."

"Woman, I do not know Him." Nor was this all. "And a little later someone else saw him and said, 'You also are one of them.' But Peter said, 'Man, I am not.' And after an interval of about an hour" — for God did not permit all to come in a few moments. No, He will have it made most plain. He would show the full, terrible result of ignoring the Lord's word about prayer. He would have His servant completely humbled.

John records the second denial (John 18:25) as Peter stood and warmed himself. More than one person clearly set on him at once, for the statement is, "They said therefore to him." … In Luke we only read that "another saw him," and so on (Luke 22:58). It seems that many different enemies attacked the apostle, and they followed him around the courtyard. His replies to the various attacks are much the same in each case, though the wording varies, and in one case, as Matthew tells us, Peter added an oath.

There he was, among the enemies of the Lord, far away from Jesus. No wonder Satan was too strong for him. And if we, who belong to the Lord now, go among worldly people and try to warm ourselves at the world's fire, we can only expect Satan to trip us up too.

In Peter's case the stages of decline are clearly marked. First, he boasted in his own strength. Second, he slept when he should have been praying. Third, he drew his sword when he should have been bowing his head meekly. Fourth, he followed at a distance. Fifth, he made himself comfortable among the open enemies of Christ.

In truth Peter had fallen before he got into the high priest's palace. Self-confidence was his ruin. … These were boastful words. No doubt he meant them when he said them, for Peter was clearly no hypocrite. But his self-confidence flung him off his guard and took him away from Christ. "Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall" had no place in his mind. The Lord had told him to pray that he might be kept out of temptation. He did not pray, and he slept when he should have been gathering strength.

It is very important to remember, and we learn it clearly here, that sincerity is not enough to keep us right. It is only a human quality! We also need the Lord's strength against the schemes of the devil, and against the fear of the world. If the Lord is not there, a young girl can upset an apostle. The fear of man is a dreadful snare for the soul.

But oh, the grace of those words! "I have prayed for you" — not that he might not fall, but that, having fallen, 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 going to happen — the shameful denial, the cursing and swearing. And yet He said, "I have prayed for you that your faith may not fail."

His injured Lord, in the middle of His own distress, thought of His poor servant, who was being driven along by the enemy like a fallen leaf. "And the Lord turned and looked at Peter." We owe this exquisite expression of divine grace to Luke.

Notice that John's Gospel gives us neither the Lord's praying for Peter beforehand and His assurance of restoration, nor His turning and looking at Peter after his last denial. Luke alone gives these plainly — the one Gospel whose character they suit and sustain (see Luke 22:31-32 and 61-62). In John everything turns, not on the discovery of what man's heart is and the grace of the Lord, but on the Person of Christ as the one central object.

A look, we may be sure, of infinite love. Peter had just turned his back on the Lord by saying, "I do not know the man." At once the Lord turned to Peter. His look must have said to Peter's heart, "You claim not to know Me, but I know you and love you."... Note too that Peter's heartless denial stirred up no resentment or anger in the heart of the Lord. A very small show of ingratitude or desertion or malice from others can stir bitter thoughts in our hearts, and bring out bitter words. It was not so with our Lord.

I believe it was a look of wounded love beyond words — tender and unchanging. And I believe Peter lived on that look for the next three days, until he met his Master again in resurrection, and fellowship was restored.

The look of the Lord brought back the word of the Lord, for we read that Peter "remembered the saying of the Lord." The look of the Lord broke his heart. The word of the Lord reached his conscience, and so he "went out and wept bitterly." Judas "went out into the night" — the eternal night of blank despair. Peter "went out" in deep repentance, on the way to restoration. He "went out" because his awakened conscience would no longer let him stay in false company.

We have already noticed Peter's gradual descent — his sad progress, stage by stage, in moral distance and blameworthy decline. He forgot to watch and pray. He followed far behind. He warmed himself at the enemy's fire. Then came the cowardly denial, the cursing and the swearing. All this was down! down! down!... But when the erring, straying, sinning one had reached the very lowest point, grace shone out with heavenly brightness — in what secured his restoration, and in what brought it about. The first we have in Christ's prayer; the second in Christ's look.

Later, when a particular failure comes, the Spirit applies the word to us. It convicts us of that failure and humbles us for it in self-judgment. So we see in Luke 22:61 that the Lord turned and looked at Peter when he fell... It was the washing of water by the word. The words of Jesus came back to his soul in all their life and power.

This is just as much pure grace as the grace that first looked on us when we were in our sins. In Peter's case, the Lord told him beforehand what would take place. "Satan has desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat." We all need sifting; "but I have prayed for you." Before Peter got into the danger the Lord had prayed for him. His grace works at the very moment it is needed. "He looked at Peter," and his weeping was an open acknowledgment of Christ's intercession.

"The Lord turned and looked at Peter; and Peter remembered the word of the Lord." The Lord always takes up the point of failure. The first part of Peter's failure was that he made light of the word of the Lord. He really did not believe Him about himself and about his danger, although he did believe in Him as to His own glory... he did not believe Him in practice, that is, about his own danger at that moment. Now he saw what a fool he had been. It was repentance, but only the beginning of repentance.

The look of the Lord broke his heart; the word of the Lord reached his conscience. So he "went out and wept bitterly." Judas "went out into the night" — the eternal night of blank despair. Peter "went out" in deep repentance on the way to restoration. He "went out" because his awakened conscience would no longer let him stay in false company. He wept bitterly because the unchanging love of the Lord had reached his heart.

What was the effect of that look? It broke the heart of the poor backsliding Peter. Like the fallen sinner of Luke 7, the backsliding saint of Luke 22 sees his sins in the light of the Lord's love. The love that rose above his sins broke his heart.

A root is a small thing, and it lies below the surface. Who would think it serious when honest affection spoke out of him in the words, "Lord, I am ready to go with You to prison and to death"? Who would have thought that the fruit of this would be, "I know not the man." Yet it was, plainly. It was not the fruit of his affection, which was real — he was no hypocrite. It was the fruit of his wretched self-confidence. That self-confidence could carry him into the danger, but not through it. It was sure to break down, and it needed to be broken down, at whatever cost. It took the perfect love of God itself to hand him over to Satan to break it down.

I do not wonder that he wept bitterly. The grace of the Heart that he had wounded broke him down. Afterwards we read of the Lord meeting and restoring this backsliding one... He not only restores Peter, but He brings him to judge the thing that led him away, and then He trusts him again. The backslider never gets right with God until he has it all out with Him. When you get back, and judge the point of departure, then He restores the soul.

There is not a witness for Jesus now. He is alone. Man has it apparently all his own way, in mockery, blows, and blasphemy; but yet he is only accomplishing the will, the purpose, and the grace of God.

God was giving up the Lord Jesus to men before He was forsaken in accomplishing the work of redemption.

Then follows the sad story of men's insolence and blasphemy towards the Lord... Such was the crude evil of the underlings. The chiefs might act with more outward politeness, but with no less unbelief and scorn of His claims.

With the same quiet calm of perfect manhood, He bore the many abuses of that whole night with humble dignity... Peter did not have the privilege of seeing the Lord's calm dignity as He bore the soldiers' cruel abuse.

"Prophesy to us, you Christ, who is it that struck you?" Yet He knew the secret of every human heart, and knew everything. That is why He is "ready to judge" — because He knows everything. This was a very simple thing for Him to answer, but He patiently bore it.

He suffered while men insulted Him and threatened Him. When they insulted Him, He took it patiently. He did not insult back, and He did not threaten. In front of all His accusers, His resource was in God. He committed Himself to the One who judges righteously... He was silent before men because He had a resource in God.

He had power to destroy them all in a moment. His words could have shrivelled them at once. Instead He stayed silent. He was deeply wounded in His spirit and grieved in His heart, feeling the very least of what they did to Him with infinite depth. And so He let His creatures pour out their hatred and self-will against Him.

In the middle of all this outrage like no other, this inhuman cruelty and anguish and suffering, was there no human heart to pity Him or feel for Him? No. As we read in Psalm 142:4, "Look to the right and see: there is none who takes notice of me; no refuge remains to me; no one cares for my soul." But what of Peter, who truly loved Jesus in his heart, and who sincerely thought and said he would die for Him? What was he doing while Jesus was blindfolded and cruelly struck? He was denying Jesus, with cursing and swearing. Can we desire greater proof that we cannot trust in ourselves, or our love, or our promises?

The last example is where the apostle Paul says, "The love of Christ controls us." Here the word is quite different. In Luke 22:63 the same word appears as "held" — "the men that held Jesus." And this is exactly the meaning. So the apostle shows that the love of Christ "held" or gripped him in such a way that it left him no other option than complete devotion to Christ... What a blessed state for any of us, when the love of Christ so rules our souls that it makes us live for Him and for Him alone.

Then follows the sad account of men's insolence and blasphemy towards the Lord. Such was the crude evil of the underlings. The chiefs might act with more apparent decency, but with no less unbelief and scorn of His claims.

He was condemned to death, spat upon, and beaten. His face was covered so that He could not see where the blows came from. They called on Him with scorn to declare as a prophet who was striking Him. The officers, Mark has noted, struck Him with their hands.

"Prophesy to us, you Christ! Who is it that struck you?" Yet He knew the secret of every human heart, and knew everything. That is why He is "ready to judge" — because He knows everything. This was a very simple thing for Him to answer, but He patiently bore it. That is exactly the teaching of Isaiah 50. If man condemned Him, God would justify Him.

In the presence of all His accusers His resource was in God. He committed Himself to Him who judges righteously. Falsely accused before the Jewish council, He "remained silent" (Matthew 26:63). To the accusations of the Jews in front of Pilate, "He gave no answer." To Pilate himself, "He gave him no answer, not even to a single charge" (Matthew 27:12-14). Herod mocked Him and questioned Him at length, "but He made no answer" (Luke 23:9). He was silent before men because He had a resource in God.

If we keep silence when we are insulted, it is not that there is no answer to evil and malice. It is that the answer is left with God. We must never try to take vengeance on the wrongdoer. God keeps all vengeance in His own hands.

They offered Him every possible insult. In scorn they spit in His face. This fulfilled the words of the prophet: "I gave my back to those who strike, and my cheeks to those who pull out the beard; I hid not my face from disgrace and spitting" (Isa. 50:6). No cry comes from the holy Sufferer — He is beaten and struck, and still answers not a word.

There is not a witness for Jesus now. He is alone. Man has it apparently all his own way, in mockery, blows, and blasphemy; but he is only carrying out the will, the purpose, and the grace of God.

What was he doing when Jesus was blindfolded and cruelly struck? Quiet now, while we tell it: he was denying Jesus, with cursing and swearing. Could we ask for greater proof that we cannot trust ourselves, or our love, or our promises?