Lenten Midweek IV:
“Return to the LORD: Return from Denial”[1]
March 17, 2021
Text: Luke 22:54-62
“Return to the LORD your God” (Joel
2:13; ESV). Return from denial. We have already spoken of betrayal, namely,
that of Judas. Denial is a particular
form of betrayal. We learn of its nature
in tonight’s Holy Gospel. Denial of
Jesus is born of fear. Fear for
safety. Fear for reputation. Fear that one has been wrong all along to
believe this Jesus to be the Savior.
Peter already shows this fear by following Jesus “at a distance”
(Luke 22:54). He is afraid of being
arrested and indicted with Jesus. And
the physical distance, the lurking behind in the shadows, betrays his spiritual
distance… his fear of coming fully into the light, confessing that he is a disciple,
one who follows Jesus Christ, the Light of the world… even as Peter had
said just hours earlier that same night, that he would follow Jesus even “to
prison and to death” (v. 33). “Follow
me,” Jesus had said when He called Peter as disciple (Mark 1:17). Now Peter is not so sure. Because there is a personal cost to following
Jesus. There will be suffering and there
will be pain. The world will reject you
as it rejects the Lord. Better to hang
back here by the fire, blend in with the crowd, watch, and see what
happens.
But
you can’t be “kinda, sorta” a Christian.
Either you are, or you aren’t.
And the world recognizes those who belong to Christ, and the world will
always demand an answer: “Where do your loyalties lie? With Jesus?
Or with us?” First a servant
girl: “This man also was with him” (v. 56). “Woman, I do not know him” (v.
57). Then another from the crowd: “You
also are one of them”… “Man, I am not” (v. 58). Then, about an hour later, another: “Certainly
this man was also with him, for he too is a Galilean” (v. 29). Look, man!
I don’t even know what you’re talking about (v. 60)! And we know from the other Gospel writers
that he even began to invoke curses upon himself and swear that he did not know
Him (Matt. 26:74; Mark 14:71).
And
then it happened, as the Lord predicted: The rooster crowed. It was a sermon of crushing Law. And the Lord looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the Word of the Lord: “Before
the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times” (Luke 22:61). He who had boasted… he who was so sure of
himself… he who even took up arms against poor Malchus in the garden… he was a
coward! And worse, his turning back,
away from discipleship, away from following Jesus, was complete. He had denied his Lord, his Friend, his
Savior. “And he went out and wept
bitterly” (v. 62).
We
weep with Peter. Because we know we are
cut from the same cloth. We boldly make
our promises to Jesus when it is easy.
At Baptism (and for those of baptized as infants, that is particularly
easy, because our parents and sponsors make the promise on our behalf). At Confirmation. "Do you intend to live according to the
Word of God, and in faith, word, and deed to remain true to God, Father, Son,
and Holy Spirit, even to death? … Do you intend to continue steadfast in this
confession and Church and to suffer all, even death, rather than fall away from
it?” (LSB 273). “I do,” we say,
and we even have children swear this.
But then we add some words Peter would have been wise to add to his own
promises… “by the grace of God.”
This is extraordinarily important, because remaining steadfast in the
faith, always… but especially in times of suffering and persecution… is God’s
gift of grace to us. It is never our own
work. Peter’s confidence when he boasted
in the Upper Room, was in himself and his own resolve, his own loyalty, his own
courage. Too often that is true of us,
as well. Perhaps it is ironic, and it is
certainly a paradox, but you will never remain faithful to God if you think you
can remain faithful to God. You
cannot. You must know that. And you must know that faithfulness is a gift
of God Himself, just as repentance is His gift, conversion is His gift, faith
is His gift. It all depends on Him.
This
is vital. Because none of us knows how
we will respond when it is our head on the chopping block, when we face arrest,
imprisonment, beatings, the loss of all earthly goods and honor, death, as the
price of following Jesus. How will it go
when we stand before the earthly judge, when we have to face down the firing
squad, or stand with the noose around our necks? What if you have the option? Just say what Peter said, “I do not know
Him,” and you can go free. It is
worth thinking about, because the day may be coming sooner than we bargained
for. You are all worried about being
Republicans or Democrats, while the world is baring its teeth at you for
being a Christian. And that
is what you are.
In
the Early Church, when the Christians were brought before the judge, all they
had to do was deny Jesus and burn a little incense to Caesar, and they would be
set free. Some of them succumbed. It was so easy. But so many of them, the blessed martyrs, not
by their own strength, but by the grace of God, responded to every question
with, “I am a Christian!” And they were
killed for it. Impaled. Beheaded.
Torn apart by wild beasts. Burned
alive. Crucified. When it came to new ways to impose cruel
death, there was no limit to the Roman imagination. But these martyrs went willingly, as the Holy
Spirit gave them to will and to do (Phil. 2:13). And dying, they lived. They loved not their lives even unto death
(Rev. 12:11). They heeded the warning,
and trusted in the promise: “Everyone who [confesses] me before men, I will
also [confess] before my Father who is in heaven, but whoever denies me before
men, I will also deny before my Father who is in heaven” (Matt.
10:32-33). There is so much at
stake. God grant us faithfulness, and
faithful confession in the decisive moment.
Because, truth be told, our track record isn’t always all that good,
even now, when it comes to facing only mockery, or rejection by the woke mob,
or strained relationships with loved ones, as the price of confessing
Jesus. That is crushing Law. But it is true. I shudder to think of my own sins of denial,
and hanging back in the shadows, when following Jesus and confessing Him may
bring me pain. But the rooster is
crowing. This is a gracious thing. He is calling us to repent.
And
then… this is painful, but it is a pure act of grace… The Lord looks at
us. It is that look, our Lord’s beholding
us in grace, that calls to our remembrance His Word, thus bringing us to
repentance. It calls us back from
denial. It calls us back to faith. See, it all depends on Him. St. Augustine makes the point that it is not
simply that the Lord turned His head and cast His bodily eyes upon Peter. “In mercy,” he says, “the Lord silently and
secretly approached, touched the heart, recalled the memory of the past,” that
is, the Word He had spoken, and “with His own internal grace visited Peter,
stirred and brought out into external tears the feelings of his inner man,”
which is to say, repentance.[2] And so He does for us. He looks upon us and calls to our minds His
Word.
But
that isn’t all. If the story ended there,
it wouldn’t be much different than the story of Judas, and it wouldn’t give us
any comfort. We go out and weep our
bitter tears, but the Lord accomplishes our salvation. He takes our denials, our fears, our betrayals,
and all our sins to the cross, and He dies for them. And then He rises from the dead, having paid
our debt in full. And you know what
happens next. He appears to Peter and to
all the Apostles, and to many others of His disciples, this Lord Jesus, the One
who was crucified, and is now risen and living.
And in one of those appearances, by the Sea of Tiberias, as you
remember, He takes Peter aside. And
three times He asks Peter, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” (John
21:15-17). Now, why three times? One time for each denial. And three times Peter makes his good
confession: “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” And thus having been called back by the
gracious Word and look of Jesus, Peter is forgiven and restored. And he is given the charge: “Feed my
lambs… Tend my sheep… Feed my sheep.”
And
so you, and so me. The Lord has looked
upon us and brought His Word to our minds. He has brought us to repentance for all our
denials, and He forgives us all our sins.
Do you love Him? Yes, Lord, you
know that I love you. And so the charge:
Speak His Word. Confess Him, and do not
deny. Don’t follow at a distance. Follow Him all the way. He will carry you. Through suffering. Through persecution and the cross. Through to the throne of His heavenly Father,
where He will not deny you, where He will confess you as His own. He will carry you through to your heavenly
reward, to eternal life, and resurrection from the dead. He is faithful. That is why this same Simon Peter, who denied
Him and was restored, could write in our Epistle: “after you have suffered a
little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in
Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you” (1
Peter 5:10).
The
Lord will keep us faithful, even unto death.
It was only a few short years ago when 21 orange-clad Christians knelt
on a Libyan beach, the knives of their ISIS captors pressed against their
throats. One of them, by the way, the
only non-Egyptian of the group, was told he could go, but he chose, instead, to
kneel with his brothers. “I am a
Christian,” he said. Peacefully they
knelt as the cameras rolled, and at the decisive moment, they all cried out, “Ya
Rabbi Yassou!” “O my Lord
Jesus!” And in the very next moment they
looked upon the One who had ever been looking upon them.
Be
not afraid, beloved. Fear not for your
safety. Fear not for your
reputation. Fear not for your salvation. The Lord is looking upon you. He is speaking to you, and by His Word He
sustains you. Yet a little while and
you, too, will see Him. Until then, do
not deny, but confess. His faithfulness
will keep you to the end. In the Name of
the Father, and of the Son X, and of the Holy
Spirit. Amen.
[1] The theme and many of the ideas for
this sermon are from Eric Longman, Return to the Lord: Resources for
Lent-Easter Preaching and Worship (St. Louis: Concordia, 2020).
[2] Quoted in Treasury of Daily
Prayer (St. Louis: Concordia, 2008), p. 339. Augustine doesn’t think the Lord looked
bodily upon Peter at all, being inside the house while Peter was outside. Maybe, maybe not. Still, the point is well taken that it wasn’t
simply a bodily look.
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