Simon Peter: Denying Christ (Luke 22.31-62)

Introduction

I once watched a National Geographic documentary on the hunting behaviour of lions. I was treated to a masterclass from an apex predator.

Here’s what I learned. They typically hunt in packs, and the pride will organise itself into specialist roles. Some lions flank the herd looking to select and isolate one victim, while the more vigorous lions chase and capture the unfortunate prey as it flees.

Lions are stealth hunters, so they use their surroundings to conceal their approach. They usually strike at dawn or dusk, using their excellent vision in the half-light to their advantage. Once within range (around 30 meters away), they spring an ambush. This is when the documentary plays exciting music with a pulsating drumbeat.

When the lead lion reaches the zebra or antelope or whatever, it sinks its claws into the victim’s hide and uses its superior weight to pull it to the ground. Then it suffocates its target with mandibles of death, biting into the throat, breaking the neck and severing the jugular, before ripping into the carcass and licking the still warm blood from its lips. No wonder this magnificent beast sits at the top of the food chain.

What’s this got to do with Simon Peter? Just this; about 30 years after Jesus’ public ministry, Peter wrote the following words: “Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.”

Satan, the enemy of our souls, is a relentless stalker, patiently looking for an opportunity to pounce. He’s real. He’s cunning. He’s ruthless. But we need not live in fear or let the enemy terrorise us. The devil can scheme to harm us all he wants. But Peter goes on to impress on his readers a strategy that anssures our defence. “Resist him,” he says, “resist him, standing firm in the faith.”

We’ll return to that passage in more detail at the end of November, but for now I want to ask a question. How did Peter know all this? I mean, where did Simon Peter learn that Satan behaves like a lion hunting down its unsuspecting prey? What experiences in Peter’s life could he draw on that lead to this conclusion?

And my answer is that I think he learned this truth in the incident he is probably most famous for, his three-fold denial on the night Jesus was betrayed, arrested and tried.

All four Gospels include this incident, differing subtly in emphasis, which allows us to build up a complete picture of what happened.

All four Gospels tell us that Jesus predicts Peter’s denial and that Peter emphatically protests his loyalty, saying he would sooner die with Christ than desert him. All four mention a servant girl. Matthew and Mark highlight how each denial grows in intensity, ending with Peter spitting out oaths and curses. All four mention the cock crowing, though Mark adds that it crowed twice.

Matthew, Mark and Luke all tell how Peter weeps bitterly, a detail John, the briefest report of the four, leaves out.

But, of the four Gospels, Luke’s is the most personal and relational. He brings out the emotional tones a bit more than the others. For example, only Luke includes the poignant scene where Jesus makes eye contact with Peter just as the cock crows, and this is the Gospel account we’ll focus on most this morning.

Let’s start at Luke 22.31. We’re still in the upper room, where we were last Sunday. Jesus has washed his disciples’ feet, as we saw then. He has patiently taught them at great length. The Passover meal has now been eaten. Jesus has broken bread and lifted the cup, speaking of his body and blood. Now, they are just about to leave for the Mount of Olives and Jesus says:

‘Simon, Simon, Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail. And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.’
But he replied, ‘Lord, I am ready to go with you to prison and to death.’
Jesus answered, ‘I tell you, Peter, before the cock crows today, you will deny three times that you know me.’

…They then finish their conversation, leave the upper room, and head off to the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus agonises there as he faces what he knows is to come. He tells his disciples to watch and pray, but they fail to do either, falling asleep on the job. Then Judas appears, leading a detachment from the temple guard with blades and blunt instruments to arrest Jesus. Peter impulsively draws his sword and severs a servant’s ear. Which Jesus heals. Let’s pick it up again in v54.

Then seizing him, they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. And when some there had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them. A servant-girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, ‘This man was with him.’
But he denied it. ‘Woman, I don’t know him,’ he said.
A little later someone else saw him and said, ‘You also are one of them.’
‘Man, I am not!’ Peter replied.
About an hour later another asserted, ‘Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean.’
Peter replied, ‘Man, I don’t know what you’re talking about!’ Just as he was speaking, the cock crowed.
The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: ‘Before the cock crows today, you will disown me three times.’ And he went outside and wept bitterly.

Before we drill down into Peter’s denial, I want to teach into some important things.

Christ’s sovereign foreknowledge

Firstly, let’s pause to appreciate and marvel at Jesus’ total sovereign, prophetic foreknowledge of this entire situation. Jesus knows all about Judas’ planned betrayal. He knows all about the disciples’ imminent mass desertion where their support for him will totally collapse. And, specifically, he knows all about Peter’s denial, not once, not twice, but three times, just hours away.

He has already described to them in detail on at least three prior occasions what will happen to him. He knows he will be handed over to be crucified and that on the third day, he will rise again.

This is nothing to do with intuition or hunch. The Bible is showing us Christ’s perfect omniscience as God the Son, the second person of the Trinity, co-equal with the Father and the Holy Spirit, for all eternity fully God, the divine eternal Word, made flesh.

As we read these words, facing our own failures, our own inadequacies, our own griefs, what good news this is! Luke, inspired by the Holy Spirit, is painting a portrait for us of a Saviour, going to the cross, who sees everything about Peter; all his hollow words, all his empty promises, all his misplaced bravado, and he is surprised by nothing. Because he knows Peter through and through, and he knows all things from beginning to end. The Lord’s wisdom is both intimate and infinite.

Consider this, if you will. If the distance between the earth and the sun (which is 93 million miles) were represented by the width of a sheet of paper, the distance between the earth and the next nearest star (Proxima Centauri) would be a stack of papers 70 feet high.

On this scale, the width of our Milky Way galaxy would be equivalent to a stack of papers 310 miles high. Yet even this unimaginably huge galaxy is like a speck of dust in an immeasurably vast universe.

And the Bible says that Jesus Christ holds this universe, and everything in it, all together by his powerful word. He holds all things. He rules all things. He knows all things.

He knows why I blew it yesterday. He knows how I will let him down today. He knows what I will make a complete hash of tomorrow. And, just as Jesus was still willing and ready to go to the cross for Peter, so is his love endlessly patient and steadfastly unwavering for us. Take that in!

In the early 1960s, a young evangelist called David Wilkerson started a ministry called Teen Challenge that would eventually see thousands of armed gangsters and junkies converted and set free from their addictions. But his book The Cross and the Switchblade tells how his first visit to New York City to try and engage with the criminal underworld was a disaster.

Through a big misunderstanding, he found himself arrested by the police which became big news. He saw his photo on the front pages of the papers. Far from making an impact on the city, he became a laughingstock instead. The humiliation almost led him to give up before he had really begun.

Where’s the wisdom and sovereignty of God in that embarrassing failure? But less than a week later, he felt God speak to him as he prayed, and the Lord said, “Go back to New York.” After three days of protesting to God and excuses, he reluctantly returned and made contact with those gangs again.

Amazingly, he found that the doors which had been slammed in his face earlier were now wide open for him right across the city. Because the gangs could now relate to him in a way they never could before. “The cops don’t like you; the cops don’t like us either,” they said. Now, suddenly he was like one of them. God had made a way.

You see how the all-knowing sovereignty of God can assure blessing in your life, even after apparent failure? The Lord knows. And the Lord reigns. Are you trusting him for your future?

Satan’s strategic targeting

The second thing I want to underline here before we look at the denial itself is the demonic targeting of leadership.

“Simon, Simon,” says Jesus, “Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat. But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail.”

The ‘you’ in v31 is plural. The NIV has helpfully translated this for us as “All of you.” So Jesus is saying here that Satan asked to sift as wheat not just Peter but all the disciples.

Satan is real, he is more powerful than us, and we must take him seriously. But he has to crawl and ask permission from God to afflict us, and he cannot go an inch further than the Lord permits. So, if Satan’s grovelling request doesn’t align with the Lord’s sovereign purposes to sharpen us and train us in righteousness and make us more holy, that permission will be denied.

I want you to notice that the devil’s strategy here is to attack the whole group by targeting their future leader and front man, Peter. That’s why Jesus switches from plural ‘you’ to singular ‘you’ in v32, “But I have prayed for you, Simon.”

Do you see what it’s saying here? This is really important. If Satan topples the leader, he can bring down the whole group. If he takes out the pastor, he can ruin the whole church. Zechariah 13.7 says, “Strike the shepherd, and the sheep will be scattered.”

This is why the New Testament says, “Remember your leaders.” In four of Paul’s 13 letters, he specifically asks his readers to pray for him, and in another three letters he mentions that they already are praying for him.

Brothers, sisters, pray that all who lead in various ways at King’s will fight the good fight of faith against the enemy. I know some of you pray for us daily; thank you for your prayers, we need them – and we feel them.

What does “sifting as wheat” mean here? “Satan has asked to sift all of you as wheat.” The answer comes in the following sentence where Jesus says, “But I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail.” So, sifting as wheat means a demonic attack which is designed to wreck the disciples’ faith.

And Jesus is confident that his prayer will be answered, because he says, “And when [not if] when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”

Jesus knows that Peter’s faith will fail, as we’ll see in a moment, but he also knows it will not fail totally and finally. Why? Because he has prayed that it won’t.

Peter’s tragic failure

So, two thirds into this sermon, we finally get round to the denials themselves. Peter impulsively promises in v33 he will never abandon Jesus, even if it means imprisonment or dying with him.

Never is one of Peter’s favourite words. You shall never go to the cross. You will never wash my feet! I will never disown you. And each time Peter is wrong. Never say never!

How do you feel when you make promises you fail to keep? You feel wretched, don’t you? Of course you do.

Peter’s denials are among the most relatable moments in the Gospels, because they speak directly to our human flaws, our fears, our failures. The truth is though that, thanks be to God, we can all still have a future.

All four Gospels agree that the first denial comes in response to an observation from a servant girl. John adds the detail that she is a doorkeeper in the high priest’s private residence. It’s night. It’s cold. So, Peter stands near a fire to try and keep warm.

The girl looks intently at him, staring at his face. No charges have been made against the disciples, so there is no reason at all why Peter should feel the need to defend himself. He’s not on trial.

But Peter is tired and stressed and cold. And fear overcomes him, so he denies any knowledge of Jesus. Mark adds that at this point, Peter physically distances himself, moving out to the entryway.

What do you fear as a Christian? What makes you distance yourself from Christ?

My observation is that Christians are often reluctant to say what they really think about the uniqueness of Christ, about human sexuality and about gender because they fear it may lead to vilification, personal attacks, loss of employment and so on.

Political campaigns, the media, business and even some church people relentlessly drive a narrative that attacks and mocks what God says. That can feel lonely and intimidating.

In many places the desire to fit in is stronger than the decision to stand out. Are we allowing fear to push us into permanent silent retreat? Doesn’t the Bible speak with sufficient clarity about these things?

Where do we go with this kind of fearfulness? Psalm 34.4 says, “I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears.” Bring your fears and insecurities to God. And claim his promise of taking that fear away.

The second denial, v58, comes a little later, and this time it’s a man in a nearby group who challenges him. Luke shows that the pressure ramps up a bit because he goes beyond what the servant girl says. Peter wasn’t just “with” Jesus. He was “one of them.” This isn’t just a matter of inadvertent physical proximity. Peter is being closely associated with Jesus’ traveling band. He is an insider.

Peter denies it again. “Man, I am not,” he protests. Yes, you are, Peter. You have been part of that band for three and a half years. That’s a lie, Peter. The devil is a liar from the beginning and the father of lies. When we lie, we sound like the devil. The devil who is, at that very moment, trying to sift Peter like wheat.

Each denial ramps up in intensity. The third one is more serious than the second, which is more serious than the first. By this time, an hour or so later, Jesus has been moved from his preliminary hearing with Annas to his trial before Caiaphas. There’s an ominous sense that this night is going very badly.

Luke tells us that the next accuser, not just suggests, but insists that Peter is connected to Jesus. He is adamant. “Certainly,” he says. “His northern accent gives him away.” John adds that this third accuser is related to the servant whose ear Peter has earlier severed with a blade. No doubt he is very upset. “If I find the man who did that to you, I’ll kill him.” You can well imagine him saying that.

No wonder Peter sounds like he is panicking at this point. He strenuously denies all knowledge of what this stranger says. Mark and Matthew add that Peter backs up his denial with a string of oaths, swearing to God he doesn’t know what he’s going on about.

God’s transformative grace

And as the words leave his lips, the cock crows. Then, what drama; Jesus turns at that very instant and his eyes meet Peter’s.

What do you think that look communicates? Judgement? Bitterness? I told you so? Pain? Sorrow? Disappointment? A blank stare?

Surely, it’s the look of love. The face of grace. Because that glance across the courtyard does not crush Peter into depression and despair. It melts him into repentance and renewal.

Peter heads off into the night, weeping bitterly. He is distraught. His remorse and anguish and heartbreak pull him down to what must surely be the lowest point in his entire life.

But look, no failure, however bad, need be final with God. Turning to Jesus in repentance opens wide the door for forgiveness, healing and restoration.

As we’ll see in detail next week, this threefold denial is not going to be the last word. There is grace.

And Jesus will come to him, as he comes to every one of us today. Not with an angry confrontation over how badly he messed up. Not with not with a tut and a rolling of the eyes about how much of a letdown Peter and we turned out to be. But with a simple question; “do you love me?” Do you? Do you love the Lord?

The Jewish thinker Rabbi David Aaron once sighed and said, “I wish I could love the greatest saint like the Lord loves the greatest sinner.” Oh, so do I.

Ending

I noticed a title in a Christian bookshop once called Has Christianity Failed You? It was a book written for disaffected people who don’t do church anymore because they feel that church has let them down.

Sometimes our expectations are not met because those expectations were unrealistic in the first place. But sadly, churches can - and do - fail people. Leaders can disenchant and members can disappoint. Every Christian can, like Peter, deny the Lord in many, many ways.

The church may have failed you in the past; it probably has. But Jesus and the gospel fail no one. Like Peter, every saint has a past. But like Peter, every sinner can have a future.

It’s why Jesus says in v32, after your personal crash, after your denials, after your bitter weeping, after your running away in shame, Jesus says, “When you have turned back, strengthen your brothers.”

He means, strengthen them with your testimony as a restored failure. Strengthen them when you tell them how good it is to be forgiven. Strengthen them when you explain to them no matter how faithless we are, he remains faithful. Strengthen them with hope and with belief that no matter how lost you are, with Jesus there is always a way back.

Sermon preached at King's Church Darlington, 5 October 2025.

Simon Peter: Washing Feet (John 13.1-17)

 

Introduction

One of the most humiliating experiences of my school days was when I was late one morning for P.E. I think I must have been about 12 or 13. I dashed into the sports building, quickly changed into my kit and ran barefoot into the gym where all my classmates were already standing in a line against a wall.

I apologised for being late and hoped that would be the end of the matter. But my P.E. Teacher Mr Rollinson, (we used to call him 'Rolo') looked at me with eyes as wide as saucers, and called me out to step out in front of the others. He then pointed at my feet. “Lambert! You come here into my nice clean gym - late - and your feet are absolutely filthy! When was the last time you had a bath?” 

I looked down and, to my shock, my feet were as filthy as I can ever remember them. It looked like they hadn’t been near water or soap in weeks. I don’t know why; perhaps my shoes had holes in – or maybe I really had forgotten to bath or change my socks for weeks – I was after all a teenage boy. But my feet were undeniably grimy. 

In the stress of the moment, my mind went blank. When was the last time I had a bath? I said, “I can’t remember, sir.” “You can’t remember the last time you washed your feet?!” he shouted. I felt deeply embarrassed and ashamed as the whole class erupted with laughter, pointing at me and making jokes forever after about my lamentable personal hygiene. 

Maybe that’s one of the reasons this morning’s passage of Scripture has always touched a nerve for me. 

So let’s read it together; it’s John 13.1-17.

It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end. The evening meal was in progress, and the devil had already prompted Judas, the son of Simon Iscariot, to betray Jesus. Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel round his waist.
After that, he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped round him. He came to Simon Peter, who said to him, ‘Lord, are you going to wash my feet?’ Jesus replied, ‘You do not realise now what I am doing, but later you will understand.’ ‘No,’ said Peter, ‘you shall never wash my feet.’ Jesus answered, ‘Unless I wash you, you have no part with me.’ ‘Then, Lord,’ Simon Peter replied, ‘not just my feet but my hands and my head as well!’
Jesus answered, ‘Those who have had a bath need only to wash their feet; their whole body is clean. And you are clean, though not every one of you.’ For he knew who was going to betray him, and that was why he said not everyone was clean. When he had finished washing their feet, he put on his clothes and returned to his place. ‘Do you understand what I have done for you?’ he asked them. ‘You call me “Teacher” and “Lord”, and rightly so, for that is what I am.
Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you. Very truly I tell you, no servant is greater than his master, nor is a messenger greater than the one who sent him. Now that you know these things, you will be blessed [what does it say?] if you do them.

The Upper Room that night

Has anyone here ever been to a Foot Washing Service before? Some more traditional churches hold them every year on Maundy Thursday, the day before Good Friday. I’ve been to a few in my time and what tends to happen is this; everyone scrubs their feet, clips their toenails, puts on clean socks and nice shoes before going to church. 

When the minister gets round to the foot washing bit, everyone’s legs from the ankle downwards are immaculate, and the water in the bowl looks identical after the ceremony to what it did beforehand. Maybe it’s a good visual aid for some, but it can feel like a bit of a charade.

When Jesus washed his disciples' feet before reclining at the last supper, he was not intending to institute an annual liturgical custom. He did it because, like for me that morning in school, there were 24 filthy dirty feet begging for urgent attention. 

This is the night Jesus will be betrayed and arrested. He is with the twelve in a first-floor room in what will be their final meal together. Food is prepared. Everything is ready. They enter the room and take their places. 

Forget Leonardo da Vinci’s famous painting of the last supper. There are no knives, forks or chairs. No one is sitting up. Instead, everyone is lying on a soft cushion, leaning on their left elbow, so as to eat using their right hand. Their heads naturally rest close to the chest of the person to their left, their feet all point away from the low table rather than tuck under it.

In our culture, people wash their hands before sitting down for a meal. But in Bible times people wash feet as they enter a house. Nick Page, in his book The Longest Week, explains why this is so necessary. “Judean cities were… filthy” he writes. “Walking through the streets was a matter of negotiating the dirt and the dust, the excrement and waste matter, ashes from fires and rotten food.”

Even in 1980, when I visited Jerusalem as a tourist, I remember our guide telling our group, “Mind where you’re treading because it could be anything - and probably is.” 

In addition to the unsanitary approach to waste disposal, water is scarce in Jerusalem - it still is today - and there is very little rain during the year to naturally clean the streets. People in first-century days, if they owned footwear, wore open-toed sandals. Everyone’s feet got very dirty very quickly. It stinks. It’s nauseating. It is enough to put you off your food. 

Unsurprisingly, nobody wants the job of cleaning feet. It became the most demeaning and humiliating of tasks. And in that very hierarchical society, it wasn’t the done thing even to wash the feet of an equal. The thought would never occur to anyone to wash the feet of one below them in the pecking order. 

In Luke’s Gospel, it says that a dispute arose as they were gathering around the table as to which of the twelve was the greatest among them. Who’s the most important? Who’s top dog? Who gets the places of honour? This is how it worked; the second lowest ranking servant had the demeaning task of unfastening and removing people’s sandals. But only the absolute lowest of household servants had the worst job of actually washing the feet afterwards. 

John the Baptist looked at Jesus and said, “I am not worthy of untying his sandals.” I’m not quite up the second-worst job. But Jesus didn’t think the most demeaning task of washing feet was beneath him.

It’s difficult to think of an equivalent for our day and age; imagine being invited out to dinner at someone’s house and just before you sit down to eat, your host gives you a toilet brush and a bottle of Toilet Duck and asks you to clean the toilets because they haven’t been done for weeks. You’d be offended and taken aback wouldn’t you? You would never expect anyone to ask such a thing.

But in John 13, during the meal, to everyone’s amazement, Jesus abruptly pushes himself up from his mat, leaves the table, takes off his outer cloak, thus adopting the simple clothing of a slave, ties a towel around his waist, fills a bowl and begins to wash his disciples’ feet. 

This is what the kind of thing Philippians 2 means when it says, “He made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant… humbling himself.” This isn’t just poetic licence, it is literally what Jesus does here. He makes himself nothing as, one by one… he carefully removes each sandal. He takes the very nature of a servant as he holds each dusty, sweaty, hairy-toed, verruca-spotted, gross smelling foot in his hands, lifts it into the water bowl, splashes fresh water over the ankles, and rubs away the ground-in dirt, paying particular attention to between the toes, until each is clean again. He humbles himself as he dries each foot with his towel. Then he drains away the polluted water, fills the bowl again and moves on to the next disciple. 

Jesus washes these men’s feet one by one – apparently in awkward silence. Until he gets to Simon Peter, who true to form, is verbally incontinent. Peter can’t stay quiet any longer. “Lord; are you going to wash my feet?” In fact, according to Nick Page, in the Greek, Peter splutters incoherently in astonishment and it literally reads, “Master, you… my!”

I think Peter really wants Jesus to suddenly coil back and say, “Oh, Peter, you’re so right! What was I thinking! Of course, this is totally inappropriate. I’m getting this all wrong. I deserve the VIP Lounge treatment. You, Peter, are obviously my subordinate. At the very least, this should be the other way round. Let's see if we can find an unsuspecting chav to take care of the foot washing!” But, of course, Jesus doesn’t say that.

Jesus is actually within his rights to insist that everybody washes their own feet, since there’s no servant available. “Come on guys, you’ve got to take responsibility for your foul-smelling feet, it’s overpowering.” Instead, he insists on washing them all, and he answers Peter, “You don’t understand now what this is about, but it will be clear enough to you later.” 

Peter persists though. Maybe if he just protests loudly enough, Jesus will see Peter is really uncomfortable and back down. “You shall never wash my feet,” he says in v8. Jesus doesn’t blink. “Peter, if I don’t wash you, you have no part with me.” He’s saying, unless you surrender and let me do this, you can’t be part of what I’m doing. 

Let Jesus cleanse you

We have to allow Jesus to wash us. 

Jesus is certainly commenting here on Peter’s personal hygiene. “Peter, I’ll be frank with you. Your feet are so rank that I don’t think I’m ready for the main course until we've sorted this out.” The state of Peter’s feet (and everyone else’s) is putting everyone off their food. 

But, as is so often the case in John’s Gospel, there’s a deeper level to what Jesus saying here. There is a spiritual significance to this washing of feet which Peter is not going to fully grasp until he receives the Holy Spirit, who will remind him of everything Jesus said to him and lead him into all truth. This foot washing thing is, in fact, a prophetic picture of Jesus’ atoning death on the cross that’s just hours away.

As he suffers in agony and dies, Jesus will take the dirt and darkness that pollutes every heart and put it on himself. On the cross, God will make Christ, who has no sin, to become sin for us, so that in him we might become the righteousness of God. Jesus will take on himself the full blame and the whole punishment for all our moral filth – everything, once for all. This is what Jesus means in v8. He’s saying, “Peter, unless you are ready to let me wash away the stain of sin, the stubborn rebellion against God, in your life, I am wasting my time with you.” 

And so it is for each of us this morning. I am dirty before God because of my many sins, and there is nothing I can do to clean myself up. Everybody who has ever lived on this earth is in the same boat.

Isaiah 64.6 says that even our righteous acts are like filthy rags. That’s the good things we do. Oh, the ego, the pride, the vanity they lead to. Your dilemma, and mine, is that we need much more than a quick spiritual wipe down to bring us up to scratch. The amazing truth is that God’s love is so high, low, deep and wide that he decisively cleanses us from every sin; past, present and future, by making us clean, washing away the otherwise permanent stain of sin forever. That’s what the cross is all about. 

Are you allowing Jesus to come near to you, to wash your feet? Are you gladly submitting to his headship, letting him cleanse you of sin? Are you allowing Christ to perform that ongoing washing and refining that you need to stay in a life-giving relationship with God?

Some people needlessly forfeit intimacy with God because they won’t let Christ take their shame and guilt away. “No Lord,” says Peter, “you will never wash my feet!” Some resist this because they are unwilling to submit to Christ's moral leadership; “Jesus, I am not willing to accept your decision as final on my relationships, choices and values.” 

Or it may be a refusal to admit that there is a need for cleansing; “Lord, I’m all right really, just as I am. I’m comfortable with the darkness in my heart. I’m used to it. I don’t want you to change anything.” 

Or there may be a lack faith in Christ's power to cleanse. “Lord, do you have what it takes to clean up a life as messed up as mine?” Peter gets it at last. “Master!” he says. “Not only my feet, then. Wash my hands! Wash my head!” 

Serve one another in love

But that’s not all. Jesus doesn’t stop there. He finishes off, washes them all, including Judas, even Judas, and then puts his outer garment back on. Everyone’s eyes follow him back to his place at the table. I bet you can hear a pin drop. What is he going to say now? Could he possibly come out with something more outrageous? 

Let’s pick it up again at v12. “Do you understand what I have done for you?” he asks them. No answer. No one dares speak. They still don't understand at all. “You call me Teacher and Lord,” says Jesus, “and rightly so, for that is what I am. Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another’s feet. I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you.” 

Can Jesus possibly come out with something harder to accept than washing their feet? Yes, he can. He says here that it isn’t enough that God incarnate gets street grime and unmentionables from your feet under his fingernails just before sitting down to dinner. This is in fact a hands-on practical training course! “You also should wash one another’s feet.”

In the last few hours before Jesus' death, the Bible tells us about two bowls of water. There’s this one used by Jesus for washing feet. Can you think what the other one was? 

It was the one used by Pontius Pilate to wash his hands of Jesus. There are only two bowls; which are you going to chose? Is it the one that represents a life of humble service to others? Or is it the one that epitomises indifference to Jesus and his message? There’s no third bowl in between those two.

The missionary to China Hudson Taylor used to say, “A little thing is a little thing, but faithfulness in a little thing is a big thing.” Washington DC pastor Mark Batterson adds, “If you do little things like they were big things, God will do big things like they were little things.”

There was a vicar in Sandringham, Norfolk who used to preach to the royal family whenever they were in residence. And King George VI once said to this minister, “Why is it that when you preach, what you say touches my heart more than any other preacher I know?“ The vicar said, “Your Majesty, I don’t know if I want to tell you.” The king said, “Go ahead, please do, you can tell me.” 

So he said, “Well, whenever I preach, I focus my attention on the humblest, lowliest maid from the royal household sitting in the back pew and I preach from my heart to her servant heart.” That’s the reason George VI, who knew the Lord, was so touched. It’s because he too had a heart of service.

He passed that on to his daughter, Princess Elizabeth. On 21 April 1947, her 21st birthday, she delivered a speech when visiting South Africa. “My whole life,” she said, “whether it be long or short, shall be devoted to your service.” It is said that these words moved Winston Churchill to tears.

She absolutely kept her promise. She was still hard at work in the week she died, three decades after retirement age, without showing the faintest hint of self-importance or self-pity. She truly was a servant queen. Meekness and majesty, just like her Lord and Saviour.

Are you up for following Christ’s example of serving others? Who can you serve today? And listen, if you want blessing in your life, do you? If you want to see God's favour in your life, there is a particular and special blessing that God sets aside for everyone who follows through and serves as Jesus did. 

The last verse of our Bible reading, v17, leaves us in no doubt; “Now that you know these things, (the importance of washing one another’s feet) you will be blessed if you do them.” Do you want blessing in your life? There’s the secret, right there. A life spent in the service of others unlocks a river of God's favour and blessing.

Ending

But as I come in to land, let’s circle back to the first verse of this chapter. 

"It was just before the Passover Festival. Jesus knew that the hour had come for him to leave this world and go to the Father. Having loved his own who were in the world, he loved them to the end."

Jesus knows he is going to be betrayed by our villain Judas immediately following this incident. He knows our hero Simon Peter will deny all knowledge of him three times before daybreak. We'll get into that next week. He knows all of them will desert him and run away. He knows.

And still, it says, “he loved them to the end” or as another version translates it, “he now showed them the full extent of his love.” The Lord knows us completely, inside and out. Like Simon Peter, he knows what we will do and fail to do, and say and fail to say tomorrow. He knows what we are made of and all the little ways we will mess up today, tomorrow and the next day. 

And still, he loves you. How are you going to respond now, as we come to the Lord's table, to the irrepressible love of God for you?

Sermon preached at King's Church Darlington, 28 September 2025.

 

 

 

Simon Peter: Prophetic or Pathetic? (Mark 8.27-37)

Introduction

 

The American author and humourist Samuel Langhorne Clemens (better known as Mark Twain) was once travelling home on a train from the north-eastern state of Maine after three weeks of very successful fishing. The thing is though, it was out of season for freshwater fishing in that part of the USA so it was strictly forbidden and, had he been found out, he would have faced a hefty fine.

But it didn’t stop him bragging about his very impressive but very illegal haul of trout to the only other passenger in the carriage. This fellow traveller grew increasingly ashen as he listened to Mark Twain’s cocky boasting. When Twain finally asked him what he did for a living, the stranger explained that he was the State Fisheries and Game Inspector. “And who are you?” he asked. “To tell the truth”, Twain said, “I’m the biggest liar in the whole of the United States!”

Have you ever opened your mouth and come out with something you instantly regretted? Maybe asking a woman if she is expecting a boy or a girl and learning from her reply that she is expecting neither because she is not pregnant…

Years ago, I remember getting collared by a very strange and extremely talkative man after church one Sunday, and when, after what seemed like half an hour, I finally escaped, I said to one of my colleagues, “Pfff, who’s that guy?” only to hear the reply, “Well, it’s my dad, who’s with us this weekend.”

Someone once said, “It is better to keep silent and be thought a fool than open it and remove all doubt.” And there are few people for whom that is more true than Simon Peter.

His mouth works twice as fast as his brain, so he routinely bursts out with impulsive remarks that surprise everyone. And that means two things; either his comments are highly ill-advised, or they’re absolutely inspired.

And the passage we’re going to look at today is ‘buy one, get one free’ time, because inside a minute Peter comes out with both the prophetic and the pathetic. And so, in a flash, he goes from hero to zero.

Let’s read Mark 8.27-37.

 

Jesus and his disciples went on to the villages around Caesarea Philippi. On the way he asked them, ‘Who do people say I am?’

They replied, ‘Some say John the Baptist; others say Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.’

‘But what about you?’ he asked. ‘Who do you say I am?’

Peter answered, ‘You are the Messiah.’

Jesus warned them not to tell anyone about him.

He then began to teach them that the Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests and the teachers of the law, and that he must be killed and after three days rise again. He spoke plainly about this, and Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him.

But when Jesus turned and looked at his disciples, he rebuked Peter. ‘Get behind me, Satan!’ he said. ‘You do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns.’

Then he called the crowd to him along with his disciples and said: ‘Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for me and for the gospel will save it. What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul? Or what can anyone give in exchange for their soul?

 

Prayer…

 

Every commentary on the Gospel of Mark will tell you that this is a watershed moment. Up to this point, the first eight chapters of Mark have abounded with miracles but been short on teaching; but from here onwards, the last eight chapters will be packed with teaching and short on miracles. The first half of Mark is mostly set in the north where Jesus is popular; the second half is mostly set in the south where he is hated.

Everything in Mark’s Gospel before this scene explores the question, “who do we say Jesus is?” What do you think? All of us here this morning, every man, woman and child, has to answer this question for themselves.

Who is this man who forgives sinners, who feeds the crowds with a single packed lunch, who never loses an argument, who walks on water, who always knows what to do, who casts out demons, who heals the sick, who cleanses lepers, who tells the weather what to do, and even raises the dead? Who is this? A young man of 30 cannot possibly be as wise and influential as he is.

The demons all know; “I know who you are, the Son of God” they scream, but every time they speak, Jesus tells them to be quiet. So a rumour begins to spread that he must have had some sort of previous existence. People haven’t seen anything like the signs and wonders he does since Elijah’s day, so some think it’s a reincarnation of him. King Herod superstitiously thinks he is John the Baptist come back to haunt him. His family think he is mad.

But this question, “Who is Jesus?” is only at this point settled by Simon Peter, “You are the Messiah” he says. The Christ, the anointed one, the special one, the chosen one. You’re the one sent from heaven to earth that we’ve all been waiting for.

Well done, Peter! That’s the right answer. And from this point on, Mark’s interest is no longer “Who is Jesus?” From now on, it’s “Why will the Son of Man have to suffer?”

So in v31, in our passage, now we know who he is, Jesus begins to explain, for the first time, that he must go to Jerusalem and face the religious authorities. And they will mock him, and spit on him, and falsely accuse him, and condemn him to death, and there he will die and after three days rise again. Mark tells us that Jesus’ language is clear and explicit. “He spoke plainly about this,” says v32.

And in an instant, Peter goes from star of the week to dunce of the month. Because on hearing that Jesus expects to suffer on a cross and die, Peter grabs Jesus by the arm, and he takes him to one side, and he starts telling him off. Mark says, “He began to rebuke him.”

It’s so much harder to hear God’s voice when you have already decided what he can and cannot say.

Matthew’s Gospel records some of Peter’s words; listen to what comes out of his mouth. “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you.” And then we are confronted by these jarring words. Jesus turns and says, “Get behind me, Satan! You do not have in mind the concerns of God.” 


It must have stung Peter to hear that. Let us not sanitise this or brush over it. This is a severe reprimand, isn’t it? I can just imagine everyone cringing and suddenly going very quiet as Jesus said it.

Why does he give Peter such a crushing telling off? If Peter gets his way here, there is no cross, no forgiveness, no resurrection, no salvation for the world and you and I would be lost in hell, without hope, forever. That’s why Jesus says to Peter what he said to the devil in the wilderness; “Out of my sight, Satan.” 

So then, how can Peter get it all so wrong so soon after getting it all so right?

 

1) Getting it so right

 

First of all, what’s going on here to inspire Peter to be so spot on?

Matthew’s version of this same incident tells us. On hearing Peter say, “You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God” Jesus replies, “Blessed are you, Simon son of Jonah, for this was not revealed to you by flesh and blood, but by my Father in heaven.”

No one told Peter who Jesus is. What Peter says here was not picked up in a theology course or read in a book somewhere. Nor did he mull this over for weeks and arrive at a logical conclusion. This was a spontaneous, prophetic revelation. He heard from God and spoke it out, as ever, without thinking any of his words through, or analysing the question, or giving it the slightest critical consideration.

We know this because just a few verses earlier in Mark 8, Jesus speaks to all the disciples, including Peter, and he says, with exasperation, “Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened? Do you have eyes but fail to see? And ears but fail to hear?” And reminding them of the miracle of feeding the 5,000 days earlier, he says, “Don’t you remember? Do you still not understand?”

So when Peter comes out shortly after with this decisive testimony of who Jesus is, it’s clearly not because he’s an erudite man of great learning and understanding. He’s like Noel Gallagher’s description of his brother Liam. Peter is “a man with a fork in a world of soup.” Most of the time, Peter just doesn’t get it!

But God can speak to, and through, literally anyone. God wants a people who are filled with the Holy Spirit, who hear his voice, where sons and daughters prophesy, where old and young, and men and women alike are seeing visions and dreaming dreams. Speaking out what people need to hear, not what they want to hear. This is God's design for us.

In his book No Well-Worn Paths, Terry Virgo speaks of a visit to Metro Vineyard Church in Kansas City in 1995. For over half an hour, a preacher called Paul Cain spoke prophetic words over individuals in the 2,000 strong congregation. At one point, Terry and Wendy heard their names being spoken. They were asked to stand with their family. Paul Cain had, at that point, briefly met Terry and their eldest son Ben but he knew nothing else about the family. 

Nevertheless, he proceeded to name all five children accurately. He told their daughter Anna that she had a South-African in her heart. (She went on to marry South African church leader Steve van Rhyn). He gave words to their son Joel about a time he had spent in Africa. He even gave a word concerning their third son Simon, who was 16 years old at the time and had backslidden and drifted away from God. He quoted Jesus’ famous words; “Simon, Simon, Satan has desired to have you that he might sift you as wheat.” He spoke a word of promise and of recovery. Simon is now a church elder in Richmond on Thames.

About 10 years after this, I was at a ministry training day in Versailles, France. And at the end of one session, the main speaker said, “I’ve brought a team with me and they’ve been standing at the back, praying over you and asking God for words for you while I have been teaching. I thought, “I bet there won’t be a word for me. There’ll be words for everyone else, but not for me. There’s never anything for me.” 

So imagine my surprise when they come forward and this guy picks me out first and begins to prophesy over me, including details such as my name (though he did not know me), the very specific focus of my ministry (so specific I was the only person in the country his words applied to) and also the biggest issue I was struggling with at that time which was gladly submitting to the authority of people I did not respect.

A colleague of mine was there with me and he said, “Of the 6 billion people alive on planet Earth, if you asked me ‘who is that man describing?’ I would reply without hesitation, John Lambert.” It was scary, actually. I remember my heart thumping inside my chest as the fear of God came over me. I mean, what else was this guy going to reveal in front of all these people? The secrets of my heart were being laid bare.

Kathie and I got to know that man quite well; we invited him to speak at a couple of church weekends for us and each time, his accuracy in words of knowledge and prophetic revelation was truly amazing. I once asked him before he spoke at our gatherings if he wanted me to share any background about the church, where we were at, what we were facing… and he said, “No. The less I know about a church, the more accurate my prophetic ministry tends to be.”

In 2 Peter 1, Peter talks about how the prophetic works. Peter says, “prophecy never had its origin in the human will, but prophets, though human, spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” That word “carried along” in the original Greek is the same word as the one used in Acts 27 to describe a ship being driven across the sea by a storm.

This is surely Peter’s own experience here in Mark 8. “You are the Christ!” he hears himself say before the words have been processed in his brain. Peter’s tongue is being carried along by the Holy Spirit as he reveals Jesus’ true identity to the world.

We would so love to grow, as a church, in prophetic ministry. We believe God has more for us than we presently experience. The Bible says, “eagerly desire spiritual gifts, especially prophecy.” This has been a prayerful preoccupation for our elders for some time now. How can we get released by God into a greater prophetic anointing? And we hope to announce soon how we intend to advance in these things.

 

2) Getting it so wrong

Well, how does Peter get it so wrong after getting it so right?

I don’t think it's his inability to comprehend. I think that if Peter says, “Lord, I’m not sure I really follow you. Did you just say go to Jerusalem and die? Can you just expand please, because I’m struggling to understand that…” If he says that I think Jesus just patiently explains.

The problem is surely his tone. Taking Jesus by the elbow, pulling him to one side and rebuking him, saying, “No way, this is not happening on my watch,” that’s the issue. We don’t get to lecture God on what he can and cannot do.

Some years after that (for me) breathtaking prophetic word over my life, in Versailles, I looked up the Facebook page of the guy who spoke so powerfully and insightfully into my life. I knew he travelled widely, including internationally. Where had he been? What was God doing? What uplifting testimonies of grace and blessing might I read about?

To my dismay, I found post after post on his page grumbling about politics. If he wasn’t criticising the government, or expressing his displeasure about a prominent politician, he’d be weighing in with a spiky comment about some political controversy. The whole tone was off - there was nothing about Jesus, nothing about the gospel, nothing about changed lives, just fanning the flames of contentious issues like Brexit.

It reminded me more of Peter taking Jesus aside and blurting out something misguided than Peter announcing to the world who Jesus is.

James 3 says, “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse people, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come praise and cursing. My brothers and sisters, this should not be.”

I remember a listening to a well-known speaker at a conference, many of you will have heard of him, about an incident in his church. In mid-flow of a sermon, he noticed a man, about 25 years old, he had never seen before and he asked him to stand. What you could see is this: his hair was unkempt. He looked unwashed. He was a bit of a scruff. What you couldn’t see is this: he was a heroin addict, unable to sustain any kind of relationship. He was living in squalor, unemployed and frankly unemployable. And the word from God that day for him declared that the Lord saw in him a holy man.

Eight years later, the same man walked up to this church leader and asked, “do you remember me?” Honestly, the answer was “no.” He said, I’m sorry I can’t place you.” So, the young man told his story. When the preacher spoke that word, eight years earlier, that young man was instantly delivered of his secret heroin addiction. Within months he had got a job, settled down, met a girl, got married, and bought a house. For eight years, he had been clean, and walking with God. God’s word calls into being things that are not.

Several years later though, that same preacher got himself into a bit of a predicament because, months before the vote, he very publicly predicted who was going to win the US presidential election. “God has told me that so and so is going to win office. And he called it wrong.

Ecclesiastes 3 says there is a time to speak and a time to be silent. To his credit, that man publicly acknowledged his error, humbled himself, asked for forgiveness and said he’d learn from the experience.

 

Ending

 

But it just goes to show again how, like Peter, we in our day can also get it so right and get it so wrong.

This is why 1 Thessalonians 5 says, “Do not stifle the Holy Spirit. Do not scoff at prophecies, but test everything that is said. Hold on to what is good. Stay away from every kind of evil.”

1 Corinthians 14 explains that God expects us to examine prophetic contributions. “Two or three prophets should speak,” it says, “and the others should weigh carefully what is said.” And that’s what we try to do here whenever someone brings a word.

But as I close, let’s come back to learning from Simon Peter. What does this story tell us about our own discipleship? What is God saying to you this morning?

Are you prepared to publicly confess your faith in Christ? Are you prepared to take up your cross, to let your old life go? 

Are you too risk-averse, scared of getting it all wrong? Many of us are reluctant to share a word because of fear.  

- You’re less likely to mishear God if you have cultivated a heart of worship. 

- You’re less likely to get it all wrong if your mind is saturated with the word of God. No prophetic word will ever contradict or undermine holy scripture. As Voddie Baucham puts it, “The Lord told me” can never replace “The Bible says.” 

- You’re less likely to put your foot in it if you have cultivated a gentle and meek heart. Like Mary, the Lord's mother, who said, “I am the Lord’s servant. Let it be to me according to his word.”

And, more positively, are you eagerly desiring spiritual gifts, especially prophecy? Scripture commands it. Are you inclined to take a risk, and step out in faith? If you are then, like Peter, you’re a rock. And it’s on that kind of brave faith that Jesus is going to build his church.

Let’s stand to pray...

Sermon preached at King's Church Darlington, 14 September 2025