Luke 24:6
April 5, 2015 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
Using the painful reality of "complicated grief," Pastor Miles traces Peter's threefold failure—failing to pray, defending Jesus wrongly, and denying Christ three times—into the despair of Good Friday, then shows how the resurrection message "tell his disciples and Peter" reveals that Jesus calls for and forgives failures. The Easter gospel is that the risen Lord pardons sinners.
- "Complicated grief" describes sorrow compounded by harsh last words or failures that can never be taken back.
- Peter failed three ways: he could not stay awake to pray, he wrongly drew a sword, and he denied Jesus three times before the rooster crowed.
- Failure compounds grief—Peter wept bitterly and hid, certain he had lost any chance to make things right with Jesus.
- The angel's words "go and tell his disciples and Peter" single out the failure by name, showing he was not written off.
- Jesus calls for and forgives failures, because He came to call sinners, not the righteous.
- The resurrection is the proof that Christ's death is enough to forgive our sins and make us His followers.
"Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen! Remember how He spoke to you when He was still in Galilee." ()
Peter failed Jesus three times—yet the first resurrection message named him by name, because the risen Lord calls and forgives failures.
Complicated Grief
There is a diagnosable condition called complicated grief. It is often caused by one of many people's worst fears: that in the heat of anger they say an unkind thing to someone they love, cutting them with their words, never realizing it is the final exchange. Then hours later the phone rings—"there's been an accident," or "the doctor did his best, but it was a massive heart attack." The normal sorrow of sudden loss is compounded by words that can't be unsaid and things that can't be undone. There will never be a chance to say, "I'm sorry."
A mother's last words to her seven-year-old son—"You don't need a life jacket, you're a big boy, you can do this"—rang in her ears for years to come, complicating her grief. Sometimes loss comes so suddenly there is no time to prepare. But the result is always the same. People say, "If I had only known it would be the last time I would see them, I would have done it so differently." We are not always given that opportunity.
Three Years on the Road
They had spent more than three years with Him. Everywhere He went, they went—hundreds of miles, most of it on foot, some of it by boat. As they walked, He talked. Sometimes He spoke of strange things, breaking off into talk about sheep and shepherds or planting seeds, and they would wonder what He meant. But when He spoke of the kingdom of God, they lit up and hung on every word. They emulated Him. They ate, laughed, and prayed with Him. Sometimes He would slip away to a solitary place, and they would search Him out and say, "The multitudes are looking for you."
Regularly they left Galilee and traveled sixty miles or more down to Jerusalem for the feasts, joining multitudes from all over the nation. Everywhere He went He attracted a crowd, and this small group of men loved being at His side.
A Different Journey
On this most recent journey from Galilee to Jerusalem, things changed. His tone, the way He carried Himself, was different. He became more candid, more direct, more specific—almost as if He were on a mission, saying goodbye and preparing them for it. But that was not what they were hoping for. Their hearts were full of expectation. The crowds were bigger than ever, and something seemed different in the air.
Then He started saying the strangest things: "We're going to Jerusalem, and I'm going to be betrayed. I'm going to be arrested and condemned to die." One of His disciples even pulled Him aside and rebuked Him openly: "Far be it from you, Lord. This will not happen to you." Everything in His demeanor said that things were different.
The Upper Room
Then the great day came—the most celebrated of feasts. He told His disciples, "Make ready; we're going to celebrate tonight." As He sat down with them that Thursday night, He said, "With fervent desire I have desired to eat this Passover with you before I suffer." Everything in the room began to change. He got up and washed their feet, which was strange; Peter protested, "You're not supposed to do this." Then He broke bread: "Take, eat, this is my body, which is broken for you. Do this in remembrance of me." He took the cup: "This is the blood of the new covenant."
And then He said, "Assuredly, one of you is going to betray me." It was as if all the oxygen was sucked from the room. Why would anyone betray Him? They had watched Him day and night for three and a half years—a man who never harmed a person, who walked with meekness, who never double-crossed anyone. They began to ask, "Is it I? Is it I?" One of them, Judas, had to feign shock so as not to reveal that he had already begun the betrayal.
Peter's Bold Promise
In , we get further insight. Jesus said, "All of you will be made to stumble because of me this night. As it is written, 'I will strike the Shepherd, and the sheep of the flock will be scattered.' But after I have been raised, I will go before you to Galilee." Peter—the same one who said "Lord, you can't wash my feet" and "far be it from you"—answered, "Even if all are made to stumble because of you, I will never be made to stumble."
Jesus said, "Assuredly, I say to you that this night, before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times." Peter answered, "Even if I have to die with you, I will not deny you." And so said all His disciples. For some reason, every time Jesus told them He would rise again the third day, they shut their ears to it. They caught that He would suffer; they never grasped that He would rise.
Gethsemane
Then Jesus came with them to a place called Gethsemane. They left the upper room, crossed the Kidron Valley, and began to climb the Mount of Olives. He told most of His disciples to sit while He went to pray, taking Peter, James, and John a little farther. He began to be sorrowful and deeply distressed and said, "My soul is exceedingly sorrowful, even to death. Stay here and watch with me."
He went a little farther, fell on His face, and prayed, "O my Father, if it is possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will." He came and found them asleep. "Could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, lest you enter into temptation. The spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak." A second time and a third time He prayed and returned to find them sleeping.
The Arrest and the Sword
In that very moment a rush of people came into the place, led by someone the disciples knew—Judas Iscariot, the one Jesus had identified hours before. He had been with them when Jesus calmed the storm, walked on water, and fed the multitudes; he carried the money bag. He walked up and greeted Jesus with a kiss, and they laid hands on Him.
One of the disciples drew a sword. Peter, who could not stay awake to pray, now decided he would protect and defend the Lord. He was smart enough not to attack a trained Roman soldier; instead he cut off the ear of the high priest's servant. Jesus rebuked him—"Stop"—and healed the man's ear. If this were all the story held for Peter, the grief would already be complicated: he failed to pray, failed to defend the Lord rightly, and was rebuked. But that is not all.
Three Denials
In , having arrested Him, they led Jesus to the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. When they had kindled a fire in the courtyard, Peter sat among them. A servant girl looked intently at him and said, "This man also was with Him." But he denied it: "Woman, I do not know Him." A little later another said, "You also are with them." Peter said, "Man, I am not." After about an hour another confidently affirmed it: "Surely this fellow also was with Him, for he is a Galilean." Peter said, "Man, I do not know what you are saying." One of the other gospels says he swore.
Immediately, while he was still speaking, the rooster crowed. And the Lord—apparently within sight of Peter—turned and looked at him. It seems their eyes even met. Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken, and he went out and wept bitterly. That word "bitterly" carries the meaning of heart-wrenching, deeply distressed tears.
Failure Compounds Grief
The first point: failure compounds grief. Some of you know that in a very experiential way. Peter failed to pray, failed to protect, and forsook the Lord not once but three times. And to compound it, he did the exact thing Jesus said he would do, after swearing he would die first. A young girl—by the wording, perhaps in her early teens—says, "You're with that guy," and Peter says, "I don't know what you're talking about." Then he went out and wept bitterly. This was no small man, but a strong fisherman, the kind who would blame a tear on something in his eye. And now he weeps convulsively.
Within three hours of locking eyes with Jesus, that man was condemned to die by the Jewish council, by Herod, and by Pilate. Within six hours He was nailed to a cross outside the city. Within nine hours He breathed His last. By sundown His lifeless body lay in a cold, dark tomb, the stone rolled over the door. And where was Peter?
Sometimes Standouts Just Want to Hide
Peter was a standout—and a lot of Christians identify with him because he was good at putting his foot in his mouth. His real name was Simon, but at their first meeting Jesus said, "You will be called Cephas," or Peter, the Rock. It was Peter who walked on water in —yes, he sank, but none of the others did it. It was Peter who answered "You are the Christ, the Son of the living God," and who said, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." Peter was with James and John on the Mount of Transfiguration and when Jesus raised a young girl from the dead. He was a standout—and now he was the one who publicly denied Christ three times.
The second point: sometimes standouts just want to hide. Have you ever wanted to run as far away as possible, weeping until you have no tears left? That was Peter. Interestingly, the public disciples all hid, while the secret disciples came forward. Joseph of Arimathea, a disciple but secretly, asked Pilate for the body. Nicodemus, who had come to Jesus by night, came to help. They prepared the body for burial. But where was Peter? Hiding.
If Only
I wonder if Peter slept a wink that night, or had any appetite the next Sabbath morning. Over and over he must have thought: If only I had prayed with Him. If only I had stayed awake. If only I had said, "Yes, I am with Him." But there will never be a chance. If only I could talk with Him one last time. And even if He were alive—I denied Him openly. He would want nothing to do with a failure like me.
probably fit Peter those two nights: "I am weary with my groaning; all night I make my bed swim; I drench my couch with my tears. My eye wastes away because of grief." If only he had one more opportunity.
Go and Tell His Disciples—and Peter
And then there would be one. In , on the first day of the week, very early, the women came to the tomb with spices and found the stone rolled away. The body of Jesus was gone. Two men in shining garments said, "Why do you seek the living among the dead? He is not here, but is risen! Remember how He spoke to you while He was still in Galilee, saying the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men, and be crucified, and the third day rise again." And they remembered His words.
records the angel's words: "He is risen! He is not here... But go, tell His disciples—and Peter—that He is going before you into Galilee." I love that. Why single out "and Peter"? Could it be that some had already written him off as a failure, a denier? But the Lord says, "Go and tell the disciples and Peter."
The women returned and told the eleven, but their words seemed like idle tales, and they did not believe. "But Peter arose and ran to the tomb." John records that he and Peter both ran; John outran Peter and looked in, but Peter went right past him into the tomb, surely filled with great expectation—Go and tell the disciples and Peter.
Jesus Calls For and Forgives Failures
The third point: Jesus calls for and forgives failures. And that is good news, because every one of us is a failure. He said, "I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners. A physician is not needed for those who are well, but for those who are sick." If you are here today, God called you—not because you are perfect, but because you are imperfect.
He does not call failures to sit them down and demand, "What were you thinking? She was just a little girl." In fact, before all this happened, Jesus had told Peter, "Satan has desired to sift you like wheat, but when you return, strengthen your brothers." When you return. Jesus already knew, and He calls and forgives.
Some of you feel, "I failed so greatly, He would never forgive me. You don't know how bad I failed." I've had that conversation with dozens of people over the years. Listen: He calls and forgives failures. He calls daily, saying, "Turn to me," because He is abundant in grace and mercy, forgiving iniquity, transgression, and sin. That is the gospel. That is what Easter is all about. The risen Lord calls and forgives failures.
Closing Prayer
Father, we thank you for your great grace. Not a single one of us here is deserving, but we are grateful. Some standing here today feel like failures—and Lord, we are just a bunch of failures. You are the only one who is perfect, the only one who never fails. We fall short constantly, and we thank you for your great grace as we turn to you and confess, "Lord, I'm a failure," and you say, "I know, but I have forgiveness."
We pray for any here who think, "You could never forgive me. You don't know what I've done." Draw them by your Spirit. Jesus paid for all our sin on the cross, and three days later, on Resurrection Day, He rose from the dead, declaring that His death is enough. He died to forgive our failures and to make us His followers.
If you want to receive the grace and forgiveness of God today, simply call out to Him: Dear Jesus, I know that I'm a failure. I confess that I have failed. I thank you that you died to forgive me, and I ask that you would give me your grace. Help me to put my trust in you and to follow you by faith, to be one of your disciples. In Jesus' name. Amen.
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