S. Peter’s Fall

S. Mark xiv. 66–72

An Oriental palace was frequently built in the form of a quadrangle. A porch or gateway in the front led to a large inner courtyard, open to the sky, round which were the servants’ offices and public reception-rooms, sometimes raised by steps above the level of the ground. The living-quarters of the occupants were on the second story. At the time of which we are reading, Jesus was being examined by the informal Court gathered under the Presidency of Caiaphas in one of the lower chambers. After He had been brought in by the party who arrested Him, the gateway of the palace was closed to avoid the possibility of a rescue, for the High Priest was in fear of a reaction in favour of the Prisoner. The attendants and other servants of the judges remained within call in the inner yard. It was past midnight, and as the air was cold at that season, they lit a fire in their midst, and began to talk over the exciting events of the last few hours. Meanwhile two of the Apostles, S. John and S. Peter, having recovered from the panic which had seized them in the Garden, found themselves at the porch of the palace. S. John, perhaps as being a friend of Caiaphas, was known to the portress, and had no difficulty in gaining admission; but his companion was shut out. We often read of apparently trivial incidents preventing a great catastrophe or saving lives which must otherwise have been lost, and they are regarded as Providential interpositions by those who have met with them. Was it not some such merciful Providence that literally closed the door in the very face of the Apostle on that fatal night? Was it not an echo of the forgotten warning, “Thou canst not follow Me now “? Knowing as we do the terrible consequences of his admission, we may well regret that he was not superstitious enough, as men say, to hurry away from the scene.

There is a marked change in his conduct at this stage. The courage and daring which made him draw his sword at once in defence of his Master has forsaken him. There is no longer any hope or thought of defending Him, and curiosity has succeeded to devotion. He could actually bring himself to play the part of a common spectator, and as S. Matthew says, “he went in, and sat with the servants, to see the end.” It was certain to bring him into trouble, for he had at once to disguise himself, to wear a mask, and play a character that was not his own. And so it came to pass that as he stood in the crowd, pretending to no greater interest in the proceedings than the rest, he was surprised by the observation of a maid who belonged to the palace. She had recognised S. John as he entered, and now, when she joined the other servants who were in the courtyard, a sudden blaze of the fire lit up S. Peter’s face, and she recollected his features as well, and made the observation, “Thou also wast with Jesus of Nazareth.” Perhaps the Apostle thought within himself that she would be satisfied if he evaded the question, so he said that he did not know Him, nor quite understand what it was that she meant.

His purpose was gained, and suspicion averted for a time; but prudence suggested that he should withdraw as soon as he conveniently could, and he exchanged the bright glare of the fireside for the shade and retirement of the porch. While he was standing there the maid, who had been silenced by his ready denial, seeing him again, became more than ever convinced that she was right in her opinion, and she told the people about her that she was sure he was “one of them.” They at once took the matter up and asked him, as S. John tells us, “Art not thou also one of this Man’s disciples?” “and he denied it again.” “About the space of one hour after” the accusation was renewed. He had regained confidence, and ventured to take part in the conversation that was going on. Under the influence of his excitement, some peculiarity of speech, generally thought to have been “a confused thick utterance of the guttural letters,” 2 betrayed his “provincial” origin. The bystanders at once detected it, and said to him, “Surely thou art one of them, for thou art a Galilean, and thy speech agreeth thereto.” Others took up the charge, and one especially who had good cause to remember him — for he had cut off his kinsman’s ear — came forward and confronted him with a most emphatic question, “Did not 73 see thee in the Garden with Him?” “But he began to curse and to swear, saying, I know not this Man of Whom ye speak.”

Now it is well known that there are varieties of detail in the four records of S. Peter’s threefold denial. The discrepancies have been spoken of as irreconcilable, and attempts to shake the credibility and trustworthiness of Holy Scripture have been based upon this supposition. Careful examination will show that “the incidents given by the different Evangelists are completely in harmony with the belief that there were three denials, that is, three acts of denial, of which the several writers have taken such features as seemed to be most significant for their purpose.” The multiplicity of charges

1 The definite article is in the original, and points to the identity of this maid with the one who had charged him before.

2 It is supposed that their pronunciation of Hebrew had become affected by their intercourse with Gentiles. It was so thick and unintelligible that they were not allowed to read in the synagogues. Cf. Lange, iii. 247.

3 It is emphasised by the insertion of eyu.

4 Dr. Westcott in his commentary on S. John has given a carefully prev. 66-72 S. Peter’s Fall 341 again may well be illustrated out of our own experience. We have witnessed, no doubt, a scene in which a crowd of people in a state of excitement are setting upon an individual whom they believe to have done something of which they disapprove. No sooner has one begun to accuse him of it than another comes up and adds to the charge, another insists upon it with gestures of violence, another can prove it if they will only let him speak, and then perhaps several cry out at once. The bewildered man tries to exculpate himself from the Babel of charges. He says anything and everything in the excitement of the moment, and at last, when matters become desperate, loses all control over his words.

This is almost exactly what happened in the last “act of denial,” in the courtyard of the High Priest’s palace. S. Peter was driven to bay by a multitude of excited assailants, and perhaps hardly knowing, certainly not realising, what he said, he appealed to heaven and called down Divine vengeance upon his head if his denial were untrue. And at that moment, in the lull which such an awful adjuration must have produced, “the second time the cock crew.” Simultaneously with the sound, which, coming when it did, must have brought a rush of tumultuous thoughts into his mind, the eyes of the Master, Whom he had so basely denied, were fixed upon him. He was being led out by an armed escort from the private Council-chamber towards the porch, and “the Lord turned and looked upon Peter,” and that look, “sharper than any two-edged sword,” pierced him to the very heart, for “when he thought thereon” 2 he went out and was overwhelmed with grief. There is a very touching tradition which, whether true pared table of the three denials and helped to clear away some of the difficulties. In the first, all the Evangelists are practically agreed that the charge was brought by the portress; in the second the charge is made indirectly by the same and another maid, directly by “another man” and some undefined people spoken of as “they;” in the third indirectly by “another,” and directly by the kinsman of Malchus, and in a different form by the bystanders. or not, is at least in perfect accord with the depth and reality of his penitence. It is said that for nearly forty years, till a martyr’s death sealed his repentance, the remembrance of that scene never left him, and that “morning by morning he rose at the hour when the look of his Master entered into his soul, to pray once more for pardon.”

Two practical reflections arise out of this fateful episode of the Apostle’s fall. It teaches us the peril of trusting too much to our feelings. There was no one in the Apostolic company who could compare for an instant for zeal and enthusiasm with the warm-hearted and impulsive Peter. It led him to cast himself into the sea when he saw the Master coming: it betrayed him into rebuking Jesus for even hinting at His Passion: it impelled him also to draw his sword and attack the very foremost in the fray, when they came to arrest the Lord in Gethsemane. And yet he has proved for our admonition that the most fervent zeal may evaporate and be wasted, unless it be chastened and safeguarded by constant watchfulness and prayer.

Again, we may learn from his example that warnings of danger are only disregarded at our peril. “Thou canst not follow Me now.” That word, spoken by One Who had never deceived him, should have made him more wary. “Put up thy sword into the sheath;” it was meant to tell him that something over and above physical courage was needed in that hour. “The door of the palace closed in his face;” it ought to have kept him from treading on forbidden ground. Let the consequences of his self-confidence bring home the value of the Apostolic precept, “Be not high-minded, but fear.”

Note: This is mistranslated “palace” in the A.V.

Note: “Beneath in the palace,” or “below in the courtyard,” as it should be rendered, need imply no more than this; not that the Council-chamber was on the upper story. 3 Cf. pp. 38, 39.

Note: This was on His way to the Lischath Haggazith, if the Sanhedrim still held its sittings there. If not, perhaps they were going to one of the “Booths.” In either case they must have left the palace.

Note: eirifiaXuv has received a variety of interpretations. “Throwing his mantle over his head,” “throwing himself into it,” “thinking it over.” Hlo.iev, the imperfect tense, shows that it was not a mere outburst of grief, but long continued.