MAKING THE PASSION PERSONAL
A Journey with Jesus to the Cross and Beyond

by Tricia McCary Rhodes

DAY TEN -- At A Distance

You and I may give one another the impression of being earnest, godly Christians,
but before the Cross we have to admit that we are not that sort of person at all.
At Calvary the naked truth is staring down at us all the time from the Cross,
challenging us to drop the pose and own the truth.

Roy Hession

And Jesus said to him, "Truly I say to you, that this very night, before a rooster crows twice,
you yourself will deny Me three times."
Mark 14:30

During the interrogation by Annas, the crowd in the courtyard has grown. A maid is assigned to watch the gate, opening it only for those with official business. Hearing a familiar voice, she turns and sees John, one of Jesus' disciples. Because her family has done business with his for years, she lets him in, wondering why he would want to be here.

Another man tries to follow, but she pushes him back. John turns and asks permission for his friend to enter with him. She shrugs, cracking the gate open. "You too? Another follower of the carpenter from Nazareth?" She asks as he passes.

"Of course not." Peter answers and moves to a nearby fire, trying to blend in with the others in the courtyard. John goes into the palace to check on Jesus.

It isn't easy for either of them to be here. Putting their lives in danger, they have followed the crowd from a distance, down Mount Olivet and into the heart of the city, while the other disciples fled for safety. Peter's heart breaks at what they've done to his beloved teacher. He cannot leave him now.

Yet he has just denied even knowing Jesus. What does he think as he warms his hands? Why would this giant of a man fear the opinion of a courtyard maid? Heart pounding, Peter ponders his motives while trying to make small talk with the guards around the fire.

Suddenly one of them points right at him. "Why -- you have the voice of a Galilean. You must be one of the prisoner's followers!"

Peter opens his mouth, uncertain what to say. Others join in. "Yes -- you must be, or why would you be here? You're surely not one of us."

Bristling at their sarcasm, Peter rails at them, "I don't know what any of you are talking about." He glances around the circle to see if they believe him, but they've already changed the subject.

Trying to appear calm, Peter rises and finds a place to sit where he is hidden by shadows. Somewhere in the distance, a rooster crows. Again, Peter struggles. Why have I done this? I've never been afraid before -- I've fought my way out of more brawls than I care to remember . . . so why can't I tell the truth now and face the consequences?

The minutes stretch into an hour. Peter stares at the eastern sky. No sign of dawn -- will it ever break? And where is John? Why doesn't he come and give some word of their Master?

Inside the palace walls, John watches them tighten Jesus' ropes. He sees the bleeding lip and swollen face and knows it hasn't gone well. If only he could get his attention, just to let him know he and Peter have come. He tries to weave his way through the crowd, but the temple guards are pressing everyone back.

"Out -- everyone out. We must take him to our chief priest."

The guards move quickly, dragging Jesus in their midst. A bystander runs outside to spread the news. "He's coming -- they're bringing the prisoner through the courtyard to Caiaphas." Word spreads from servant to maid, from guard to priest, from fire to fire.

Peter's hands begin to shake. He has tried to remain hidden since they recognized his Galilean accent. But the coals from the fire where he stands have burst into flame, illuminating his face.

"You -- it is you! You're the one who cut off my uncle's ear when they tried to arrest the carpenter. You are one of his men."

Spewing foul and angry words, Peter denies ever having been in the presence of Jesus the Christ. But no one is listening now, the commotion across the way having caught their attention. The prisoner is being jerked and shoved through the courtyard.

Suddenly Jesus stops. For a brief second silence fills the air. He looks straight into the eyes of Simon Peter, his boisterous and bold disciple. What does he see? The wretchedness of shame? The hopelessness of failure? Does he wish he could reach out to Peter, to comfort him in some way and reassure him of his love?

"Get moving," a guard yells, and the rope is pulled once again. Jesus moves on.

Peter feels as if his stomach has been turned inside out. He must get out of here. Pushing his way toward the gate, a distant screech pierces the raucous revelry of the crowd, stopping Peter in his tracks. A rooster crows for the second time.

Haunting words batter his mind, relentless words, sickening words: ...before a rooster crows twice, you yourself will deny Me three times."

Peter turns and runs, hot tears burning his cheeks . . . past the castle gate, down a dark road, running, running, running till he can run no more. Collapsing on the hard ground, he sheds bitter tears, remorse filling every fiber of his being.

He has failed his teacher, his Lord, his friend. And nothing can ever soothe the ache in his gut, except perhaps a touch from Christ himself. But for now, that cannot be. Before this night is over, the Master will face the sentence of death. And Peter can only weep.