He warned you. Just hours ago, He called your name. Twice. He said your name twice, just like He always did when He was making an important point. “Simon, Simon, behold, Satan hath desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat.” You instantly had a picture of Satan tossing you up into the air, and you falling to the ground.
The whole process is repeated over and over until you have been separated from your faith like the shell of a husk is torn from the grain.
The shell of you blows away and the faith you used to have lies alone, unattached, unmoving on the ground. You argued, “No, Lord! I’m ready to go to prison with you and even to die with you. I’ll never leave you!” He shook His head sadly and fixed His eyes (Oh! Those eyes!) on you. “I tell you, Peter, the cock shall not crow this day, before you will thrice deny you even know me.”
Then the hours in the Garden. The arrest. Everyone was scattered, leaving Jesus alone in the hands of His enemies. You followed in the darkness to see where they would take Him. They took Him to the high priest’s house, and you followed, blending in with the crowd in the courtyard to see what would happen. It’s late and the night air at 2,500 feet is chilled.
You push in around the fire to warm yourself. Everyone in the courtyard could see the trial taking place.
They watched with interest, but none with more interest than you. More than interest. Yours was no idle curiosity. Your heart pounded in your chest. You willed Jesus to proclaim Himself. To say, “Yes! I am the Son of David and the King of the Jews!” You hoped that this man you had seen open the blind eyes would blind those who accused Him.
That this man who had raised the dead would strike all of them dead at once. You knew He could do it. You hoped He would. Instead, He remained silent. Your thoughts skewed between fear and faith. You looked around for a loaf of bread, wondering if you could rush through the guards and thrust it at Him so He could show them all what He could do. You wanted to scream, “Prove yourself!”
Your thoughts were interrupted by a woman who walked by, stopped, and turned toward you. She stooped down to see your face and proclaimed, “This man was also with Jesus!” The icy hand of fear touched your spine and you lied. You didn’t even think about it. You just lied. “I’m not with Him.” That’s when something died within you. You just denied your friend. You blinked hard. Smoke in your eyes. You asked yourself, “What have I done?” You continued to watch the trial feeling numb. After a little while a man said, “You are one of them.” Again, the words just rushed out on their own accord. “Man, I am not!” You emphasized it with an oath. Gall rose in your throat, and you thought you would be sick. You swallowed your self loathing, and it went down like poison. You shivered from the cold, or from something that went much deeper than the cold. You were miserable. You watched Him standing there so alone, so brave. You imagined yourself rushing to His side, wrenching a weapon from one of the guards and leading Jesus to safety, fighting your way through the hostile crowd. Your daydreams were interrupted by another man who stoutly affirmed, “It’s true. This fellow was with him for he is a Galilean.” You stood to challenge him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You began to curse and swear, “I don’t know the man!”
That’s when the cock crowed.
There was a moment of silence in response to your vehement cursing. In that silence you glanced up at Jesus. He was looking at you. And you remembered what He had said earlier, “Before the cock crow, you will deny me three times.” You stumbled blindly away from the fire, pushing uncaringly through the crowd. Out of the courtyard. Down the steps. You careened until you were alone, beyond the reach of a helping hand, swallowed by the darkness. Bitterly, you wept.
You wept until you had no more tears and the sobs still issued forth from your broken heart.
You wept as you remembered His eyes. You knew those eyes so well. What did they say? Not, “I told you so.” They weren’t condemning. That was not hatred or condemnation or judgment you saw. It was pain.
But not for Himself. He was hurting for you. He felt your pain. His eyes said, “I know what you’ve done but I love you anyway.” In those eyes were the only sign of hope in this Godforsaken,
hopeless night.
Excerpt from Bible Land Journey (2022) – by Johnny King. Calgary, Canada.
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