Peter’s Restoration

Peter's Restoration

DELIVERED ON LORD'S DAY MORNING, JULY 22, 1888,

BY C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON.

"And immediately, while he yet spoke, the cock crowed. And the Lord
turned and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the
Lord, how He had said unto him, Before the cock crowed, you shall deny
Me thrice. And Peter went out and wept bitterly." Luke 22:60-62.

PETER had fallen terribly. He had denied his Master, denied Him
repeatedly, denied Him with oaths, denied Him in His Presence, while
His Master was being smitten and falsely charged. He denied Him, though
he was an Apostle. Denied him, though he had declared that should all
men forsake Him, yet he never would. It was a sad, sad sin. Remember
what led up to it. It was, first, Peter's presumption and
self-confidence. He reckoned that he could never stumble and for that
very reason he speedily fell. A haughty spirit goes before a fall. Oh,
that we might look to the roots of bitter flowers and destroy them!

If presumption is flourishing in the soil of our hearts today we shall
soon see the evil fruit which will come of it. Reliance upon our
firmness of character, depth of experience, clearness of insight, or
maturity in grace will, in the end, land us in disgraceful failure. We
must either deny ourselves, or we shall deny our Lord. If we cleave to
self-confidence, we shall not cleave to Him.

Immediately, Peter's denial was owing to cowardice. The brave Peter in
the presence of a maid was ashamed. He could not bear to be pointed out
as a follower of the Galilean. He did not know what might follow upon
it–but he saw his Lord without a friend and felt that it was a lost
cause and he did not care to avow it. Only to think that Peter, under
temporary discouragement, should play the coward! Yet cowardice treads
upon the heels of boasting–he that thinks he can fight the world will
be the first man to run away.

His sin also arose from his want of watchfulness. His Master had said
to him, "What, could you not watch with Me one hour?" And no doubt
there was more meaning in the words than appeared on the surface. The
Lord several times said to him, "Pray, that you enter not into
temptation." The words were repeated with deep impressiveness, for they
were greatly needed. But Peter had not watched–he had been warming his
hands. He did not pray–he felt too strong in himself to be driven to
special prayer. Therefore, when the gusts of temptation came, they
found Peter's boat unprepared for the storm and they drove it upon a
rock.

When Peter first denied his Master a cock crowed. Peter must have heard
that crowing or he would not have communicated the fact to the
Evangelists who recorded it. But though he heard it, he was an example
of those who have ears but hear not. One would have thought that the
warning would have touched his conscience. But it did not. And when the
cock crowed a second time, after he had committed three denials, it
might not have awakened him from his dreadful sleep if a higher
instrumentality had not been used, namely, a look from the Lord Jesus.

God keep us free from this spirit of slumber, for it is to the last
degree dangerous! Peter was under the direful influence of Satan, for
it was a night wherein the powers of darkness were specially active.
"This is your hour," said Jesus, "and the power of darkness." That same
influence which assailed the Savior unsuccessfully–for, said He, "the
prince of this world comes and has nothing in Me"–assailed Peter with
sad result. For the Evil One had something in Peter and he soon found
it out. The sparks from Satan's flint and steel fell upon our Lord as
upon water. But Peter's heart was like a tinder-box. And when the
sparks fell, they found fuel there. Oh, that we may be kept from the
assaults of Satan!

"Lead us not into temptation" is a necessary prayer. But the next
petition is specially noteworthy–"but deliver us from the Evil One." A
man never gets anything out of the devil, even if he conquers him. You
will find in combat with him that even if you win the victory, you come
off with gashes and wounds of which you will carry the scars to your
grave. "All the while," says Mr. Bunyan, while Christian was fighting
with Apollyon, "I did note that he did not so

much as give one smile." Oh no, there is nothing to smile about when
the arch-enemy is upon us. He is such a master of the cruel art of
soul-wounding, that every stroke tells.

He knows our weak places in the present. He brings to remembrance our
errors in the past and he paints in blackest colors the miseries of the
future and so seeks to destroy our faith. All his darts are fiery ones.
It takes all a man's strength and a great deal more to ward off his
cunning and cruel cuts. The worst of it is that as in Peter's case, he
casts a spell over men so that they do not fight at all but yield
themselves an easy prey. Our Savior said to Peter, "Simon, Simon,
behold, Satan has desired to have you, that he may sift you as wheat:
but I have prayed for you, that your faith fail not." Peter was as much
under the power of Satan as corn is in the hand of the man who winnows
it. He went up and down in that sieve like a helpless thing and so
passed from simple falsehood to plain denials of his Master with oaths
and curses.

I desire in this discourse to speak chiefly of Peter's restoration.
Peter was down. But he was soon up again. One writer says the story
should rather be called Peter's restoration than Peter's fall. His fall
was soon over–he was like a little child learning to walk, scarcely
down before his mother has him up again. It was not a continuance in a
sin, like that of David, who remained for months without repentance.
But it was the quick speech of a man carried away by sudden temptation
and it was followed by a speedy repentance. Upon his restoration we are
going to meditate.

It was brought about by two outward means. I like to think of the
singular combination–the crowing of the cock and a look from the Lord.
When I come to preach to you it almost makes me smile to think that God
should save a soul through me. I may find a fit image of myself in the
poor rooster. Mine is poor crowing. But as the Master's look went with
the bird's crowing, so, I trust, it will go with my feeble preaching.
The next time you also go out to try and win a soul for Jesus, say to
yourself, "I cannot do it–I cannot melt a hard, rebellious heart. But
yet the Lord may use me. And if there comes a happy conjunction of my
feeble words with my Lord's potent look, then the heart will dissolve
in streams of repentance."

Crow away, poor bird–if Jesus looks while you are crowing, you will
not crow in vain–but Peter's heart will break. The two things are
joined together and let no man put them asunder– commonplace
instrumentality and the Divine Worker. Christ has all the glory and all
the more glory because He works by humble means. I trust that there
will be, this morning, a conjunction of the weakness of the preacher
with the strength of the Holy Spirit so that stony hearts may be broken
and God glorified.

This morning, first, let us look at the Lord who looked. And secondly
let us look into the look which the Lord looked. And then, thirdly, let
us look at Peter, upon whom the Lord looked. We will be all the while
looking–may our Lord look upon us. May His Holy Spirit work with His
Holy Word!

I. First, LET US LOOK AT THE LORD, WHO LOOKED UPON PETER. Can you
picture Him up there in the hall, up yonder steps, before the high
priest and the council? Peter is down below in the area of the house
warming his hands at the fire. Can you see the Lord Jesus turning round
and fixing His eyes intently upon His erring disciple? What do you see
in that look?

I see in that look, first, that which makes me exclaim–What thoughtful
love! Jesus is bound, He is accused, He has just been smitten on the
face–but His thought is of wandering Peter. You want all your wits
about you when you are before cruel judges and are called upon to
answer false charges. You are the more tried when there is no man to
stand by you, or bear witness on your behalf–it is natural, at such an
hour–that all your thoughts should be engaged with your own cares and
sorrows. It would have been no reproach had the thoughts of our Lord
been concentrated on His personal sufferings. And all the less so
because these were for the sake of others.

But our blessed Master is thinking of Peter and His heart is going out
towards His unworthy disciple. That same influence which made His heart
drive out its store of blood through every pore of His body in the
bloody sweat now acted upon His soul and drove His thoughts outward
towards that member of His mystical body which was most in danger.
Peter was thought of when the Redeemer was standing to be mocked and
reviled. Blessed be His dear name, Jesus always has an eye for His
people, whether He is in His shame or in His Glory.

Jesus always has an eye for those for whom He shed His blood. Though
now He reigns in Glory, He still looks steadily upon His own–His
delight is in them and His care is over them. There was not a particle
of selfishness about our Savior. "He saved others; Himself He could not
save." He looked to others but He never looked to Himself. I see, then,
in our Lord's looking upon Peter, a wondrously thoughtful love.

I exclaim, next, What a boundless condescension! If our Lord's eyes had
wandered that day upon "that other disciple" that was known to the high
priest, or if He had even looked upon some of the servants of the
house, we should not have been so astonished. But when Jesus turns, it
is to look upon Peter, the man from whom we should naturally have
turned away our faces, after his wretched conduct. He had acted most
shamefully and cruelly and yet the Master's eyes sought him out in
boundless pity! If there is a man here who feels himself to be near
akin to the devil, I pray the Lord to look first at him.

If you feel as if you have sinned yourself out of the pale of humanity
by having cast off all good things and by having denied the Lord that
bought you, yet still consider the amazing mercy of the Lord. If you
are one of His, His pitying eyes will find you out. For even now it
follows you as it did Hagar, when she cried, "God see me." But oh, the
compassion of that look! When first I understood that the Lord looked
on me with love in the midst of my sin, it did seem so wonderful! He
whom the heavens adore, before whose sight the whole universe is
stretched out as on a map, yet passes by all the glories of Heaven that
He may fix His tender gaze upon a wandering sheep and may in great
mercy bring it back again to the fold. For the Lord of Glory to look
upon a disciple who denies Him is boundless condescension!

But then, again, what tender wisdom do I see here! "The Lord turned and
looked upon Peter." He knew best what to do–He did not speak to him
but looked upon him. He had spoken to Peter before and that voice had
called him to be a fisher of men. He had given Peter His hand before
and saved him from a watery grave when he was beginning to sink. But
this time He gives him neither His voice nor His hand but that which
was equally effectual and intensely suitable–He lent him His
eyes–"The Lord looked upon Peter."

How wisely does Christ always choose the way of expressing His
affection and working our good! If He had spoken to Peter, the mob
would have assailed him, or at least the ribald crowd would have
remarked upon the sorrow of the Master and the treachery of the
disciple–our gracious Lord will never needlessly expose the faults of
His chosen. Possibly no words could have expressed all that was thrown
into that look of compassion. Why, Brethren, a volume as big as a Bible
is contained within that look of Jesus.

I defy all the tongues and all the pens in the world to tell us all
that our Divine Lord meant by that look. Our Savior employed the most
prudent, the most comprehensive, the most useful method of speaking to
the heart of His erring follower. He looked volumes into him. His
glance was a Divine hieroglyphic full of unutterable meanings which it
conveyed in a more clear and vivid way than words could have done.

As I think of that look again, I am compelled to cry out–What Divine
power is here! Why, dear Friends, this look worked wonders. I sometimes
preach with all my soul to Peter and, alas–he likes my sermon and
forgets it. I have known Peter read a good book full of most powerful
pleading and when he has read it through, he has shut it up and gone to
sleep. I remember my Peter when he lost his wife and one would have
thought it would have touched him and it did–with some natural
feeling. Yet he did not return to the Lord, whom he had forsaken but
continued in his backsliding.

See, then, how our Lord can do with a look what we cannot do with a
sermon! What the most powerful writer cannot do with hundreds of pages
and what affliction cannot do with even its heaviest stroke. The Lord
looked and Peter wept bitterly. I cannot help thinking with Isaac
Williams that there is a majestic simplicity in the expressions here
used–"The Lord turned and looked upon Peter. And Peter went out and
wept bitterly." The passage reminds us of that first of Genesis–"And
God said, Let there be light: and there was light."

As the Lord looked unto the host of the Egyptians and troubled the
Egyptians, so did He now look into Peter's heart and his thoughts
troubled him. Oh, the power of the Lord Christ! If there was this power
about Him when He was bound before His accusers, what is His power now
that He is able to save unto the uttermost them that come unto God by
Him, seeing He ever lives to make intercession for them? In that look
there was Divinity. The Son of God looked upon Peter–the text does not
use the name Jesus but it expressly says, "The Lord turned and looked
upon Peter." That Divine look did the deed.

Let me beg you to note what sacred teaching is here. The teaching is of
practical value and should be at once carried out by the followers of
Jesus. You, dear Friend, are a Christian man or a Christian woman. You
have been kept by Divine Grace from anything like disgraceful sin.
Thank God it is so. I dare say if you look within you will find much to
be ashamed of. But yet you have been kept from presumptuous and open
sins. Alas, one who was once a friend of yours has disgraced
himself–he was a little while ago a member of the Church but he has
shamefully turned aside. You cannot excuse his sin–on the contrary,
you are forced to feel great indignation against his folly, his
untruthfulness, his wickedness.

He has caused the enemies of the Lord to blaspheme and has done awful
mischief to the cause of righteousness. Now I know what will be
suggested to you. You will be inclined to cut his acquaintance, to
disown him altogether and scarcely to look at him if you meet him in
the street. This is the manner of men–but not the manner of Jesus. I
charge you, act not in so un-Christlike a manner. The Lord turned and
looked on Peter–will not His servants look on him? You are not perfect
like your Lord. You are only a poor sinful creature like your fallen
Brother. What? Are you too proud to look at the fallen one? Will you
not give him a helping hand? Will you not try to bring him back?

The worst thing you can do with a backslider is to let him keep on
sliding back. Your duty should be your pleasure and your duty is to
"restore such a one in the spirit of meekness, remembering yourself
also, lest you also be tempted." O Brothers and Sisters, it is a very
little thing that has kept some of us from turning aside unto folly.
One grain more and the scale would have turned in favor of a great
fall. Our steps have well-near slipped. When we are proud of our sure
standing, the Lord may well be angry with us for our vanity and He may
justly say, "How can I endure this pride? I have taken great care of
this man and watched over him to keep him out of sin and now he takes
the credit of it all and plays the great man and fancies that he will
be defiled if he associates with My poor wandering children."

Which, do you think, is worse in God's sight–the sudden fall into sin,
or the long-continued pride? Which boasts itself in the presence of the
Lord and looks contemptuously upon erring ones? It is not my office to
become a measurer of sins. But I would earnestly enforce this plain
duty–since our own Lord and Master looked on backsliding Peter, let us
seek out our wandering Brethren.

One more lesson–observe what heavenly comfort is here–"The Lord
turned and looked upon Peter." Yes, Jesus looks upon sinners, still.
The doctrine of God's omniscience is far oftener set forth in a hard
way than in a cheering way. Have you ever heard a sermon from, "You God
see me," of which the essence was–therefore tremble and be afraid?
That is hardly fair to the text. For when Hagar cried, "You God see
me," it was because the Lord had interposed to help her when she had
fled from her mistress. It was comfort to her that there she also had
looked after Him that had looked upon her.

There is a dark side to "You God see me." But it is not half so dark as
it would be if God did not see us. It is true, O Sinner, that God has
seen your sin and all the aggravations of it. But it is also true that
as He sees your ruin, your misery, your sadness, He has compassion on
you. He sees your sin that He may remove it and make you clean in His
sight. As the Lord looked upon Peter, so He looks upon you. He has not
turned His back on you. He has not averted the gaze of His pity. He
sees to the bottom of your heart and reads all your thoughts. You have
not to go about to find God–He is looking upon you. "He is not far
from everyone of us." He is within eyesight. You are to look to Him.
And if you do, your eyes will meet His eyes, for already He looks upon
you.

I think we have gathered much from this brief look at the Lord who
looked upon Peter. I doubt not that had we more time and more insight,
we should see greater things than these.

II. Now let us go on to the second point and see whether we cannot
gather still more instruction. LET US LOOK INTO THE LOOK WHICH THE LORD
GAVE TO PETER. Help us again, most gracious Spirit!

That look was, first of all, a marvelous refreshment to Peter's memory.
"The Lord turned and looked upon Peter." What a sight it must have been
for Peter! Our dear Master's face was that night all red from the
bloody sweat. He must have appeared emaciated in body. His eyes weary
with want of sleep and His whole countenance the vision of grief. If
ever a picture of the Man of Sorrows could have been drawn, it should
have been taken at that moment when the Lord turned and looked upon
Peter.

By torchlight and the flickering flame of the fire in the court of the
hall of Caiaphas, Peter saw a vision which would never fade from his
mind. He saw the Man whom he loved as he had never seen Him before.
This was He who called him, when he was fishing, to become a fisher of
men. This was He who bade him spread the net and caused him to take an
incredible quantity of fishes, insomuch that the boat began to sink and
he cried out, "Depart from me. For I am a sinful man, O Lord."

This was He who had made him walk on the water and at other times had
rebuked the winds and raised the dead. This was He with whom Peter had
been upon the Mount of Transfiguration! Truly there was a wonderful
change from the glistening whiteness of the Mount to the ghastliness of
that sad hour! Though the lines of that reverend face were stained with
blood, yet Peter could tell that it was the same Lord with whom he had
enjoyed three years of intimate companionship and tender unveiling. All
this must, in a moment, have flashed upon poor Peter's mind. And I do
not wonder that in the remembrance of it all he went out and wept
bitterly.

He did love His Lord. His denial was not of the heart but of the
tongue. And, therefore, as all the grounds of his faith came before his
mind anew, his heart was broken into a thousand pieces with grief that
he should have been false to such a

Friend. Yes, that look awoke a thousand slumbering memories and all
these called upon the sincere heart of Peter to repent of its
ungenerous weakness.

Next, that turning of the Master was a special reminder of His warning
words. Jesus did not say it in words but He did more than say it by His
look. "Ah, Peter! Did not I tell you it would be so? You said, 'Though
all men shall be offended because of You, yet will I never be
offended.' Did I not tell you that before cock-crowing you would deny
Me thrice?" No rebuke was uttered. And yet the tender eye of the Lord
had revealed to Peter his own extreme folly and his Master's superior
wisdom. Now he saw his own character and perceived his Lord's
discernment.

It was a prophecy and like all other prophecies, it was understood
after it was fulfilled. We read that, "Peter remembered the word of the
Lord, how He said unto him, Before the cock crowed, you shall deny Me
thrice." It is clear, then, that our Lord's look was a special reminder
of His former words–it stirred up Peter's mind by way of remembrance
and made him see how foolish he had been and how inexcusable was his
fault.

Surely it was, also, a moving appeal to Peter's heart. I bid you notice
just now, in the reading of the chapter, that this story of Peter is
singularly interwoven into the narrative of our Savior's passion–it is
so interwoven because it constitutes an essential part of that passion.
We must not regard it as an accidental incident. It was part and parcel
of that grief which He had to bear when He stood in our place. It was
written of old, "Smite the Shepherd and the sheep shall be scattered."
And this scattering of the sheep, of which Peter was a notable
instance, was one of the bitter ingredients of our Redeemer's mental
anguish.

"Lover and friend have You put far from Me," is His complaint in the
Psalm. When the Savior showed Himself to Peter with all those lines of
grief upon His face, He seemed to say to him, "Can you deny Me now? I
am bound for you and do you deny Me? I stand here to be adjudged to
death for you and do you deny Me? Now is the hour of My agony and do
you deny Me?" The Lord could not have looked at Peter without creating
strong emotions in the breast of the weak disciple who now found
himself in so sad a plight. That look touched very tender cords. There
was no need for a single word of appeal–that look sufficed to stir the
deepest part of Peter's nature.

What do you think that look chiefly said? My thought about it, as I
turned it over, was this–when the Lord looked upon Peter, though He
did refresh his memory and make an appeal to his conscience, yet there
was still more evident a glorious manifestation of love. If I may be
permitted humbly and reverently to read what was written on my Master's
face, I think it was this–"And yet I love you, Peter, I love you
still! You have denied Me but I look upon you still as Mine. I cannot
give you up. I have loved you with an everlasting love and
notwithstanding all your ill-conduct towards Me, I am looking for you
and expecting to receive you. I have not turned My back on you.

"Behold, I look towards you with tender regard, foreseeing that you
will yet serve Me and prove the truth of your devotion to Me. Despair
not, O Peter, for I will receive you again and you shall glorify Me."
Judging what would break my heart the quickest if I had thus denied my
Master, it seems to me that I should be most affected by His saying to
me, "And yet, despite your sin, I love you still." Love is the great
heartbreaker. Immutable love is that Divine hammer which breaks the
rock in pieces. Though a man should have sinned himself into great
hardness of heart, yet almighty love can soften him. Who can resist the
charms of Divine Grace unchangeable?

Sharper than a sword is a look of love–more fierce than coals of
juniper are the flames of love. One said, the other day, speaking of a
person who has gone awfully astray after having been a preacher of the
Word, "If I did not believe in the doctrine of unchanging love I do not
think I dare pray for him. But since I believe that God will bring him
back again, I pray with humble confidence that he will be restored."
That which is an encouragement to prayer for others will be a help
towards our return if we have gone astray. I love to believe that my
Lord will bring His wanderers back.

O you who are anxious to return to Him, let this cheer you–"Yet does
He devise means that His banished be not expelled from Him." This
doctrine wins men back. There are wicked men who turn it into an
argument for continuing in sin. But their damnation is just. True men
will see, in the measureless and unchanging love of Christ, a reason
which will put wings to their feet when they hasten back to Him from
whom they have gone astray.

Again–this look penetrated Peter's inmost heart. It is not every look
that we receive that goes very deep. I look with eyes of deep affection
at men from this pulpit and I perceive that they know my meaning. But
they soon shake it off. But our Savior has an eye to which the joints
and marrow are visible. He looks into the secret chambers of the soul.
For His look is a sunbeam and bears its own light with it, lighting up
the dark places of our nature by its own radiance. Peter could not help
feeling, for he was pricked in the heart by the arrow of Christ's
glance.

How many persons are affected by religion only in the head! It does not
affect their heart and life. I am grieved when I hear of some of you
who are regular hearers and take pleasure in my preaching and yet,
after many years, you are not a bit better. You have had spasms of
improvement but they have ended in nothing. You go back to the mire
after you have been washed. You are a hearer of the Gospel and yet a
drunkard. Your voice is heard in a Psalm but it may also be heard in an
oath. It is a shocking thing. But I have done my best. I can preach to
your ears but I cannot look into your hearts. Oh, that my Lord would
give such a glance at you this morning as should impart light into you
and cause you to see yourself and to see Him and then the tears would
fill your eyes!

One fact must not escape our notice–our Lord's look at Peter was a
revival of all Peter's looking unto Jesus. The Lord's look upon Peter
took effect because Peter was looking to the Lord. Do you catch it? If
the Lord had turned and looked on Peter and Peter's back had been
turned on the Lord, that look would not have reached Peter, nor
affected him. The eyes met to produce the desired result.
Notwithstanding all Peter's wanderings, he was anxious about his Lord
and therefore looked to see what was done with Him. Even while he
warmed his hands at the fire, he kept looking into the inner hall. His
eyes were constantly looking in the direction of the Lord Jesus.

While he wandered about among the maids and male servants, talking to
them, fool that he was–yet still he would perpetually steal a glance
that way to see how it fared with the Man he loved. He had not given up
the habit of looking to his Lord. If he had not still, in a measure,
looked to his Master, how would the look of Jesus have been observed by
him? His eyes must look through your eyes to get to your heart. The
remainders of faith are the sparks among the ashes of piety and the
Lord blows on these to raise a fire. If there is a poor soul here that,
despite his backsliding, can yet feel, "I am trusting in Jesus and if I
perish, I will perish there," there is hope for that soul.

If you have given up the outward forms of religion it is a grievous
fault–but if you still inwardly look to the Crucified, there is
something in you to work upon. There is an eye which can receive the
look of Jesus. It is through the eyes that look to Jesus, that Jesus
looks and lets fresh light and hope into the soul. Oh that you who have
this lingering faith in the Lord may now receive a look from Him which
shall work in you a bitter, salutary, saving repentance–without which
you can never be restored!

This look was altogether between the Lord and Peter. Nobody knew that
the Lord looked on Peter, except Peter and his Lord. That Divine Grace
which saves a soul is not a noisy thing–neither is it visible to any
but the receiver. This morning, if the Grace of God comes to anyone of
you in power, it will be unperceived by those who sit on either side of
you in the pew– they will hear the same words but of the Divine
operation which accompanies them they will know nothing–the eyes of
the Lord will not speak to them as it is speaking to the awakened one.
Do you know anything of the secret love-look of the Lord Jesus?

The whole process may not have occupied more than a second of time.
"The Lord turned and looked on Peter." It took less time to do than it
takes to tell. Yet in that instant an endless work was done. How soon
can Jesus change the heart! "He spoke and it was done"–I venture to
alter that verse and say, "He looked and it was done." Lord, look on
sinful Peter now! Work a miracle with your eyes! Even here, let some
sinner look to You because You have looked on him.

III. Now I must go to my third point–LET US LOOK AT PETER AFTER THE
LORD HAD LOOKED AT HIM.

What is Peter doing? When the Lord looked on Peter the first thing
Peter did was to feel awakened. Peter's mind had been sleeping. The
charcoal fire had not done him much good, the fumes of it are evil. The
dust of Satan's sieve had got into his eyes. He was confused with very
sorrow for his dear Master, whom he truly loved. Peter was hardly Peter
that night. I think I had better say, Peter was too much Peter, and his
mind had more of Peter's stone in it, than of Christ's flesh.

He had forgotten that he was an Apostle. He had forgotten that which he
had declared when the Lord said to him, "Blessed are you, Simon
Bar-Jona: for flesh and blood have not revealed this unto you." Again,
I remind you how significantly it is written, "The Lord turned and
looked upon Peter." For it hints that Peter now saw his Lord's Deity
through the veil of His humiliation and anguish. He had forgotten his
Lord's Deity and thus he had, in thought, denied his Lord. He was off
the lines and was in a sleepy state. He was what Paul calls
"bewitched," and under the influence of a spiritual soporific,
administered by Satan. The Lord's look brought him to his better self
and aroused all the spiritual life which had been dormant in
him–"Peter remembered"–and by this remembrance he was restored.

The next effect was, it took away all Peter's foolhardiness. Peter had
made his way into the high priest's hall but now he made his way out of
it. He had not felt in any danger, though in the worst of company. What
did he care for the girl that kept the door? Surely he was too much of
a man to mind her remarks. What did he care for the men that were round
the fire? They were rough fellows but he had been a fisherman and quite
able to cope with the priest's bailiffs. But now the brag is gone out

of him. No sooner had Jesus looked upon him than Peter declined all
further risks. Now he shows the better part of valor and with great
discretion quits the dangerous society of the high priest's palace.

Revival of Divine Grace in the heart is the death of presumption. The
man who runs risks with his soul is not in a right state of mind.
Perhaps the Savior's glance conveyed a hint to Peter that he had no
business where he was. It may have seemed to say to him, "You had
better be gone from these surroundings." At any rate, that was the
effect it produced. That palace in which the Lord fared so badly could
not be a fit place for a disciple. To be warming himself at the fire
was quite inconsistent for Peter while Jesus was being mocked by His
enemies. A sight of the Lord Jesus makes many things seem incongruous
which else might appear right enough. All Peter's daring vanished. He
turned his back on maids and men and went out into the darkness of the
night.

We do not hear of his coming near the Cross–in fact, we hear no more
of him till the resurrection morning–for Peter was sensible enough to
feel that he could not trust himself any more. He placed himself in the
background till his Lord summoned him to the front. I wish that some
religious professors whose lives have been questionable had grace
enough to do the same. When I see a man who has sinned grievously
pushing himself speedily to the front, I cannot believe that he has a
due sense of the evil he has worked, or of his own unfitness to be in
the place of peril.

Above all, shun the place where you have fallen. Do not linger in it
for a moment. Go out, even though you leave the comfortable fire behind
you. Better be in the cold than stay where your soul is in danger. Till
Peter had received from the Lord's own mouth abundant assurance of his
restoration to his office by the threefold charge to feed the sheep and
lambs, we do not find him again in the forefront.

That look of Christ severed Peter from the crowd. He was no longer
among the fellows around the fire. He had not another word to say to
them–he quit their company in haste. It is well for Believers to feel
that they are not of the world! They should flee out of Sodom. The Lord
has severed us from the multitude by His Divine choice and the
separation should be our choice.

Oh, that the arrows of the great Lord would this morning pierce some
soul even as a huntsman wounds a stag! Oh, that the wounded soul, like
Peter, would seek solitude! The stag seeks the thicket to bleed and die
alone. But the Lord will come in secret to the wounded heart and draw
out the arrow. Alone is the place for a penitent. Out in the darkness
is far better for you than around the fire where coarse jokes are
bandied while Christ is mocked. There must be confession and weeping
alone. If Christ has looked upon you, you must get away from the men of
the world and indeed from all others. The solitude of your chamber will
suit you best.

That look of Christ also opened the sluices of Peter's heart–he went
out and wept bitterly. There was gall in the tears he wept, for they
were the washings of his bitter sorrow. Dear Friends, if we have sinned
with Peter, God grant us grace to weep with Peter. Many will think of
Peter's wandering who forget Peter's weeping. Sin, even though it is
forgiven, is a bitter thing. Even though Christ may look away your
despair, He will not look away your penitence. "He went out and wept
bitterly." Oh, how he chided himself! "How could I have acted so!" How
he smote his breast, and sighed, "How can I ever look up? Yet is He
very precious. That look forgave me. But I can never forgive myself."

He remembered it all his life and could never hear a cock crow without
feeling the water in his eyes. Yet I want you to notice that that look
of Christ gave him relief. It is a good thing to be able to weep. Those
who cannot weep are the people that suffer most. A pent-up sorrow is a
terrible sorrow. The Lord touched a secret spring and made Peter's
grief flow out in floods. And that must have greatly eased him. I have
frequently heard people say, "I had a good cry, and after that, I was
able to bear it." People die of bursting hearts when no tears relieve
them. I thank God for Peter, that he could weep bitterly, for thus the
Holy Spirit came to him with comfort.

O Master, look on some poor dry heart here–some poor heart that cannot
feel its sinfulness but would if it could–and give it feeling! Look on
the heart which cannot repent, that is crying, "I would, but cannot
feel contrition." Lord, You did make the rock yield water at the
smiting of the rod–use Your poor stick of a servant this morning to
smite the rocky heart and let the waters of repentance flow out.

And now, to conclude, it made Peter as long as he lived, ashamed to be
ashamed. Peter was never ashamed after this. Who was it that stood up
at Pentecost and preached? Was it not Peter? Was he not always foremost
in testifying to his Lord and Master? I trust that if any of us have
been falling back and especially if we have wandered into sin, we may
get such a restoration from the Lord, Himself, that we may become
better Christians ever afterwards. I do not want you to break a bone, I
pray God you never may. But if you ever do, may the heavenly Surgeon so
set it that it may become thicker and stronger than before.

Courage was the bone in Peter which snapped. But when it was set, it
became the strongest bone in his nature and never broke again. When the
Lord sets the bones of His people they never break again–He does His
work effectually. The man who has erred by anger becomes meek and
gentle. The man who has erred by drink quits the deadly cup and loathes
it. The man who has sinned by shame becomes the bravest of the company.

O Lord Jesus, I have tried to preach YOU this morning, but I cannot
look with Your eyes. You must look on erring ones Yourself. Look,
Savior! Look, Sinner! "There is life in a look AT the crucified One,"
because there is life in a look FROM the crucified One. May Jesus look
and by His Grace may the sinner look, too! Amen.