Luke 22:54

How To Follow

Peter followed afar off. Luke 22:54.

Who is your favorite apostle? Most people have one. A great many choose the apostle John. They say that John was the apostle who was most like Jesus Himself. He followed his great Master most closely. He was the apostle of love, and he was the apostle whom Jesus loved best.

Now, to give away a secret, I have always had a great weakness for the apostle Peter. Poor Peter! He was so well-meaning and so blundering. He was always putting his foot in it. He was always getting into difficulties because of his warm heart and his impulsive tongue. And he was always so sorry when he had done wrong. I think if John was first in Christ's heart, Peter must have been a good second.

I said that, of the disciples, John followed Christ most closely. That is true in more senses than one. When we speak of one person following another, we sometimes mean that he is literally following a few paces behind on the street, but just as often we mean that the person we speak of admires the other and tries to copy him and imitate him in so far as he can.

Today I want to tell you how following at a distance, in the literal sense of the word, caused the apostle Peter to get into terrible trouble.

You remember the crowd of Jews and Roman soldiers who burst into the garden of Gethsemane to arrest Jesus. You remember how, when they led Him away prisoner to the high priest's house, all the scared and horrified disciples fled all except two. One, whose name we are not told, followed Christ closely, and because he was known to the high priest got admission to the high priest's palace. That disciple is supposed to have been the apostle John. The other followed afar off. It was the apostle Peter. And just because he followed at a safe distance he got into trouble. If Peter had been taken prisoner along with Christ he would have been bold as a lion, but because he got separated from his Master he committed a sin which he regretted all the rest of his days. He turned coward and denied that he knew Christ at all.

It happened like this. Christ was taken into the high priest's house for examination. This house, like many Eastern houses of today, was built round four sides of a courtyard. The courtyard was open to the sky and it was entered by an archway in one of the walls. In the archway was a gate which was opened and closed by a gate keeper. John, who had entered the courtyard with Christ, noticed Peter hanging around outside the archway, and asked the gate keeper to let him in. It was a chilly night in April, a fire had been lit in the center of the court, and Peter, who was shivering from both cold and misery, drew near to warm his hands at the glow. Round the fire were gathered some of the men who had helped to arrest Jesus. They took no special notice of Peter, but, as the flames leapt up, the blaze shone on Peter's face. The gate keeper who had let him enter, and who was going off duty, happened to pass at that moment. She paused and pointed to Peter. “That man is one of the prisoner's followers!” said she. In a moment of fear, came Peter's answer, short and quick, “Woman, I know him not.”

Sick with horror at his denial, the ashamed apostle crept into the dark shadow of the archway. But even there he was not safe. The new gate keeper and a friend were talking together over the arrest, and the friend looked sharply at Peter lurking in the shadow. “Surely,” said he, “you are one of the prisoner's disciples.” And again Peter said, almost without thinking, “Man, I am not.”

Once more he felt sick with shame, and once more he stepped away from the danger spot. Where could he go? It was growing chillier as morning drew near, and with a kind of reckless despairing what-does-it-matter-now-what-happens feeling the miserable apostle joined himself once more to the crowd round the fire. He plunged boldly into the conversation, ready to brazen out the whole thing; but he forgot his strong north-country accent, he forgot that his was a face easily remembered, and soon the men were taunting him and badgering him. “Why, of course you were with Him!” cried one; “I saw you with Him in the garden,” said another. And Peter, mad with fear and misery and despair all mixed together, answered with an oath, “I tell you I know not the man.”

His oath was still ringing through the courtyard when Christ, who was being led away from His examination before the high priest, passed the group at the fire. He heard Peter's oath, He heard his words, and He turned and looked at him. And suddenly Peter realized that the rooster was crowing, and that Christ had prophesied the night before that ere the rooster crew twice Peter would deny Him thrice. And that gentle, sad, reminding look from Jesus broke Peter's heart, and he went out and wept bitterly.

That is the story of Peter's denial, boys and girls. And as I said before, it all arose from Peter's following afar off.

It is a dangerous thing to follow afar off. One of the chaplains who was at the front during World War I tells in one of his books how the men, when they went into the trenches at night, had to keep in touch with each other and follow the guide closely lest they should lose their way. One night the leading man of a half-battalion lost touch with the man in front of him. As a result he took the wrong turning and the rest of the battalion followed in platoons. Round another turning they went and round another, till, without knowing it, they worked round in a circle to where they had started. The first man caught the sound of the footsteps of the last man and round again they sped. And it was a full hour till that half-battalion discovered that, like a playful kitten, it had been chasing its own tail.

Something like that happens to those who lose touch with Christ. If they do not openly deny their Master like Peter, they spend their lives to no purpose. They never do the splendid work they might, because they are not in touch with Christ. At best they are following afar off.

Shall I tell you how we ought to follow Christ if we want to be truly His disciples? Let me tell you by a story.

In a certain Scottish village there lived a quaint little girl who, when she went out with her mother, used to walk, not side by side with her, but immediately behind. Later people began to notice that the little girl always tried to plant her feet exactly in the footprints of her mother. Often it meant a long step for her short legs, but she managed it somehow. At last, one day, someone who understood little girls and how to talk to them, asked her why she did it. She hung down her head and whispered shyly, “Because I love her.”

Dear children, that is the whole secret of following closely and following faithfully. Love Christ well. If you love Him well, and keep close by Him, no evil can harm you, and, God helping you, you will be spared the temptation that came to Peter because he followed afar off.