To Encourage You

Luke 22:61 “And the Lord turned and looked at Peter.”

In its context, the verse above is one of the most unsettling in all the Bible.  It’s taken from the account of Peter’s denial of Jesus.  It was during what has come to be known as “The Last Supper” in Luke 22 that Peter had pledged to Jesus, “Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death.” To this Jesus replied “I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day, until you deny three times that you know me.” 

So what happened?  Exactly what Jesus said would happen.  Three times Peter was identified as a follower of Jesus by those standing nearby, and three times Peter denied that he even knew Him. He was terrified of being identified as a follower of this One who was being condemned to die.  It was immediately after Peter denied Jesus the third time that we are told that Jesus turned and looked at him. “And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.”  

It’s a sad account.  Can you imagine Peter’s thoughts as he saw Jesus looking at him at that moment? He surely despised himself.  He was surely grief-stricken at his sin.  And he was surely guilt-ridden at how he had just personally turned against his greatest Friend.  

One of my thoughts as I think about this story is that I surely wouldn’t have wanted to be Peter at that moment.  I wouldn’t have wanted to see that look from someone of Whom I had earlier said, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16).  But my thought that follows is how I, just like Peter, have also confessed that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of the living God. In fact, anyone who calls himself or herself a Christian has done so.  But, have I also ever followed Peter’s example by denying the one I’ve called my Lord?  Although I’ve called Jesus my Savior and confessed my love for Him with my lips, have I ever failed in acting like that was indeed not true. I don’t know about you, but surely, I have.  But then this thought: Do I really think that this God who sees every sparrow that falls and knows the number of hairs that are on my head, wasn’t looking at me when I did this?  Do I think I’ve ever sinned against Him yet been outside his gaze? 

Oh, that I would consider the words in the verse above and realize that they are just as true for me as they were for Peter. Oh, that I would have eyes to see that the One Who sees everything sees me every moment of every day.  And oh, that I might realize that every single time I sin, every time I deny him by my actions, every time my walk doesn’t match my talk with respect to my confessed relationship to Him, I’m doing it in the full view of His gaze, for “no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account” (Hebrews 4:13).  

In one sense there is great comfort in knowing that our Lord is with us every moment of every day. There’s comfort in knowing that He’s aware of us, that He thinks about us, that He knows our every need.  On the other hand, there should be a great sensitivity to the fact that He sees everything, including everything done in secret, whether it be good or bad. And so, when we sin as believers, we should recognize that it is a very personal thing between our Lord and us.  

So do you wonder what impact Jesus’ look had on Peter’s life? Can you imagine the feelings that his denial drove deep into his soul when he saw Jesus’ eyes? Surely, he never forgot this. Surely it impacted his life greatly from that moment on. May the truth that Jesus also sees us impact us very deeply as well.  We don’t sin in a vacuum. As Christians, we can never just “do our own thing.” No, now everything we do is part and parcel of a great love relationship – one in which the Creator of the Universe is, incredibly, all the time thinking about us as Psalm 139 so clearly says.  May we have the response of thinking even in small measure in the same way toward Him. May His gaze be something we rejoice in, rather than something we’d rather not see.