Follow Me
Summary
Peter is a fisherman, an ordinary man who walked on water and then sank, who declared he would never deny Jesus and then did it three times before sunrise. Working through snapshots of Peter's life across the gospels, Dominic Jackson traces the story of someone who keeps failing and keeps getting restored. From the beach where Jesus first calls him to the charcoal fire where Jesus finds him after the resurrection, it turns out to be less a story about Peter's faith and more about what Jesus does with people who have already counted themselves out.
Questions for reflection
Peter is constantly overcompensating — talking too much, trying to prove himself, acting before thinking. Where do you recognize that pattern in yourself?
Dominic suggests that when Peter denied Jesus, he was likely already planning his exit — assuming Jesus wouldn't want him back. Have you ever counted yourself out of God's story because of a failure? What did that look like?
The angel at the tomb tells the women to go tell the disciples — and Peter specifically. Why do you think that detail matters? What does it say about how Jesus handles people who have let him down?
Jesus recreates the scene of Peter's denial — the charcoal fire — and asks him three times if he loves him. What does that kind of intentional restoration tell you about how Jesus pursues people?
Dominic says we are not defined by our own wounds but by the scars of Jesus. What would it look like for you to actually live from that identity this week?
Peter's biggest flaws — his loudmouth passion and his hotheadedness — end up being exactly what God uses in the early church. Is there a weakness or struggle in your own life that God might be in the process of redeeming for something?
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Have you ever known someone who is kind of their own worst enemy? Someone who puts their foot in their mouth over and over. Someone who, looking at their life from a distance, seems like they can't catch a break — but up close, you realize they're the one putting themselves in that position. Heart of gold. Little thick-headed. Maybe I'm not describing a friend. Maybe I'm describing you.
If so, you're not alone. And I also think this is a pretty good description of a guy named Peter.
Peter is my favorite of all the disciples, because he reminds me a lot of myself. He's hotheaded. He comes from a blue-collar working family. He's always the first to open his mouth and embarrass himself — and yet has absolutely no self-awareness to stop doing it. He's always the first to talk, always asking the wrong questions, and regularly telling Jesus what Jesus needs to do, which never goes well for him.
Also like me: he has walked away from Jesus in the past. He's screwed up, made mistakes. And yet God has used him for some incredible things — not because of Peter, but because of the power and love of God.
Anytime I'm feeling bad about myself, I open the gospels to Peter. It makes me feel a little less alone.
Today we're going to take a detour from our road-to-the-cross series and follow the story of Peter from the beginning — all the way through to our text. A snapshot of a life. Before we do that, let's pray.
[Prayer]
Just a heads up: if you are a perfect, godly, put-together kind of Christian, this message might not have much for you. But for the rest of us — I think there's something here.
The Beach: Where It Begins
Matthew 4:18 — As Jesus was walking beside the Sea of Galilee, he saw two brothers, Simon called Peter and his brother Andrew. They were casting a net into the lake, for they were fishermen. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will send you out to fish for people."
I've heard this passage preached many times as an example of radical faith — leave your job, leave your money, leave your family, leave your comfort zone, and do exactly what Peter did. And yes, if Jesus calls us somewhere, we should go. But I think we might be giving Peter a bit too much credit here.
Let me nerd out for a minute on Jewish culture.
In first-century Judaism, the highest calling a person could have was to become a rabbi. These were the celebrities of the day. And the path began early.
On the first day of Hebrew school — around age six — a child would walk in, find a seat, and the rabbi would come over and place a glob of honey on their finger. They would hold it there until they memorized their first scripture verse. As soon as they could recite it back, they got to eat the honey. In a culture where most kids had never actually tasted honey, this was extraordinary. Their first association with Scripture was sweetness, not homework or punishment. By the end of class, the rabbi would cover each desk in honey and say, eat it all — and as the kids went to town, he would pray: "May the word of the Lord be as sweet to you as this honey."
This was called Bet Sefer, and from ages six to ten, children would memorize the entire Torah — the first five books of Scripture. No Nickelodeon. No YouTube. Just memorization.
Next came Bet Talmud. Out of a class of thirty or so, four or five of the best students would be selected. Everyone else went home to work the family business. The chosen few — ages ten to thirteen or fourteen — would go on to memorize the rest of the Hebrew scriptures. What we call the Old Testament. All of it.
And then for just a handful of those — the Yale and Harvard of this world — came Bet Midrash. You would approach a rabbi with a gift, ask to be mentored, and he would interview you — hard. Because if you failed, it was a public embarrassment. Many were turned away.
Here's what this means for Peter.
Peter was a fisherman. That means he was also a Hebrew school dropout. He did not have what it took. He was working the family business on a boat.
So when Rabbi Jesus walked up to Peter on that beach and said, follow me — this was the greatest thing that had ever happened in Peter's life. A Hebrew school dropout, working his dad's fishing business, and the greatest rabbi of his time looked at him and said: you're worth investing in.
Was it faithful for Peter to drop his net and follow? Sure. In the same way it would be faithful to drop your shift at the copy shop if Christopher Nolan walked in and offered you a job. It was also kind of a no-brainer.
And so begins the apprenticeship.
The Highlights — and the Lowlights
Over the years, Jesus uses Peter for some incredible things. But Peter also manages to get in the way of a lot of those incredible things. Here are a few highlights.
The feeding of the five thousand. Peter is right there in the middle of it, handing out bread after Jesus miraculously multiplies a kid's lunch. The next day, Peter asks Jesus for a sign — basically asking him to prove himself. Jesus essentially says: I did that twelve hours ago. What else do you want?
Walking on water. Peter sees Jesus walking on the water and asks to come out. Jesus says come. Peter steps out of the boat and actually walks on water — for a moment. Then he notices the wind, panics, and starts to sink. Jesus catches him. "You of little faith. Why did you doubt?" I don't think Peter was doubting Jesus in that moment. I think he was doubting himself. And that's a different kind of sinking.
Caesarea Philippi. Jesus takes the disciples to the most notorious city in the region — a place Jewish people believed contained a literal gate to hell, a city of pagan worship and perversion. And that's where Jesus chooses to announce his plan for the church. Before he does, he asks: "Who do people say I am?" Peter lists the theories. Then Jesus asks, "Who do you say I am?" And Peter — finally — gets one right: "You are the Messiah, the Son of the living God." Jesus says, on this confession I will build my church, and not even the gates of hell will come against it. Peter's finest moment.
Five seconds later, Jesus begins to explain what lies ahead — arrest, trial, death, resurrection. And Peter, whose head was just barely getting too big, opens his mouth and starts rebuking Jesus. Which doesn't go well.
The transfiguration. Jesus takes Peter, James, and John up a mountain. They witness Jesus transfigured before them — his face shining like the sun, his clothes white as light — and Moses and Elijah appear and begin speaking with him. Three of the most significant figures in all of human history, standing together on a mountaintop. And what does Peter do? He decides he should probably say something. "Lord, it's good for us to be here. If you wish, I will put up three shelters — one for each of you." While he was still speaking, a voice from a bright cloud interrupted: "This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased. Listen to him." Literally the voice of God was required to get Peter to stop talking.
The upper room. Based on details across the four gospels, scholars can piece together where almost every disciple was sitting at the Last Supper. Peter is in the worst seat at the table — the thirteenth out of thirteen. Jesus had just spoken about humility. I think Peter sat there hoping Jesus would call him up to a seat of honor. Jesus doesn't. Peter stays at the kid's table.
Then Jesus begins washing the disciples' feet. It's a beautiful, profound moment of humility. Peter says, "Lord, are you going to wash my feet?" Jesus says he'll understand later. Peter says: "No. You shall never wash my feet." Telling Jesus what to do, again. Jesus says: "Unless I wash you, you have no part with me." Peter swings the opposite direction: "Then not just my feet — my hands and my head as well!" Jesus, patiently: "That's not how this works."
The denial prediction. Jesus tells the disciples that one of them will betray him. Peter, unprompted, immediately says: not me. No way. Couldn't be me. And Jesus looks at him and says: "Before the rooster crows tonight, you will deny me three times." Peter insists emphatically: "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you." Nobody asked him to say that. Nobody asked.
Peter is constantly overcompensating — running his mouth, trying to prove himself, doing things nobody asked for. From where I sit, it's either shame from past failures or deep insecurity. Probably both. And so you have a man who is used for miracles but then asks for more miracles. Who walks on water, then sinks. Who gets the most important theological declaration right, then immediately follows it with the dumbest thing he's ever said. Who pledges his undying loyalty, and then — just last week — runs into the garden and cuts off a soldier's ear while Jesus is trying to surrender peacefully.
Which brings us to our text.
The Courtyard: Three Denials
John 18:15–18, 25–27.
I don't know what was going through Peter's mind that night. But if you've ever been asked something on the spot and just panicked — you might understand a little.
I don't think he walked into that courtyard planning to deny his Lord. But there he is.
"You aren't one of his disciples too, are you?" — "I am not."
A moment later, by the fire: "You aren't one of his disciples too, are you?" — "I am not."
"Didn't I see you with him in the garden?" — denial. And a rooster crows.
Matthew and Luke add a detail that John leaves out. Luke 22:61 — "The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter." And Peter remembered. And he went outside and wept bitterly.
As Peter watches what happens next — Jesus condemned, marched toward crucifixion — I imagine two things are running through his mind at once. First: I have failed. Worse than I ever have. I have failed my friend, my rabbi, my Savior. And second: I have to go back to my old life. There's nothing left for me here.
The Empty Tomb: He Asked for You
But then — spoiler for next week — the tomb is empty.
The women discover an angel sitting there. And the angel gives them instructions. Mark 16:7 — "Go, tell his disciples and Peter — he is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him."
Why not just say the disciples? Why Peter specifically?
I think it's because Peter had already counted himself out. He was probably mentally packing his bags, figuring out how to slip out the back. And when the women burst in with the news, his first thought — I'm guessing — was: Jesus is back. That's great for them. But the last memory he has of me is looking down from the cross after I denied him three times. He doesn't want me. Why would he want me?
And the women said: He asked for you specifically.
That's the good news for screw-ups. For those of us who feel like we should be further along than we are. For those of us who beat ourselves up every day and call it prayer. For those of us walking with a limp in our faith.
We are not defined by our own wounds. We are defined by his.
The Beach Again: Full Circle
Jump ahead to John 21:1. The last chapter of John's gospel.
Jesus appeared again to his disciples by the Sea of Galilee. The same beach where he first met Peter. A group of them had gone out fishing through the night and caught nothing. At dawn, a figure stands on the shore and calls out: "Friends, haven't you any fish?" They hadn't recognized him. "Throw your net on the right side of the boat." They do — and they can't haul it in for the weight of the catch.
This is exactly how Peter first met Jesus.
Then John says to Peter: "It is the Lord." And Peter — impulsive as ever — throws on his outer garment and jumps into the water. The other disciples bring the boat in. When they land, they find a fire of burning coals there, with fish and bread.
The word in Greek is anthrakia — a charcoal fire. It's an unusual detail. There are only two charcoal fires mentioned in the entire gospel of John. The first one was in the high priest's courtyard. The night of the denial. Jesus is recreating the scene.
After breakfast, Jesus turns to Peter. "Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?"
Three times he asks. Three times Peter answers. One for each denial. And with each question, it's as if Jesus is wiping each one clean.
Then: "When you were younger, you dressed yourself and went where you wanted. But when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go."
John notes that Jesus said this to indicate the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. History records that Peter was crucified — upside down, at his own request, because he said he was not worthy to die in the same manner as his Lord. And all he had to do to avoid it was deny Jesus one more time. Just say you never knew him. The guards probably gave him three chances.
He never did.
And what does Jesus say at the end of all of this? The same thing he said on the beach, the first day they met:
"Follow me."
The past is the past. You've been restored. Let's get to work.
Closing
Here's the last thing I love about Peter.
His two biggest problems: hotheaded, can't keep his mouth shut. Both of which God uses for his kingdom. The next time we see Peter in Scripture after the resurrection, he's preaching to the masses. I imagine Jesus thinking: this guy will not stop talking — I might as well put him to work.
For many of us, it's actually our weaknesses, our character flaws, even our pain that God will use to do his greatest work.
This morning I told you the story of Peter. But in many ways, I was also telling you the story of you and me.