We are now called to consider the profoundly interesting subject of Simon Peter’s restoration, in which we shall find some points of the utmost practical importance. If in his fall we learn the frailty and folly of man, in his restoration we learn the grace, wisdom, and faithfulness of our Lord Jesus Christ. The fall was, indeed, deep, terrible, and humiliating. The restoration was complete and marvelous. We may rest assured that Simon Peter will never forget either the one or other; nay, he will remember them with wonder, love, and praise, throughout the countless ages of eternity. The grace that shines in Peter’s restoration is only second to the grace displayed in his conversion. Let us glance at some of the salient points. It can be but the merest glance, as our space is limited. And first let us look at the procuring cause.
This we have given us with peculiar force by the pen of the inspired evangelist Luke. “And the Lord said, Simon, Simon, behold Satan hath desired to have thee, that he may sift thee as wheat.” If Satan had been suffered to have his way, poor Simon would have been hopelessly ruined. But no; he was merely employed as an instrument, as he had been in Job’s case, to do a needed work, and, when that work was done, he had to retire. He dare not go one hair’s breadth beyond his appointed sphere. It is well to remember this. Satan is but a creature—crafty, wily, powerful, no doubt, but a creature who can only go as far as he is permitted by God. Had Peter walked softly, had he humbly and earnestly looked for divine help, had he been judging himself in secret, there would have been no need of Satan’s sifting. Thanks be to God, Satan has no power whatever with a soul that walks humbly with God. There is perfect shelter, perfect safety, in the divine presence; and there is not an arrow in the enemy’s quiver that can reach one who leans in simple confidence upon the arm of the living God. Here our apostle failed, and hence he had to pass through a very severe process indeed, in order that he might learn himself.
But, oh, the power and preciousness of those words, “I have prayed for thee!” Here assuredly lay the secret—here was the procuring cause of Simon’s restoration. The prayer of Jesus sustained the soul of His erring servant in that terrible hour when the enemy would fain have crushed him to powder. What could Satan do in opposition to the all-powerful intercession of Christ? Nothing. That wonderful prayer was the ground of Peter’s safety, when, to human view, all seemed hopelessly gone.
And for what did our Lord pray? Was it that Peter might not commit the awful sin of denying Him? Was it that he might not curse and swear? Clearly not. What then? “I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not.”
Can aught exceed the grace that shines here? That gracious, loving, faithful Lord, in view of Peter’s terrible sin—knowing all he was about to do—all the sad forgetfulness, could actually plead for him that, spite of all, his confidence might not give way—that he might not lose the sense of the eternal stability of that grace which had taken him up from the depth of his ruin and guilt.
Matchless grace! Nothing can surpass it in brightness and blessedness. Had it not been for this prayer, Peter’s confidence must have given way. He never could have survived the awful struggle through which his soul passed when thinking of his dreadful sin. When he came to himself, when he reflected upon the whole scene, his expressions of devotedness, “Though all should deny thee, yet will I never deny thee”—“Though I should die with thee, yet will I not deny thee”—“I am ready to go with thee to prison and to death.” To think of all these words, and yet that he should deny his beloved Lord with cursing and swearing, was perfectly overpowering.
It is a dreadful moment in the soul’s history when one wakes up to the consciousness of having committed sin—sin against light, knowledge, and privilege—sin against divine grace and goodness. Satan is sure to be specially busy at such a crisis. He casts in the most terrible suggestions—raises all manner of questions—fills the heart with legal reasonings, doubts, and fears—causes the soul to totter on the foundation.
But, thanks and praise to our God, the enemy cannot prevail. “Hitherto shalt thou come, and no further.” The all-prevailing intercession of our divine Advocate sustains the faith so sorely tried, carries the soul through the deep and dark waters, restores the broken link of communion, heals the spiritual wounds, lifts up the fallen one, brings back the wanderer, and fills the heart with praise and thanksgiving. “I have prayed for thee that thy faith fail not; and when thou art restored, strengthen thy brethren.” Here we have set before us in the most touching way the procuring cause of Simon Peter’s restoration. We shall now look for a moment at
THE PRODUCING MEANS.
For this, too, we are indebted to the evangelist Luke. Indeed it is through him the inspiring Spirit has given us so much of what is exquisitely human—so much of what goes straight to our very hearts, in subduing power—so much of God coming out in loveliest human form.
We have already noticed Peter’s gradual descent—his sad progress, from one stage to another, in moral distance and culpable decline—forgetting to watch and pray—following afar off—warming himself at the enemy’s fire—the cowardly denial—the cursing and swearing. All this was down! down! down! shamefully and awfully down. But when the erring, straying, sinning one had reached the very lowest point, then comes out, with heavenly luster, the grace that shines in the procuring cause and the producing means of his restoration. The former we have in Christ’s prayer; the latter in Christ’s look. “The Lord turned, and looked upon Peter. And Peter remembered the word of the Lord, how he had said unto him, Before the cock crow thou shalt deny me thrice. And Peter went out, and wept bitterly.”
Yes, here it is; “The Lord looked”—“Peter remembered”—Peter wept—wept bitterly.” What a look! What a remembrance! What a weeping! What human heart can conceive, what tongue express, what pen portray, all that is wrapped up in that one look? We can well believe that it went right home to the very center of Peter’s soul. He will never forget that marvelous look, so full of mighty moral power—so penetrating—so melting—so soul-subduing.
“Peter went out, and wept bitterly.” This was the turning point. Up to this all was darkly downward. Here divine light breaks in upon the deep moral gloom. Christ’s most precious prayer is having its answer, His powerful look is doing its work. The fountain of the heart is broken up, and penitential tears flow copiously forth, demonstrating the depth, reality, and intensity of the work within.
Thus it must ever be, and thus it will ever be, when the Spirit of God works in the soul. If we have sinned, we must be made to feel, to judge, and to confess our sin—to feel it deeply, judge it thoroughly, and confess it fully. It will not do merely to say, in levity, flippancy, or mere formality, “I have sinned.” There must be reality, uprightness, and sincerity. God desires truth in the inward parts. There was nothing light, flippant, or formal about our beloved apostle in the hour of his fall and repentance. No, all was profoundly and intensely real. It could not but be so with such a procuring cause, and such a producing means. The prayer and look of Peter’s Lord displayed their precious results in Peter’s restoration.
Now the reader will do well to notice that the prayer and look of our Lord Jesus Christ set forth, in a very striking and beautiful manner, the two grand aspects of Christ’s present ministry as our Advocate with the Father. We have the value and prevalence of His intercession, and the power and efficacy of His word in the hands of the Holy Ghost, that “other Advocate.” Christ’s prayer for Peter answers to His intercession for us. His look upon Peter answers to His word brought home to us in the power of the Holy Ghost. When we sin—as, alas! we do in thought and deed—our blessed and adorable Advocate speaks to God on our behalf. This is the procuring cause of our repentance and restoration. But He speaks to us on God’s behalf. This is the producing means.
We shall not dwell upon the great subject of the advocacy here, having recently sought to unfold it in our papers on “The All-sufficiency of Christ.” We shall close this paper with a brief reference to two or three of the moral features of Peter’s restoration—features which, be it well remembered, must be looked for in every case of true restoration. In the first place there is THE STATE OF THE CONSCIENCE.
Now, as to the full and complete restoration of Peter’s conscience after his terrible fall, we have the most unquestionable evidence afforded in his after history. Take the touching scene at the sea of Tiberias, as given in John 21. Look at that dear, earnest, thorough man, girding his fisher’s coat around him, and plunging into the sea, in order to get to the feet of his risen Lord! He waits neither for the ship nor for his companions, but in all the lovely freshness and liberty of a divinely restored conscience, he rushes to his Savior’s feet. There is no tormenting fear, no legal bondage, no doubt, darkness, or distance. His conscience is perfectly at rest. The prayer and the look—the two grand departments of the work of advocacy—had proved effectual. Peter’s conscience was all right, sound, and good; and hence he could find his home in the presence of his Lord—his holy, happy home.
Take another striking and beautiful evidence of a restored conscience. Look at Peter in Acts 3 There he stands in the presence of assembled thousands of Jews, and boldly charges them with having “denied the Holy One and the Just”—the very thing which he himself had done under circumstances far more aggravating. How could Peter do this? How could he have the face to speak so? Why not leave it to James or John to prefer this heavy charge? The answer is blessedly simple. Peter’s conscience was so thoroughly restored, so perfectly at rest, because perfectly purged, that he could fearlessly charge the house of Israel with the awful sin of denying the Holy One of God. Was this the fruit of moral insensibility? Nay, it was the fruit of divine restoration. Had any one of the congregation gathered in Solomon’s porch undertaken to challenge our apostle as to his own shameful denial of his Lord, we can easily conceive his answer. The man who had “wept bitterly” over his sin would, we feel assured, know how to answer such a challenge. Not that his bitter weeping was the meritorious ground of his restoration; nothing of the kind, it only proved the reality of the work of repentance in his soul. Moral insensibility is one thing, and a restored conscience, resting on the blood and advocacy of Christ, is quite another.
But there is another thing involved in a true work of restoration, and that is
THE STATE OF THE HEART.
This is of the very utmost importance in every instance. No restoration can be considered divinely complete which does not reach the very depths of the heart. And hence, when we turn back to the scenes on the shore of the sea of Tiberias, we find the Lord dealing very closely and very powerfully with the state of Peters heart. We cannot attempt to expatiate, much as we should like to do so, on one of the most affecting interviews in the entire volume of God. We can do little more than quote the inspired record, but that is quite enough.
It is deeply interesting to notice that there is no allusion—not the most remote—to past scenes during that wonderful dinner, provided, cooked, and dispensed by the risen Lord! But “when they had dined, Jesus saith to Simon Peter, Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou me more than these?” Here Simon is recalled by the words of his faithful Lord to his self-confident profession. He had said, “Though all shall be offended, yet will not I.” Then the searching question, three times repeated, evidently calls back the threefold denial.
Peter’s heart is touched—the moral root of the whole matter is reached. This was absolutely necessary in Peter’s case, and it is absolutely necessary in every case. The work of restoration can never be thorough unless the roots of things are reached and judged.
Mere surface worn will never do. It is of no use to crop the sprouts; we must get down to the depths, the hidden springs, the moral sources, and judge them in the very light of the divine presence.
This is the true secret of all genuine restoration. Let us ponder it deeply. We may rest assured it demands our most solemn consideration. We are all too apt to rest satisfied with cropping off the sprouts that appear above the surface of our practical daily life, without getting at the roots, and the sad consequence is that the sprouts quickly appear again, to our sorrow and shame, and the dishonor of our Lord’s name. The work of self-judgment must be more profound if we would really make progress. We are terribly shallow, light, and flippant. We greatly lack depth, seriousness, and moral gravity. We want more of that heart-work which was wrought in Simon the son of Jonas on the shore of the sea of Tiberias. “ Peter was grieved because he said unto him the third time, Lovest thou me?” The knife of the divine Operator had reached the root of the moral disease, and that was enough. It was needful, but it was enough; and the grieved and self-judged Simon Peter has only to fall back upon the great fact that his Lord knew all things. “Lord, thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love thee.” It is as though he had said, “Lord, it demands the eye of Omniscience itself to discern in the heart of the poor erring one a single spark of affection for thee.”
Reader, this truly is real work. We have before us a thoroughly restored soul—restored in conscience, restored in heart. And if it be asked, “What remains?” the answer is, we see a servant
RESTORED TO HIS WORK.
Some would tell us that if a man falls, lie can never recover his position; and no doubt, under government, we must reap as we sow. But grace is another thing altogether. Government drove Adam out of Eden, and never replaced him, but grace announced the victorious seed of the woman. Government kept Moses out of Canaan, but grace conducted him to Pisgah’s top. Government sent a perpetual sword upon David’s house, but grace made the son of Bathsheba the wisest and wealthiest of Israel’s kings.
This distinction must never be lost sight of. To confound grace and government is to commit a very grave mistake indeed. We cannot attempt to enter upon this weighty subject here, having done so in one of our earlier volumes. But let the reader seek to understand it, and bear it ever in mind.
As to Simon Peter, we not only see him restored to the work to which he was called at the first, but to something even higher. “Feed my lambs—shepherd my sheep”—is the new commission given to the man who had denied his Lord with an oath. Is not this something beyond “catching men?” “When thou art restored, strengthen thy brethren.” Can anything in the way of service be more elevating than shepherding sheep, feeding lambs, and strengthening brethren? There is nothing in all this world nearer or dearer to the heart of Christ than His sheep, His lambs, His brethren: and hence He could not have given Simon Peter a more affecting proof of His confidence than by committing to his care the dearest objects of His deep and tender love.
And then mark the closing words, “Verily, verily, I say unto thee, when thou wast young, thou girdedst thyself, and walkedst whither thou wouldest; but when thou shalt be old, thou shalt stretch forth thy hands, and another shall gird thee, and carry thee whither thou wouldest not. This spake he, signifying by what death he should glorify God. And when he had spoken this, he saith unto him, Follow me.”
What weighty words are these I Who can tell their depth, power, and significance? What a contrast between Simon, “young,” restless, forward, blundering, boastful, self-confident; and Peter, “old” subdued, mellowed, passive, crucified! What a difference between a man walking whither he would, and a man following a rejected Lord along the dark and narrow pathway of the cross, home to glory!