Mark 14:53-72 | Jesus Before the Council and Peter Denies Jesus
Jesus Before the Council
53 And they led Jesus to the high priest. And all the chief priests and the elders and the scribes came together. 54 And Peter had followed him at a distance, right into the courtyard of the high priest. And he was sitting with the guards and warming himself at the fire. 55 Now the chief priests and the whole council were seeking testimony against Jesus to put him to death, but they found none. 56 For many bore false witness against him, but their testimony did not agree. 57 And some stood up and bore false witness against him, saying, 58 “We heard him say, ‘I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and in three days I will build another, not made with hands.’ ” 59 Yet even about this their testimony did not agree. 60 And the high priest stood up in the midst and asked Jesus, “Have you no answer to make? What is it that these men testify against you?” 61 But he remained silent and made no answer. Again the high priest asked him, “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” 62 And Jesus said, “I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven.” 63 And the high priest tore his garments and said, “What further witnesses do we need? 64 You have heard his blasphemy. What is your decision?” And they all condemned him as deserving death. 65 And some began to spit on him and to cover his face and to strike him, saying to him, “Prophesy!” And the guards received him with blows.
Peter Denies Jesus
66 And as Peter was below in the courtyard, one of the servant girls of the high priest came, 67 and seeing Peter warming himself, she looked at him and said, “You also were with the Nazarene, Jesus.” 68 But he denied it, saying, “I neither know nor understand what you mean.” And he went out into the gateway and the rooster crowed. 69 And the servant girl saw him and began again to say to the bystanders, “This man is one of them.” 70 But again he denied it. And after a little while the bystanders again said to Peter, “Certainly you are one of them, for you are a Galilean.” 71 But he began to invoke a curse on himself and to swear, “I do not know this man of whom you speak.” 72 And immediately the rooster crowed a second time. And Peter remembered how Jesus had said to him, “Before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.” And he broke down and wept.
Mark’s gospel opens with this. “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” It doesn’t say, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, a great teacher.” It doesn’t say, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, a great man.” It says, “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.” Jesus is not just another important guy from history. From the very beginning, Mark presents Jesus as God’s very son who came to live, die and rise again to save us from sin and death.
Now, in some ways, all we’ve seen since that opening verse has been hurtling toward this passage today, where Jesus stands trial for claiming to be the Son of God. But that’s not all that’s happening. There’s also the story with Peter. As Jesus stands trial in the high priest’s house, Peter stands trial in the courtyard. He’s put himself there, trying to make good on his promise never to leave Jesus. But when the fire gets hot, he can’t stand the heat. Neither event was a surprise to Jesus. He knew his end in Jerusalem, and he predicted Peter’s failure in the courtyard. In both, we see the power of the gospel—Jesus standing firm for failures like Peter.
So there are two primary story-lines to consider.
The Judge Who Was Judged
The Disciple Who Denied
The Judge Who Was Judged
In an essay called “God in the Dock,” C.S. Lewis says:
The ancient man approached God (or even the gods) as the accused person approaches his judge. For the modern man the roles are reversed. He is the judge: God is in the dock. He is quite a kindly judge: if God should have a reasonable defense for being the god who permits war, poverty and disease, he is ready to listen to it. The trial may even end in God’s acquittal. But the important thing is that Man is on the Bench and God in the Dock.
I agree with Lewis in principle. But the Bible presents ancient man doing the same as modern man. Adam and Eve approached God as judge only after their fall into sin. Before, they put him in the dock in the garden, eating the forbidden fruit in disobedience. Cain struck down his brother Abel, and when God confronted him, he dared to ask if he was his brother’s keeper. Throughout Israel’s history, they wrestled with God, rejected his rule, and fought his grace. There are certainly bright spots along the way, but by and large, these ancient people did not approach God as the accused person approaches his judge. Quite the opposite. In the sinful man’s mind, God is always on trial; he must always prove himself. So I agree with Lewis that modern man puts himself on the Bench and God in the dock, but I say it’s always been that way. And that’s how we end up here in Mark 14 with Jesus on trial.
Now, how can this happen? I mean, Jesus on trial? Ask our modern world what they think about Jesus, and they’ll say he was a good man, even a great man. Amazing teacher. Had a heart for the poor. Loving and kind. And taught his followers to be the same. All that’s true. So then why was he tried, convicted, and crucified? Who kills someone so good and wonderful, and for what reason?
The truth is, sinful people always find reasons to kill God. It’s actually not hard to do at all. We have all kinds of things against him. We deeply believe all our problems are his fault. We’re doing the best we can, and we’re weak, so if we fail from time to time, that’s to be expected. We’re only human! But God? If he’s there at all, he can do anything, right? So why can’t he fix my life? Why did he let those bad things happen to me? Why do I suffer? Why is coronavirus spreading? Why did my loved one die? Why is my life so disappointing? Either God’s not there at all, or if he is, he’s not good. He’s got some explaining to do. Putting God in the dock is just what sinful humans do.
So to find Jesus on trial is not really all that surprising. We can debate about what the original sin is—is it pride or unbelief or something else—but what sin does is first and foremost put us on the bench and God in the dock.
We all do this. With every sin we commit, we put him in the dock. We say to him, “You know, I’m just not sure you’re really what I need right now.” God takes that seriously as an offense against himself. And yet, instead of wiping this world out, here is Jesus standing before a court of accusers.
In verses 53-65, Jesus is brought before the Jewish Sanhedrin (the ruling court of the day). It’s not a fair trial. They’ve made up their mind. Jesus is guilty. All they need to do is provide a few witnesses to prove it and call it a night. But verse 55 tells us they couldn’t find anything, and verse 56 says the witnesses couldn’t even agree on their lies. But they won’t let that get in their way. Since his early ministry in Galilee, they’ve plotted his death (Mark 3:6). As Jesus entered the temple after his triumphal entry into Jerusalem, his behavior drove his enemies to a breaking point. They couldn’t wait to kill him (Mark 14:2). And now that Judas has delivered him so easily, they’re well on their way to achieving their goal.
What is so threatening about Jesus? Why is his death the only acceptable outcome? Maybe it’s his actions. He was just so welcoming to people who didn’t belong. Maybe it was jealousy. He was taking their followers away. That was part of the hatred, yes, but it wasn’t what got him killed. So what was it? It was that Jesus claimed to be God. They did not have eyes to see the truth of who he was. But, okay, so they didn’t believe him. Still, why kill him? Because they loved God so much? Maybe. But if they did, why didn’t they see that Jesus as God? What’s going on?
Jesus was a theological threat and a political threat. Theologically, he claimed to be God. Politically, he rejected their leadership. Both were a problem. If he wasn’t God but says he is, he deserves death. And if he rejects their leadership, he’s against God, because this is the temple leadership we’re talking about.
But there’s also something deeper going on. This wasn’t a government trial; it was religious. It shows us what happens to people who serve God in theory without knowing him in reality. The Sanhedrin had something more important to them than following God. They had their political and religious power. They had their life, and they didn’t want God messing that up. When Jesus entered the temple, he made it clear from Scripture that their leadership wasn’t God’s will. But they didn’t care. It gave them what they wanted, and isn’t that the point anyway? Oh yes, sure, it’s all about God, but when God showed up, it was really all about them. J.I. Packer says it well. “What is sin’s essence? Playing God, acting as if you and your pleasure were the end to which all things, God included, must be made to function as a means.” Didn’t Jesus know God was a means to their end?
Who is Jesus to you? Is he God? Or is he merely a means to your ends? Are you saying with your mouth that God’s glory is all that matters while using him to establish your kingdom? That’s far easier to do than we imagine, and if we don’t yield to his lordship now, we might find ourselves sitting among his accusers tomorrow.
They could have bowed before Jesus in worship. Instead, they convicted him as a criminal. There was a darkness in them. Sin had taken root and grown to the point of not recognizing God when he stood before them. Their reaction shows the true tragedy of sin—how the devil joins our sinful nature to convict God. When Jesus comes around, the evil in us and the evil in the spiritual world go crazy. They have to because if they don’t, they will be destroyed. Jesus exposes who we really are, and that’s threatening. Our world isn’t big enough for both of us. One has to go. We’d rather be the evil person we’ve always been than the redeemed person Jesus wants to make us.
That’s the tragedy of sin. But it doesn’t have to be this way. Have you noticed how often Jesus pleads with these people throughout the gospels? In Matthew 23:37, he said, “O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!”
Jesus might destroy your kingdom, but he offers another—a perfect one with a perfect King. Jesus offers joy, so why hold on to our misery? He offers a glorious life we’ve always wanted, so why do we try so hard to keep control of our life? When has that ever worked out? Instead of fighting his grace, why not yield instead?
The Sanhedrin hated him, not because he was a threat to God—after all, he was God—but because he was a threat to them. So they fought him. And let’s just admit that we have too. Maybe some of us are right now. What is Jesus’ answer to that? This is the surprise of the gospel. Look at what happens.
As they brought charges, Jesus didn’t even respond, and that drove them crazy. Look at verse 60. “And the high priest stood up in the midst and asked Jesus, ‘Have you no answer to make? What is it that these men testify against you?’” Jesus didn’t answer that either. Verse 61. “But he remained silent and made no answer.” The prophet Isaiah predicted this. “He was oppressed, and he was afflicted, yet he opened not his mouth; like a lamb that is led to the slaughter, and like a sheep that before its shearers is silent, so he opened not his mouth” (Isaiah 53:7). He suffered in silence. Under the judgment of sinners, the sinless lamb, the suffering servant, remained quiet.
Throughout Mark’s gospel, Jesus was silent about his identity. He told the demons not to make him known (1:23-26, 32-34; 3:11-12). He told the healed leper not to tell anyone who he was (1:40-45). He asked Jairus not to reveal him after he brought his daughter back to life (5:41-43). He told the blind man to go home and not talk to anyone about him (7:33-37). To his disciples that saw his transfiguration, he asked them not to talk about it yet (9:9-10). When he entered Galilee, he told his disciples not to tell anyone he was there (9:30-32). But the word got out anyway. People talked about Jesus being the Son of God and the Messiah, but up until now, he had not explicitly stated his identity himself.
But in verse 61, the high priest asks him a direct question. “Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed?” He’s on the spot now. There are two parts to this question. First, “Are you the Christ?” In other words, “Are you the Messiah—the figure the prophets of old said would come to restore God’s world and lead his people into his kingdom?” Secondly, “Are you the Son of the Blessed?” In other words, “Are you saying you’re not only the Messiah but also God’s own son?” By bringing these two questions together into one, he’s asking Jesus pointedly if this is truly his self-understanding.
Jesus answers in verse 62. It’s a really important moment in Mark’s gospel. It’s the moment when he says explicitly who he really is. No shrouded messages. No hidden meanings. “And Jesus said, ‘I am, and you will see the Son of Man seated at the right hand of Power, and coming with the clouds of heaven.’”
With this answer, Jesus combined two Old Testament passages: Daniel 7 and Psalm 110. Weaving these together creates an even more powerful image than either contains in itself. Jesus is saying the Son of Man coming with the clouds of Daniel 7 is the Messiah seated at the right hand of God of Psalm 110, and that person is the one standing before them. In the Old Testament, riding on the clouds is reserved only for God. Jesus is saying he is God. And the one sitting at his right hand is the one with the highest honor. In other words, he’s saying that the one they are judging is the Judge of all the earth. There is the irony. The Judge is being judging. God is in the dock. But it will not always be that way. He wants them to know who he is. One day the Judge will come back with the clouds to do the judging, but not yet. John 3:17 says, “God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but so that the world might be saved through him.” But they condemned him, and they slapped him and spit on him and struck him.
Do you see what’s happening? Do you see the irony? The judge is being judged. He who came to save is being killed. And it’s all part of the plan. The world will be saved not first by the Judge’s judgment of the world but by the world’s judgment of him! In a great reversal, he’s getting what they deserved!
Why did God do this? Well, I think we see that best by looking at the story of Peter, the disciple who denied.
The Disciple Who Denied
Back in verse 54, we see that Peter followed the arresting party into the courtyard. Earlier in the chapter, Peter told Jesus he’d never leave him. He’d die with him. He’d never deny him. Following Jesus into the courtyard was Peter making good on that promise. But Jesus knew something about Peter that Peter did not yet know. He predicted Peter would deny him three times that night. Peter was there to prove him wrong.
Verses 66-72 tell us the story.
As Jesus stands trial in the house, Peter stands trial in the courtyard. But his council is much less intimidating. In fact, it was as non-threatening as possible. A servant girl was his first accuser, merely stating that he had been with Jesus. But he denies. She says it again, and he denies again. Then the bystanders hear it and say, “Yeah, I recognize you.” Then Peter, for the third time, denies knowing Christ. But more than that, he rains down curses on himself—a very serious thing to do.
What happened? How did Peter go from slinging a sword at Jesus’s captors to crumbling before a little servant girl? And could it happen to you? Could it happen to me? We all want to stand for Christ. Christ himself calls us to that high honor. But what if we don’t? What happens when we waiver in our faith? Perhaps right now, as our world spirals downward with coronavirus, we feel weaker than we thought we were. What hope do we have when our faith is less than we thought it was?
Peter is a good example. He was a man who thought he was stronger than he really was. And in a moment of crisis, he found out how weak he really was. Isn’t that how it always goes? We’re weakest when we think we’re strong.
What happened to Peter? Mark gives us some of the details, but the other gospels color it even more. Luke says when Peter denied Jesus the third time, the Lord looked at him (Luke 22:61). Can you imagine that look? No wonder Peter broke down and wept. He denied his friend and his Lord. And Jesus saw it!
John’s gospel tells us the fire they warmed themselves with in the courtyard that night was made of charcoal (John 18:18). There is only one other time the Bible mentions a charcoal fire. Do you know when that is? It’s after Jesus is resurrected. The apostles have gone back to their day jobs, fishing. Jesus arrives on the shore and tells them where to cast their nets. They bring in a haul, and Peter knows it’s Jesus. He jumps out of the boat and swims to shore. He’s still eager old Peter. When he gets there, Jesus has a fire going, cooking breakfast. Do you know what the fire is made of? Charcoal (John 21:9). Studies show our sense of smell is closely linked with memory, more so than the other senses. Jesus knew what he was doing. Peter’s mind likely flashed back to the courtyard—the moment of his greatest sin and shame.
What was Jesus going to say to him? Peter had put Jesus in the dock that night. When push came to shove, it was Jesus who had to go, not Peter. But here Jesus is, resurrected. He’s made it through death. Peter saw the empty tomb with his own eyes. As we will see in a couple of weeks, when the women get to the empty tomb, the angel tells them, “Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going before you to Galilee.” (Mark 16:7) It seems Jesus wanted to say something to Peter. What would it be? Here was the risen Judge coming to find him. What was his attitude?
The surprise of the gospel is that Jesus doesn’t come looking for his people in vengeance. We expect Jesus to say, “Go tell those losers who abandoned me that I’m coming for them.” But Instead, as Matthew records it, he says, “Go tell my brothers…they will see me” (Matthew 28:10). That’s how far his grace goes.
How can that be? How can he love like that? How can he forgive like that? There was a time when Peter asked Jesus how many times he should forgive someone who sinned against him. He proposed seven times. Jesus’s answer was seventy times seven (Matthew 18:22). Peter wanted to limit grace. Jesus expanded it. He always does. When we think it’s the end of the rope, Jesus says he’s just beginning. There is no end to his grace. Don’t worry about using it all up today, there’s always plenty for tomorrow.
How can that be? Because the Judge was judged. He went under judgment for us, and as a result, we’re clean. We’re free. We’re righteous. On the cross, Jesus absorbed all of our sins—all of Peter’s denial—as if it was his own, as if he denied God. On the cross, God accepted Jesus as our substitute. He accepted the offer of his life in place of ours. That’s why Jesus could forgive Peter. That’s why God can forgive us. The Bible says, “Without the shedding of blood there is no forgiveness of sins” (Hebrews 9:22). Someone’s gonna bleed for our sins. They’re that serious. And God says, it’s either us or Jesus. That’s why he became human. Jesus put himself in the dock, he put himself before the council, he put himself in the path of condemnation. We deserved it, but he received it. He took it for us. He was the representative of Israel, the Son of Man from Daniel 7, the divine Messiah from Psalm 110, and he humbled himself to the point of death, even death on a cross for us! He stood on behalf of all who would believe, bearing condemnation so we wouldn’t have to.
God traded his blood for ours. And in that exchange, God settled the accounts, but he did more than that. Jesus not only took our sin away, but he also gave us all his righteousness. When we trust in his saving work, his righteousness is granted to us so that in God’s eyes, it’s not only as if we’ve never disobeyed but that we’ve always obeyed. In God’s eyes, because of Christ, it’s as if Peter not only never denied him but always stood faithful to him.
That’s why Jesus could call Peter to him to breakfast that day. He didn’t see him as the sinner he was, but as the saint he had made him. He restored Peter that day on the shore. And if you’ve failed Jesus, he can restore you too. It’s what he does. And he loves to do it. He’s a redeemer! He loves to take hopeless cases like us and transform us into glorious trophies of his grace.
Peter was the disciple who denied Jesus, but Jesus was the Judge who was judged for his denial. He cleaned him by his cross. Not that sin alone but all his sin. He does that for you too. And all you have to do is, like Peter, swim to the shore where he sits waiting for you. Yes, there might be a charcoal fire. Some memories might come back. They will probably be painful. But as you look into his face, you’ll not see a frown. You’ll find a smile. His kindness will lead you to repentance. And you might just need to sit there with him for a while. You might not know what to say. That’s ok. Peter didn’t. So Jesus asked the questions. For each denial, Jesus asked Peter if he loved him. Three times he had the opportunity to say yes (John 21:15-19).
Jesus loves to restore people. Peter never got over that experience. He wrote about it later on in one of his letters. He said, “After you have suffered a little while, the God of all grace, who has called you to his eternal glory in Christ, will himself restore, confirm, strengthen, and establish you.” (1 Peter 5:10).
If you need the same grace Peter received, you can have it. It will require your repentance and humility, but that’s it. Jesus paid the rest. The Judge was judged for you. All you have to do is receive that grace with the empty hands of faith.
Let’s pray.
