The first time I ever tried to cheat in school was in fifth grade in Mrs. Flynn’s class at Sunset View Elementary. It was during a social studies test that I was woefully unprepared for and a new idea struck me: if I put the textbook in my lap, I could glance down at it, and keep it hidden by flattening the book against the bottom of desk when the teacher walked by. It didn’t work. My teacher easily spotted the book in my lap and pulled it out, in front of the entire class: “Marc, what were thinking?” I remember the look of the bright, red “F” on my test and the note I had to have my parents sign and bring back to school, disclosing to them my crime. Worst of all, my parents were gone, so I was staying the night at my grandparents’ house, and I had to explain all of this to my grandfather, which (for some reason) was ten times worse. I don’t remember many things from the fifth grade, but I do remember the intense burden of shame I felt—the truth was that I had already failed the test ahead of time by not studying, but just tried to cover it up with cheating. And then, to my horror, I was terribly exposed.

When our very first parents were given their test—not a fifth grade test on the history of Washington State, but the test of the tree of knowledge of good and evil, they also failed. And they too, when the moment came, tried to hide behind something as flimsy as a fifth grader’s plan to cram a text book under a desk without the teacher noticing. They cover themselves in fig leaves and then hide when God comes to speak. They are now naked and ashamed because they failed the test. And their flimsy cover is immediately exposed. Of course, God already knew what they had done. But, like a child whose bizarre and suspicious behavior clearly tells you that they are hiding something, Adam and Eve’s paltry fig-leaf coverings, their flight from God—what they are doing to attempt to conceal their shame—highlights all the more.

So it is with us. What do we do with our shame? The kind that we cannot laugh off, the way I can now laugh off my story in Mrs. Flynn’s class? What do we do with the deep, black failures that seem to have their own gravitational pull, that linger like cigarettes on our breath? All our efforts to hide our shame, pretend like there is no failure, no problem, is like trying to hold a beach ball underwater. Your very attempts at managing it telegraph its very presence.

In our text today, as we return to John’s gospel, takes us into another garden, another test. And there we will see two outcomes: Peter, who will fail, catastrophically so; and Christ, who will pass the test. My prayer for you is to see yourself in Peter, and your hope in Christ.

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When Jesus had spoken these words, he went out with his disciples across the brook Kidron, where there was a garden, which he and his disciples entered. 2 Now Judas, who betrayed him, also knew the place, for Jesus often met there with his disciples. 3 So Judas, having procured a band of soldiers and some officers from the chief priests and the Pharisees, went there with lanterns and torches and weapons. 4 Then Jesus, knowing all that would happen to him, came forward and said to them, “Whom do you seek?” 5 They answered him, “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus said to them, “I am he.” Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them. 6 When Jesus said to them, “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground. 7 So he asked them again, “Whom do you seek?” And they said, “Jesus of Nazareth.” 8 Jesus answered, “I told you that I am he. So, if you seek me, let these men go.” 9 This was to fulfill the word that he had spoken: “Of those whom you gave me I have lost not one.” 10 Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his right ear. (The servant’s name was Malchus.) 11 So Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” John 18:1-11

Jesus’ Test

Jesus concludes his final words to His disciples and directs them to a place they are familiar with. John tells us that they enter a “garden”—which the other gospel authors tell us is the garden of Gethsemane (Matt 26:36; Mark 14:32). This is a significant theme which we will return to at the scene of the resurrection, where Jesus was buried in a garden and is mistaken for a gardener (see John 19:41, 20:15). And like the Garden of Eden, we see similar characters, with slight alterations appear on the scene.

We have Adam, Jesus Christ, the second Adam (1 Cor 15:45-49).

We have Eve—the Bride of Christ, the Church is present with His disciples.

And we have the serpent—Judas and his band of soldiers. Back in John 13 we were told that Satan had entered into Judas (John 13:27). The serpent slithers again into the garden, eager to again put mankind to the test.

But this isn’t Eden. When Adam and Eve were expelled from Eden, we were told that a flaming sword barred the entrance back. To get back, you must face the sword, judgment. Jesus, our new Adam, is taking us back by suffering the sword.

And more. In the Genesis account, who does the serpent target? Eve. Adam is silent through the entire temptation, passively standing by while his wife is spiritually destroyed.

Here, we have the exact opposite. The disciples are silent and Jesus speaks. And his speech has power. As soon as the mob arrives, Jesus, we are told, comes forward. He stands between them and His disciples, He initiates: “Whom do you seek?” The answered him: “Jesus of Nazareth.” Jesus said to them, “I am he.” Judas, who betrayed him, was standing with them. 6 When Jesus said to them, “I am he,” they drew back and fell to the ground. (John 18:4-6). Why does John add that parenthetical note in the middle of verse 5, telling us that Judas was there? Because, Judas is currently the vessel of Satan. And John wants you, the reader, to know that Satan is just as susceptible to the power of Jesus as anyone else.

The ESV translates Jesus’ response as “I am he,” but you’ll notice that there is a footnote to tell you that there is no “he” in the original Greek. God’s name in Hebrew is Yahweh, and if we translate that into english, it is “I am.” Jesus has been doing this repeatedly throughout the gospel of John with His many “I am” statements: I am the bread of life, I am the door, I am the light of the world, etc. But here, He reveals Himself more clearly than ever before. And it is a thunderous power. Like a bolt of lightening striking at their feet, the band of armed guards and Judas are scrambling around on the ground at the mere words of Jesus. Like in Genesis, where God’s power is revealed through His divine words, to speak and by speaking He acts, so too does the son of God flex His power through His speech. Like the mount of transfiguration, in this scene we get the tiniest glimmer of the titanic power veiled behind this carpenter from Nazareth.

As they scramble to their feet, maybe even with a smile on His face, Jesus says, “Let’s try this again: who are you looking for?” I wish we could hear the tone of their voice as they repeat themselves. John told us already that Jesus knew everything that would happen. He is not being taken off guard. He is not being overpowered. He is going willingly, like a grown-man who lets a group of kids with nerf-guns “arrest” him. It is not their strength, but His, that is highlighted.

Now, contrast that with the first garden, the first test. In the first garden, Adam not only was silent, but he also was passive. He could have been silent, but still defended His Bride. Here, Jesus stands between the serpent and His disciples: take me, let them go. He had just prayed back in John 17:12 how He had guarded or kept them and not let one be lost. Adam’s initial charge given by God was to “guard” or “keep” the garden, to be on the lookout for serpents who might destroy. Adam failed. But Jesus didn’t. The fact that all of the disciples are spared—even after Peter strikes with the sword—is remarkable and a testament to the sheer authority that Jesus had.

Jesus is securing their physical safety in the moment, but this act of “take me, spare them,” is the very picture of what is about to happen for their very souls. Jesus will not only submit to being arrested so His friends may walk free, He is about to submit to being condemned before the Father so that we all may be spared the just condemnation our sins had earned. “Substitution” might be the best word to summarize what the dense center of the gospel is. There is much more that radiates outward from that—a changed life, hope for tomorrow, justice for society, etc. But the beating heart of the message of Christianity is our Savior who stands between us and Hell, and says, “Take me, not them.”

Died He for me, who caused His pain?

For me, who Him to death pursued?

Amazing love! how can it be

That Thou, my God, should die for me?

If you will remember, Peter had vowed that he would never leave Jesus’ side, that he would be prepared to lay down his life for Jesus, only to have Jesus sadly inform Peter that this was not the case, and instead, Peter would deny him three times (John 13:36-38).

And here we are, maybe only an hour or two later, and Jesus is about to be arrested. Peter knows this is his moment to prove that his words were not just empty talk.

Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his right ear. (The servant’s name was Malchus.) (John 18:10)

Brief aside: the fact that we are given the servant’s name (Malchus) is a little historical version of a footnote. This was a way for John to telegraph to us that his gospel is eyewitness testimony. He isn’t just making this story up. It is his way of telling you the reader, “If you don’t believe me, go find Malchus, the high priest’s servant; he will tell you.” It was a historic way of citing your sources.

In many ways, this is a remarkable display of bravery, isn’t it? Peter isn’t a coward. He knows that he doesn’t have the strength of arms alone to overpower a mob of armed soldiers. Maybe he hopes he will inspire his friends to join in, perhaps Jesus will again reveal that miraculous power to stun the mob and they will escape. And, if we are supposed to be seeing the garden of Eden motifs at play, what did God promise the serpent would happen? There would be an offspring of the woman who would crush his head (Gen 3:15). **Where does Peter land his blow? On the head of the high priest’s servant—it was a simply mistake that he missed only severed the man’s ear. Isn’t Peter doing the manly, courageous thing, what Adam should have done?

Much to Peter’s surprise, right as he thinks he is doing precisely what a faithful, loyal disciple ought to do—one who vowed to lay down his life—Jesus rebukes Peter (see Luke 22:51). In fact, Luke tells us that after that rebuke, Jesus turns and heals the servant.

So Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” (John 18:11)

The ability for Jesus to prevent this from boiling over into a bloodbath is, again, an astonishing nod to His authority. But how bizarre this moment must have been for Peter. “The blow was as clumsy as Peter’s courage was great; the tactic was as pointless as Peter’s misunderstanding was total. (Carson)

Peter does not understand that the problem is not the armed guards, the problem isn’t even Judas. If Peter could engineer a way to kill all of them and escape with Jesus, he would still be trapped in the deadly peril that he has failed to recognize. Jesus has come to crush the head of the serpent. But He realizes that the only way to do that is to be crushed himself. This is the Father’s cup, His plan for His Son. And Peter cannot see it. He thinks he wrestles against flesh and blood, unaware of the spiritual principalities that lay claim on his soul and will take him to hell forever if the son of God does not die in his place.

Peter’s Test

And from this point on, the stories of Peter and Jesus are wound together like two threads in a rope. We are given this oscillating vignettes where we see how Jesus responds, and how Peter responds, and through them all we see over and over, Peter’s failure, and Jesus’ success.

“John has constructed a dramatic contrast wherein Jesus stands up to his questioners and denies nothing, while Peter cowers before his questioners and denies everything’ (Brown)

12 So the band of soldiers and their captain and the officers of the Jews arrested Jesus and bound him. 13 First they led him to Annas, for he was the father-in-law of Caiaphas, who was high priest that year. 14 It was Caiaphas who had advised the Jews that it would be expedient that one man should die for the people.

15 Simon Peter followed Jesus, and so did another disciple. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he entered with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, 16 but Peter stood outside at the door. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out and spoke to the servant girl who kept watch at the door, and brought Peter in. 17 The servant girl at the door said to Peter, “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” He said, “I am not.” 18 Now the servants and officers had made a charcoal fire, because it was cold, and they were standing and warming themselves. Peter also was with them, standing and warming himself.

19 The high priest then questioned Jesus about his disciples and his teaching. 20 Jesus answered him, “I have spoken openly to the world. I have always taught in synagogues and in the temple, where all Jews come together. I have said nothing in secret. 21 Why do you ask me? Ask those who have heard me what I said to them; they know what I said.” 22 When he had said these things, one of the officers standing by struck Jesus with his hand, saying, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” 23 Jesus answered him, “If what I said is wrong, bear witness about the wrong; but if what I said is right, why do you strike me?” 24 Annas then sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.

25 Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself. So they said to him, “You also are not one of his disciples, are you?” He denied it and said, “I am not.” 26 One of the servants of the high priest, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, asked, “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” 27 Peter again denied it, and at once a rooster crowed. (John 18:12-27)

In verses 12-14, Jesus is brought to Annas, a relative of the high-priest, and questioned. In vs. 15 we are told that Peter and “another disciple” (likely John, the author of the gospel) follow along. John, apparently, is somehow known to the high priest, but Peter is not. Jesus is being interrogated in the high priest’s personal home, so it isn’t a public space that anyone can walk into. But John is able to get Peter in, but Peter is stopped by a servant girl at the door: “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” Now, if John is known enough to the high priest to be permitted entry into the house, they must be aware that he is a disciple of Jesus. And you sense that with the servant girl’s question to Peter: “You also are not one of this man’s disciples, are you?” Meaning, if Peter is there with John (and it is known that John is a disciple) it makes sense that Peter would be as well. If that is true, that means that John is willing to be identified with Jesus, even now. But Peter, in a flash, replies: “I am not.”

What should Peter have said? “Are you also one of his disciples?” “I am.” That’s what he should have said. If Peter had the courage and integrity he should have had, he would have incidentally repeated the same two words that Jesus just spoke a few verses ago when He too was surrounded by a hostile crowd looking to attack, the very words which bowled all of them over. But Peter is not like Jesus. He had the courage to fight, but not the courage to not fight. To go down in a blaze of glory, taking as many of them with you as you can—Peter could do. But just rolling over like a dog? Jesus alone stands with courage and answers affirmatively, “I am,” because Jesus alone is the I Am. When Peter lies to save his skin and says, “I am not” he is speaking better than he knows. If “I am” is the divine identifier, then Peter’s lie, in a poignant twist of revelation, reveals a truth far deeper than he intends. That’s right Peter, you are not like Jesus.

Consider the contrast through this narrative between Jesus and Peter:

• Jesus stands alone in the dark, in the cold. Peter stands next to the mob, warming himself by the light of the fire. Jesus is bound, Peter goes free. Jesus is struck by the officers, Peter strikes.
• Jesus is calm and collected, despite being forcefully taken. Peter is erratic, and explosive, despite walking free.
• Jesus speaks openly and honestly before the world (vs. 20), Peter is two-faced and deceptive.
• Jesus continues to protect His disciples, Peter forsakes his Master.
• Jesus patiently entrusts Himself to the Father’s will, despite having all the power at His disposal to defend Himself. Peter violates the Father’s will to save his own skin.
• Jesus is the I Am; Peter is “I am not”

Our Test

Peter’s failure is gargantuan. John was there, he didn’t do what Peter did. Peter looks like a slightly less brazen form of Judas. He may not have the same malice and forethought that Judas had, but both Judas and Peter have found something in Jesus that they just fundamentally do not understand nor agree with, and so they break ranks with Him.

And both Peter and Judas, after they fail the test, feel an incalculable level of guilt and shame. How did Peter ever show his face again after this? Judas just commits suicide. He cannot live with it. And that makes sense. But how does Peter go from publicly denouncing Christ to this crowd to, a few weeks later, publicly and bold preaching to them about the very Messiah he had so shamefully denied?

Peter learned that the gospel is for disappointments, for those who fail the test.

Why does Judas kill himself? Because he has a conscience, a soul made in the image of God, and it screams at him that what he has done is heinous and deserves punishment. So he ends his life. Why doesn’t Peter? Because, thanks be to God, he comes to see the logic of Jesus’ death:

For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. 22 He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. 23 When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly. 24 He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed. - 1 Pet 2:21-24

Three things:

1. Jesus died for disappointments. All of us have sinned and fallen short. If we don’t apply this to what we are ashamed of most, we will be prone to self-hatred.
2. Jesus lived for disappointments. Jesus lived the life we did not. He is the Gold-medalist. Jesus’ life was remarkable. He never did anything shameful. If we don’t apply to our lackluster lives, we will be prone to taking ourselves too seriously and living false.
3. Jesus changes disappointments. “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.” (1 Pet 2:24). If we don’t see this, we will be prone to living a shameful life.