15-18, 25-27
Simon Peter and another disciple followed Jesus. Since that disciple was known to the high priest, he went with Jesus into the courtyard of the high priest, but Peter was standing outside at the gate. So the other disciple, who was known to the high priest, went out, spoke to the woman who guarded the gate, and brought Peter in.
This is the only place in the Gospels that specifies a "charcoal fire" (anthrakia in Greek). The only other time John uses this word is in chapter 21 when Jesus makes breakfast for the disciples by a charcoal fire and restores Peter. It's a beautiful bookend. Peter fails by a charcoal fire, and Jesus restores him by a charcoal fire. The smell, the warmth, the setting - it all comes back. Trauma and healing happen in the same space.
In the same night, Peter goes from cutting off someone's ear in violent defense of Jesus to denying he even knows him. What happens between the garden and the courtyard? Fear. Exhaustion. Realizing that violence didn't work and now he has nothing left. The collapse from bravado to cowardice. The fall necessary for the rise.
"Peter was standing with them and warming himself." He's literally warming himself by the fire of the people who arrested Jesus. Sometimes we're so cold, so afraid, so exhausted that we'll stand with anyone who offers warmth—even if they're the opposition.
John structures this brilliantly. In the part we’re not reading today, he interweaves Peter's denials with Jesus' bold confession before the high priest. While Jesus is saying "I AM," Peter is saying "I am not."
I’m currently reading Henri Nouwen’s writings about being the beloved of God. God calls us a beloved child of God. So I’m thinking about how we can deny our belovedness—our intimacy with God—and miss out on so much of what God has for us.