Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 2669
“Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.” John 21:17.
PETER was somewhat pressed. He felt that he was pushed into a corner and compelled to look into his own heart and divulge its innermost secret. To be asked once, in the presence of his Brothers, whether he loved his Lord more than they did, had a tendency to humiliate him, for he had boastfully declared that, though all men should be offended because of Christ, he would not. But to be asked, next, whether he really loved Christ at all, sank him to the ground with holy shame. And when his Master asked him, the third time, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?” Peter was grieved—not angry—that could not be his condition under such circumstances, nor was he rebellious, but, at last, his heart was effectually touched by his Master’s skillful hands and he was grieved, just as true love is always grieved when it is questioned, but most of all grieved when it is questioned again, and again, and again. Now, the enormity of his guilt in denying his Lord has come home to him—and the grief which he had caused his gracious Master is now reflected in his own deep and contrite sorrow. “Peter was grieved because He said unto him the third time, Do you love Me?”
Our Savior’s thus pressing him closely was no doubt necessary as a salutary discipline to Peter. It was not unkind-ness, but the highest form of honest tenderness which led our Lord to act in this way. I suppose that if such a thing had occurred in any of our churches as for some leading member to deny that he knew Christ, and to go the length of denying it with oaths and curses, and to commit that great sin three times in the presence of many witnesses, so that the fact could not possibly be doubted, it would have been absolutely necessary, according to the teaching of the New Testament, to exercise discipline upon such a man—and I think that he would have been excluded from church fellowship. The Apostle Paul, writing concerning one who had been guilty of gross sin, says that with such a man we can have no fellowship— no, not so much as to eat with him. And he would have said the same about Peter.
Peter had denied Christ with oaths and curses. It was a most heinous sin and surely the purity of the Church would be put in jeopardy—the very existence of the Church as a testimony for Christ would be hazarded by the retaining of such a man in its communion. According to such a rule as that, I suppose we must always judge. But the Lord Jesus Christ possessed attributes which we have not. He was Omniscient and, therefore, He could read Peter’s heart. It was not necessary for Him to do what it might be lawful and even necessary for us to do. He knew that Peter’s heart was right, notwithstanding all the evil of which he had been guilty. So, instead of refusing to have fellowship with him, the Savior first eats with him—Christ literally bids him come to breakfast. And then He exercises what I may call a sort of church discipline upon him, though I mean that expression in no hard or unkind sense.
Paul wrote to Timothy, “Then that sin rebuke before all, that others also may fear,” and our Lord acted in that manner on this occasion. The six other Brothers, who might fitly be regarded as representing the entire Church, were present, and the Savior began gently, but firmly, to probe Peter’s heart and to probe it again, and yet again, until He perceived that He had touched him in the most tender possible place—and had drawn from him this last and most solemn declaration of the sincerity of his love—“Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You.” Thrice had he denied his Lord. It was right, therefore, that he should thrice confess his love. And so his Master constrained him to do by His thrice-repeated question, “Simon, son of Jonah, do you love Me?”
Let us, dear Friends, as we think over this sad incident of Peter’s sin, and of our Lord’s gracious way of restoring him to his former office by a gentle act of discipline, put ourselves through a little heart-searching. It may be that, thanks to the restraining Grace of God, we have not sinned as Peter did, but we have sinned in some other way. We have, all of us, sinned quite enough to make us ask, “Lord, do we love You?” Instead of waiting for Him to put the question to us, we will ask it of ourselves—Do we really and truly love the Lord? Let us also believe that our Lord, as He stands at this moment among us and walks from pew to pew, bows His head over each one of us, and asks, “Do you love Me?”
As He does so, let us not evade the question, or play tricks with it. Let not, any one of us, say, “I hope I do,” or, “I am afraid I do not.” We either do or we do not—and the only answer that will be satisfactory will be, “Yes,” or, “No.” If we say, “No,” it will be so far satisfactory that we are speaking the truth and, possibly, we may be helped to start back from so terrible a truth as that—that we do not love the Lord Jesus Christ—and that will be good for us, especially if it shall lead us to yield to Him. A man should always know the consequences of what he is doing, that he may do it with his eyes open and, then, perhaps, he will see the folly and the sin of it and take to a better course. But if, dear Friend, you can answer, “Yes,” to Christ’s question, then say it. Slowly, thoughtfully, as in the Presence of the Eternal God, say, “Lord, I ask You to bear witness on my account, for Your word is faithful and true. ‘You know all things; You know that I love You.’” If you can say that, it will be a happy thing for yourself, and it will be a blessed thing for those who are round you, for, now, being assured of your own love to Christ, you will endeavor to win others to share that love, that many of you together may be able to say to Christ—