A Life of St. John for the Young

by George Ludington Weed

The captive Lord was dragged along the highway where Peter and John had been for a single hour the Heralds of the King. Over the Kidron, up the slope of Moriah, through the gate near the sacred Temple, along the streets of the Holy City, He was led as a robber to the high-priestly palace.

Three Evangelists tell us, "Peter followed afar off." But love soon overcame his fears. He was not long alone. John says, "Simon Peter followed Jesus and so did another disciple." We cannot doubt who was Peter's companion as he turned from his flight. They "went both together," as two days later they ran on another errand. In the shadows of the olive-trees along the roadside, or of the houses of the city, they followed the hurrying band which they overtook by the time it reached the palace gate. John did not "outrun Peter," who was probably the leader. But at the gate they were separated.

We must not think that this palace was like an American house. The entrance to it was through a great arched gateway. This was closed with a large door or gate, in which there was a small entrance called a wicket gate, through which people passed. These gates opened into a broad passage or square court. Around it on three sides the house was built. All rooms upstairs and down looked into it. One large room, forming one side, was separated from it, not by a wall, but by a row of pillars. Being thus opened it was easy to see what was passing in the room or the court.

"That disciple," who accompanied Peter to the gate, "was known unto the high priest and entered in with Jesus into the court of the high priest. But Peter was standing at the door without." John was doubtless familiar with the place and the servants, and went in with the crowd. He kept as near as he could to his Master during the dark hours of His trial, as he was to do during the yet darker hours at the cross.

But the disciple within could not forget the one without. They must not be separated in their common sorrow. Peter too must show by his presence his continued love for his Master. He must have opportunity to show in the palace something of the faithfulness of which he had boasted in the Upper Room, though it had faltered in Gethsemane.

"Then went out that other disciple which was known unto the high priest and spake unto her that kept the door, and brought in Peter." That doorkeeper was not Rhoda—she who with a different spirit joyfully answered Peter's knocking at another door—but was a pert maiden who, sympathizing with the enemies of Jesus, "saith unto Peter, Art thou also one of this man's disciples?" She understood that John was such. Her contempt was aimed at them both. But it was not her question so much as Peter's answer—"I am not"—that startled John. Was it for this denial that he had gained admission for his friend? It would have been better far if Peter had been kept "standing at the door without" though "it was cold," than to be brought into the court of temptation and sin, where he "sat with the servants" in his curiosity "to see the end," warming himself at the fire they had kindled.

Meanwhile we think of John hastening back to the judgment hall, from which he anxiously watched the movements of Peter "walking in the counsel of the ungodly, and standing in the way of sinners, and sitting in the seat of the scornful."

Poor Peter! He fears to look into any man's face, or to have any one look into his. He has obeyed the Master's bidding, "Put up thy sword into the sheath," but Malchus has not forgotten it; nor has his kinsman who saw Peter in the garden with Jesus,—though he may have forgotten the healing of Malchus' ear by his prisoner.

Three Evangelists tell how Peter "sat" with the enemies of Jesus. John tells how at different times he "stood" among them. Thus does he report as an eye-witness, and show his own watchfulness of Peter's restlessness;—of the conflicting emotions of shame and fear, the scornful frown, the enforced and deceiving smile, the defiant look, the vain effort to appear indifferent, and the storm of anger. Amazed at the first denial, shocked at the second, horrified at the third, what were John's feelings when one was "with an oath," and with another "he began to curse and to swear." But concerning this climax of Peter's sin, John is silent. It finds no place in his story.

At last "the Lord turned and looked upon Peter," either from the hall, or as He was being led from it. At the same moment, Peter turned and looked upon Him. We imagine John turning and looking upon them both, marking the grief of the one, and the sense of guilt and shame of the other. But he knew the loving, though erring disciple so well that he need not be told that when "Peter went out" "he wept bitterly." We almost see John himself weeping bitterly over his friend's fall; then comforting him when they met again, with assurances of the Lord's love and forgiveness. John's next record of their being together shows them united in feeling, purpose and action for their Lord.