We all want to be seen by Jesus, the very Son of God. We often seek a feeling of His presence, a longing to sense Him beside us and with us. The writers of the Psalms often cried out for God to be close, to not turn a deaf ear to them, or for God’s glory to thunder forth, asking God with words like these: “Do not hide your face from me.”[1]
This morning, I started my day by asking God that I might “sense you every hour and make this day a prayer.”
Just hours before he held the bread and cup of the Passover feast, Jesus refocused the eyes of the disciples’ faith to see more than unleavened bread and wine—more even than the memory of the exodus from slavery in Egypt. He looked each of them in the eye, gave them the spiritual food, and said, “I give you this bread, this wine. I ask you to do this often to remember not only our historic covenant, but the covenant fulfilled—the new covenant in my blood.”
When God makes a covenant with people, God is true to God’s word. Of the many terms we might use to describe God, these two are formative: God is covenant-maker, and God is covenant-keeper.
Remembering the Covenant
Jesus’ word was strong: remember. Remember this covenant. Remember this meal. Here is my presence. Feel it. Touch it. Taste it. Remember me every time you eat this meal, for I will be present to you in this sacrament of communion.
This was at the dinner hour. Peter was there. Peter saw Jesus look him in the eyes. Peter received bread from Jesus’ hands. Peter received the cup of wine from Jesus’ hands. Peter received Jesus’ words from Jesus’ own heart—words that spoke of trust, affection, community, and solidarity, one with the other. Peter received all this and more as he sat with brothers in faith—Peter, renamed by Jesus for his bold confession of faith in him. That was at the dinner hour that evening.
Before the hour of morning, light dawned, and before the rooster crowed, Peter’s loyalty to Jesus crumbled. His voice, once filled with the conviction of faith, was now filled instead with the conviction of failure. The sound of the rooster was a wake-up call in more ways than one.
But it was more than the sound of a rooster in the distance—it was a look that shattered his heart. Jesus had been arrested on the streets of Jerusalem in a most memorable and holy place—the Mount of Olives, where he went to pray. No longer a free man, now a captive, a detainee, he was brought under guard to the house of the high priest. Peter followed “at a distance,” says Luke.[2]
The Rooster and the Look
At a distance—but not far enough to be out of sight of Jesus’ presence. I don’t know that Jesus could hear Peter’s first, second, or third betrayal: “…I do not know him.”[3] As if choreographed, the rooster crowed as Peter denied knowing Jesus not once, not twice, but three times.
That’s when it happened. That was Peter’s moment of truth. That was the very instant that exposed his failure. But the crushing pain he felt is recorded by Luke in a single, seemingly innocuous sentence:
“The Lord turned and looked at Peter.”[4]
Peter remembered—and it crushed his spirit, even his very soul. For Peter, it was the moment of his greatest, perhaps inevitable, betrayal. It came from fear, I suppose. Social pressure. Weakness. Human frailty. All those were present in Peter as he faced the convicting presence of his Lord.
The crowing of the rooster was the moment Peter became awake as conviction washed over him, pouring into the bitter tears of grief from his eyes.
The look of Jesus tells the story.
The tears of Peter tell the consequence.
The Grace That Restores
That single moment could have been the last in the relationship with Jesus. It maybe even should have been. I, too, have known betrayal—my own and that of others. But Jesus’ presence is not crushed or lost by Peter’s failure—or by mine or by yours. It was not the end of the relationship because Jesus’ heart is one of grace. Jesus’ steps are ones of restoration.
It was not judgment in Jesus’ eyes, but sadness—that his prediction of Peter’s betrayal would become a story Peter would remember all his life. Jesus sees Peter—but it is a look of heartbreak.
Let me ask you the question that I have asked myself all too often: Have you also stood in that courtyard? As I have—knowing failure, betrayal of covenant, denial, and more.
If you, too, know the feelings that I have felt and the look in Jesus’ eyes, then you need to hear the rest: Within a matter of hours or days, Jesus makes breakfast for Peter and the others. The question is not, “How could you, Peter? Why did you deny me after all we’ve been through?” It was not judgment on Peter: “I told you that betrayal was alive and well in your heart.”
It was grace. It was another chance. Not just a second chance—but for Peter, and for me, many chances have been given to us to return and be restored in the dawn of a new day.
“Peter, do you love me?”
“Keith, do you?”
Jesus Sees Us
Jesus saw Peter. Jesus sees me; Jesus sees you—not only in our moments of success, but in moments of failure, as he offers grace, forgiveness, and restoration again and again.
In the end, it is Jesus looking into your face and mine that matters. Peter turned to see Jesus’ eyes. There was no thunder or lightning—just a look.
A look that tore Peter’s heart and melted his very soul.
A look that caused Peter grief and sorrow he would never forget.
But it was not the last look that would come. For Peter did what we all must do: he repented of his betrayal; he repented of his sin. He received what Jesus longs to give all persons: grace, forgiveness, and love.
Practice:
When you pray for Jesus to be present, remember Peter—but more, remember that Jesus sees Peter.
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This spring, Keith Anderson and Rob Loane are creating space for leaders to tend the inner life together in A Leader’s Journey in a Fractured World. You can read more and register here.
Keith Anderson, D.Min., is a Faculty Associate for Spirituality and Vocation at VantagePoint3 and President Emeritus of Seattle School of Theology and Psychology. He is the author of several books, including his most recent: On Holy Ground: Your Story of Identity, Belonging and Sacred Purpose (Wipf & Stock, 2024). His other works include Reading Your Life’s Story (IVP, 2016), A Spirituality of Listening (IVP, 2016), and Spiritual Mentoring (IVP, 1999). In his writing, teaching, and mentoring, Keith seeks to set a table for people looking to enter the “amazing inner sanctuary of the soul” in the most ordinary and extraordinary moments of life.
[1] Psalm 27:9
[2] Luke 22:54
[3] Luke 22:57
[4] Luke 22:61