by Jay Therrell, Conference Superintendent

MARCH 30, 2026 

Holy Week leads us toward Good Friday, and Good Friday is a difficult day. It is, without a doubt, the most solemn day of the Christian year. It’s a day saturated with sin, torture, deception, betrayal, and ultimately death. The shadow of Jesus hanging on the cross looms long and wide over this day.

In the middle of that horrible day was Peter, and I imagine Good Friday was quite possibly the worst day of his life. It began for him just as it did for Jesus: in the Garden of Gethsemane. Jesus had asked Peter to come away with Him and pray as He was preparing for Good Friday, and in that special and important moment, Peter fell asleep, just as the other disciples did.

I’ve always thought that Peter was so embarrassed with failing Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane that when the Temple Guards came to arrest Jesus, he tried to fix his mistake by boldly, and we might even say foolishly, grabbing a sword and swinging it at a guard, cutting his ear off.

If that wasn’t enough, Peter then scattered just like the other disciples as Jesus was taken into custody. He was afraid that he, too, might be arrested and tortured or killed. After a foolish attempt at protecting Jesus, Peter left Jesus high and dry.

Perhaps the worst moment of all for Peter, other than Jesus’ crucifixion later in the day, came when not once, not twice, but three times, Peter denied and betrayed Jesus – just as Jesus predicted He would. To make it all that much worse, Luke tells us that on the third denial, Peter was close enough to Jesus to see Jesus look directly at Him. I’m not sure I can even begin to fathom the depth of embarrassment and shame that Peter felt.

Yet, Peter on Good Friday has much to teach us. The truth is that in Peter we find all of us – you and me.

Peter’s Sin Is Yours and My Sin, Too

Peter’s sin is one that every single one of us deals with at various times in our lives. In fact, I’ll double down, Peter’s sin early on the morning of Good Friday is the root sin of all sins. Peter faced the ugly sin of pride.

At dinner just a few hours earlier, while Jesus was celebrating what we would call The Last Supper, we read in Luke 22:31-34,

“Simon, Simon, look! Satan has asserted the right to sift you all like wheat. However, I have prayed for you that your faith won’t fail. When you have returned, strengthen your brothers and sisters.” Peter responded, “Lord, I’m ready to go with you, both to prison and to death!” Jesus replied, “I tell you, Peter, the rooster won’t crow today before you have denied three times that you know me.”

Peter was prideful. He was overconfident. When a person says, “That’s one thing I’ll never do,” that’s almost always the very thing against which the person should very carefully guard. You’ve heard the old adage that pride goes before the fall? History is full of stories – many of them – where fortresses and castles were conquered because the attackers took the route which seemed unattackable and unscalable, and at that very spot the defenders were off their guard.

Satan is subtle. He’s sneaky. He’s cunning. He knows to attack us at the point where we’re too sure of ourselves because those are the places in our lives where we’re most likely to be unprepared. Peter was warned that He would fall, and yet he was self-reliant. He thought he could battle sin on his own. And he fell. What’s worse is that in a few hours, Peter would know that Jesus was dying on a cross under excruciating pain, all while Peter’s last interaction was to deny Him.

What about you and me? The truth is that we all deal with pride on various levels. It’s a sneaky sin. It slithers into our souls often without us even realizing it. We don’t have to be as bold as Peter to proclaim that we would never fall. It can happen when we encounter others daily, and we think, “At least I don’t have to worry about that.” Or it can happen, especially after we’ve been Christians for a while. We come to church regularly. We’ve got the hang of this worship thing. We might even go to a life group or Sunday school class. We serve in a ministry now and then. We put a few bucks in the offering plate. We begin to think, “I’m doing pretty well.”

Then we see this: the cross. We remember that the goal of the Christian life is to become like Jesus. We realize that means picking up our cross and denying ourselves. It means seeking and practicing humility daily and continuously – which doesn’t mean thinking less of yourself. It means thinking of others first. It means remembering what Jesus said in the Upper Room just a few hours before going to the cross when He said, “This is my commandment: love each other just as I have loved you. No one has greater love than to give up one’s life for one’s friends.” We realize that to love like Jesus means that we’re willing to give our all.

When we hold ourselves up to that standard – at least when I hold myself up to that standard – I cringe. I’m so selfish. I put myself first all the time. I put Jesus last all the time. Suddenly, I’m just like Peter, realizing how I betray Jesus all the time. I look at the cross, especially this week, and I imagine Jesus hanging there humiliated and in more pain than I can imagine, and I remember those words Luke used to describe Jesus when the rooster crowed, “The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter, and Peter remembered the Lord’s words: “Before a rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And Peter went out and cried uncontrollably.”

I’m reminded once more that the penalty of sin is not the face of anger. It’s not Jesus furious with us, with arms folded and shouting. The penalty of sin is Jesus looking straight at me with heartbreak in His eyes because I’ve let Him down. Peter betrayed Jesus, but I do, too.

Where There’s Love, There’s Hope

I’ve been hard on Peter. He doesn’t come off looking so good, especially in this story, but to be fair, I think we have to say that his intentions were honorable and filled with courage. He was the only disciple to defend Jesus as Jesus was arrested. He dared to go to the High Priest’s house that morning. It was extremely dangerous for him to be there. His life was in jeopardy. Even after being recognized twice, Peter still didn’t leave. He still stayed, trying to watch what the Jewish ruling leaders were doing to Jesus. Yes, Peter messed up royally. Yes, we mess up royally. Yes, our messes, our sins, crucify Jesus as surely as we were members of the Sanhedrin or Pontius Pilate.

But when there’s love, there’s hope. Peter had a deep and abiding love for Jesus. It was that love that allowed Him to be restored after the resurrection. It was that love that allowed Peter to go on and lead the disciples and be the head of the church. There is hope for the person who, even when sinning, still loves Jesus. There was great hope for Peter. Because of Jesus’ act on the cross, there is hope for you and me, too.

Jesus’s Death = Redemption

Lastly, I want us to understand that because Jesus died on the cross, there is redemption. There was redemption for Peter, and there’s redemption for you and me. Luke told us Peter left the high priest’s house crying uncontrollably. There’s a legend that people would imitate a rooster crowing as Peter walked through a crowd, but Peter had a devotion to Jesus that led him to lean on God for transformation. It allowed Peter to start from failure and be greatly used by God.

Here’s the essence of what I’m talking about. It was the real Peter who boldly said in the Upper Room that he would defend Jesus. It was the real Peter who swung that sword at the temple guard to protect Jesus. It was the real Peter who risked his life to go to the high priest’s house so Jesus would not be alone.

It was not the real Peter who denied Jesus. That was a broken Peter. That was a Peter whose flaws temporarily won a victory. Thankfully, that’s what Jesus sees in all of us. The best thing about Jesus is that beneath all of our flaws, He sees the real you and me. He loves us despite what we do because He loves us – not for what we are, but what we have it in us to be. Jesus proved on that Good Friday that His forgiveness is so great that He sees our real personality, not in our fruitfulness, but in our love, and not in our sins but in our seeking to follow Him, even when temporarily we are defeated. He proved love triumphs over our sins, and His forgiveness knows no bounds.

Good Friday is a hard day. It’s a day saturated with sin, torture, deception, betrayal, and ultimately death. But it’s also a day saturated in love – love so amazing, so divine. It changed the world and can change you and me.

All God’s love,

Jay