4. Denial

With care and caution, following far back
Behind the Lamb of God who now before
The Sanhedrin was speaking wisdom’s pearl,
Peter, disciple headstrong, knowing not
What he did say when faced with knowledge that
Brought outrage, horror, difficulty sore
To what he thought should be or never be,
Entered the courtyard feeling night’s long chill
In body and in mind of confused state
And longing for some tender warmth to bring
Comfort and solace to escape the thought
That his beloved Saviour might for him
And all of humankind suffer most foul
At Roman hands, aided and abetted
By Sanhedrin in their denial of
The nature and the kingship of the Lamb
Which to their minds most blasphemous did seem,
Now saw before his eyes a fire bright
Encircled by officials and servants
Of Caiaphas and Annas who did, and
Who would search Him, with minds that would be closed
To truth eternal, allowing only
Their own interpretation of what they
Perceived as being of Yahweh’s own mind.
Peter sat down within the throng to keep
Temporal warmth to banish from his mind
And body, chill of night long, dark and bare
And unaware that his actions would bring
Forth the fulfilment of all that the Lamb
Of God had prophesied during the feast
Of Passover, his counsel kept, fearing
For his own life, spoke he but not a word.
Yet he could not his personage conceal
From eyes which, like sharp daggers, pierce and lunge,
Eyes of a servant girl who with the throng
Also had need of warmth against the cold,
Yet whose eyes brought a chill to Peter’s heart
A chill of fear of recognition of
His true identity, a disciple
Of Jesus, Lamb of God, now he did try
To push away those eyes that gazed on him
Which were intent to unmask his true self
And unto him, the servant girl did say:
“Surely were you not with the Nazarene,
The man called Jesus, who is now before
The high priest and the Sanhedrin who for
The sake of our great nation must preserve
The truth from error which, so it is said,
Comes from the lips from Him, of Galilee
Who stands accused of preaching doctrine which
Unto our eyes, is perverse and extreme.
Are you not one of this man’s disciples?
Speak truth, do not deny just who you are!”
And to the throng assembled round the fire,
She spoke: “This man was with him”, to which they
Gave vent to their suspicions which did cause
Peter to speak denial over truth:
“Woman, what do you know, you have no proof
Of who I am, for I have never seen
Or know just who you are, and for the man
Of whom you speak, yet I do know him not.
Begone and keep your counsel to yourself
And let me be, I have much need of warmth
To keep away the cold of this harsh night.”
Terror and fear surrounded Peter now,
Gone was the warmth he craved, now only sweat
Like that of fever, poured down from his brow
And tension, like a vice, gripped heart and soul
As Satan, as was prophesied, began
To sift like wheat, Peter’s bedraggled soul
Into a pulp like millstones as they crush
And grind the wheaten ears to powder which
To Satan’s disadvantage would become
The finest bread to set before the King
Of Kings and Lord of Lords, such were the prayers
Of Jesus, Lamb of God, in response to
Satan’s request before the golden throne
Of Yahweh, who did grant but limited
Access to Peter’s soul, and protection
Divine to keep him from the serpent’s wiles
And in fulfilment of the prayers of Him
With heart as pure as burnished gold would keep
Faith with the keeper of the Kingdom’s keys.
Now Peter, sensing eyes full fixed on him
By all who stood around the fire, did go
Unto the gateway to distance himself
In hope forlorn from those accusing eyes.
His actions would serve only to bring down
Upon himself unmasking of his true
Identity, for such an act as this
Can only serve to show the truth of what
They did perceive within their minds and hearts.
Another of the throng came up to him
And with all-seeing and all-knowing mind
Spoke unto him such words as would reveal
The truth of it, so was it said to him:
“You also are but one of them, surely
For have you not followed us from afar,
Yet by your actions to escape our gaze
You have betrayed yourself. You cannot say
That you do not know Him, for you were with
The others who are now scattered like sheep.
For now the shepherd has been struck, and you
Are now a scattered animal, bereft
Of any hope to which you once held dear.”
And to the throng not far away, these words
Were spoken: “This fellow is one of them.”
Peter, now close to rage, spat out these words:
“I am not one of them of whom you speak,
The words which came from Zechariah’s lips
Do not apply to me or those to whom
You did refer to earlier in your
Tirade against myself and who I am,
Yet you do not know me and I do not
Know of the man to whom you constantly
Bring to my weary self, now let me be
In my own company, begone from me
And stay with your own kind, keep far from me.”
The sifting thus continued, merciless
For Peter whose soul, troubled more and more
Could not return to fire warm and bright
For him, was now denied the ardent glow
Of golden flame yet once again the prayers
Of Jesus, Lamb of God, would come to aid
In future time, and rescue this poor soul
And with his friends there would descend for all
Time and eternity the Holy Fire
Which promised was to all who put their faith
And trust in Him, pure tongues to utter forth
Praise, prophecy, knowledge and wisdom true
And all of Heaven’s fruitfulness bestowed
In bounty limitless upon the sons
And daughters of the King of Paradise.
One long hour passed, and no sign of escape
From truth’s sharp point, once more to be run through
The heart of Peter, now the assembled throng
Came unto him, convinced were they of his
Identity, and ready to tease out
The truth despite denials from the lips
Of him who, locked still in the iron grip
Of fear and terror, tried to shield himself
From knowing questions, they said unto him:
“We heard this Jesus speak, such was His voice
Akin to how you speak, from Nazareth
He comes from, down in Lower Galilee
Your accent it betrays you, speak the truth:
You are a Galilean, we cannot
And will not be denied.” A servant of
The high priest and a relative of him
Whom Peter had with sword struck off the ear,
Did challenge him and said: “Did I not see
You in the olive grove, Gethsemane?
Did not your Jesus by rebuke tell you
To put your sword away, and then did heal
The injury inflicted? You are one
Of his disciples. Once again, speak plain.”
Within the heart of Peter, a rumbling
That grew and grew until like lava flow
Erupting from volcanic crater which
Together with ashes and dust cloud would
Descend with torrents killing all that lay
Within its path, so Peter’s voice did rise,
Spitting out curses, rage unparalleled:
“Away from me you dogs, out of my sight!
I do not know this man, you do not know
Of what you speak about, plainly I say
I do not know the man of whom you speak,
He knows me not, neither do I know him.
Leave me in peace, I do not care for what
You say. The night is almost done and I
Away must go. This is no place for me.”
Slowly the crowd dispersed, and all alone
Stood Peter, now the fire was all but gone.
The silence which surrounded him gave way
To solitary cockerel which crowed,
The sound of the approach of truth toward
The dazed disciple, helpless and forlorn.
Head spinning with confusion, he looked up
And there before his eyes now stood the Lamb
Escorted by the temple guard, a look
Of love and knowing, and yet pitiful
Of Peter’s poor state. Now the Lamb was gone,
Taken away for further questioning
By Roman Procurator, in whose hands
Lay final judgement and authority.
Truth, like the daybreak clear, now rested on
The mind of Peter, realisation’s dawn,
Remembrance of the Lamb’s right prophecy
Took hold of him, denial now laid waste
And seen for what it was, a single tear
Flowed down his face, and then a second one
Until, like rage beforehand, there now came
A flood of weeping bitterness. Peter
Ran outside from the courtyard there to hide
In some poor nook away from gazing eyes
And uttered forth a river of pure grief
Unending torrent, fuelled by the fact
That he had now denied the Lamb of God,
His shallow promises to serve the Lord
Even to prison and to death also
Laid waste by truth, a bitter climax to
Events begun in olive grove and which
Would find their full completion in the death
And resurrection of the Lamb of God.