Warmed By The Wrong Fire
When the high priest questioned Jesus after His arrest in the garden of Gethsemane, Peter stood nearby,
warming himself by a charcoal fire with the servants and officials, waiting to see what the authorities would
do with Jesus.
Warming ourselves by the world's fire will inevitably shift our focus from Jesus to ourselves. We begin to
worry about what other people think of us. The thin space between a simple question and our unguarded
response can play out in hindsight like we never imagined. And the rooster's crow can haunt us in ways we
never thought possible.
Peter was shocked when the words left his lips. He didn't plan to deny Jesus--but fear kidnapped his faith.
No matter how subtle, fear will be what the enemy uses to diminish our witness. Fear of rejection, discomfort, forsakenness,
and persecution can cause us to quiet our testimony and blend in with the world around us.
The world can give a false sense of security, safety, even coziness. Its subtle blanket of warmth can begin to
slowly dim the light of Christ and quench the fire of the Holy Spirit. When we cuddle up with the world, it’s easy to see how frighteningly easy it was for Peter to say, "I don't know Him."
Love for Christ requires us to deny ourselves and sacrifice our comfort on the altar of our faith.
But how do we resist that pull? How can we be sure that our fear doesn't have the final say, and the rooster
will not be our fate? We must be careful that our comfort doesn't bring us a false sense of security and dull our
senses.
Boldness is the antidote for desensitization and will keep our passion alive.
If we lose passion, we lose our witness and thus blend in among all the other people just trying to stay warm.
The world's fire will always seem appealing--the glow of acceptance and the crowd's appeal. But the world's
fire will always require more and more kindling. You will end up sacrificing your beliefs to stay in the circle.
Peter was standing around a charcoal fire to keep warm--not just by the heat, but by blending in among the
crowd. It was safe. It was passive. And it was fear.
How are you keeping the flame of Christ ablaze in your life?
"You aren't one of this man's disciples, too, are you?" asked the servant girl, looking at Peter. He replied, "I am
not." It was cold, and the servants and officials stood around a fire they had made to keep warm. Peter was also
standing with them, warming himself. The chief priests were questioning Jesus nearby.
Meanwhile, Simon Peter was still standing there warming himself. So they asked him, "You aren't one of his
Disciples, too, are you?" He denied it, saying, "I am not."
One of the high priest's servants, a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off, challenged him, "Didn't I
See you with him in the garden?"
Again, Peter denied it, and at that moment, a rooster began to crow.
(John 18:15-27)
As the rooster crowed, Peter locked eyes with Jesus, and he was filled with instant regret. Scripture says that Peter wept bitterly. Maybe you’ve been there, too? Weeping bitterly over a choice you deeply regret. I know I have. But God, rich in mercy, offers us the undeserved gift of restoration—a rekindling of our faith and redemption for our bitter mistake of worshipping at the wrong fire.
So, how do we burn with passion for the One who rescued us from the grave? We cannot, and must not, allow the enemy to tie us to the world by enticing us with its false sense of warmth and alluring glow. Paul reminds us that we are children of the day, called to walk in marvelous Light.
We are the fire that draws people to Jesus. Like moths to a flame, people are drawn to light.
May our lives reflect the glory of Christ so clearly that lost souls are drawn to Him--the True source of Light and Life. A holy flame that will never burn out, and one that ignites revival, so that a sacred courage may rise from the ashes of shame and fear. And the world will be set ablaze by faith in the Light of the world!
Here’s to burning with zeal and rising with passion for the grace set before us.
You, my friend, are set apart and graced for more than you could ever imagine.