Then Peter took him, and began to rebuke him, saying, Be it far from Thee, Lord:  this shall not be unto thee.  But he turned, and said unto Peter, Get thee behind me, Satan:  thou art an offence unto me:  for thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.’  St. Peter’s words, in the Greek tongue, really seem to mean that St. Peter fancied that he could protect our Lord; that he had the power of delivering him, by binding his enemies the Jews, and loosing the Lord himself.  That seems to have been the way in which he took our Lord’s words:  but what does our Lord answer?  As stern words as man could hear.  ’Get thee behind me, Satan; for thou art an offence unto me.’  Or, rather, thou art my stumbling-block.  So that St. Peter, while he fancied himself near to the angels, found out, to his shame, that he was behaving like a devil, and had to be called Satan to his face; and that while he thought he could save the Lord Jesus, he found that he was doing all he could to harm and ruin his master; trying to do the very work which the Devil tried to do, when he tempted the Lord Jesus in the wilderness.  So near beside each other do heaven and hell lie.  So easy is it to give place to the Devil, and fall into the worst of sin, just when we are puffed up with spiritual pride.

And more than once afterwards, St. Peter had to learn that same lesson; when, for instance, he leaped boldly overboard from the boat, and came walking towards Jesus on the sea.  That was noble:  worthy of St. Peter:  but he fancied himself a braver man than he was.  He became afraid; and the moment that he became afraid, he began to sink.  Jesus saved him, and then told him why he had become afraid:  because his faith had failed him.  He had ceased trusting in Christ’s power to keep him up; and became helpless at once.

That should have been a lesson to St. Peter, that he was not to be so very sure of his own faith and his own courage; that without his Lord he might become cowardly and helpless any moment:  but he did not take that gentle lesson; so he had to learn it once and for all by a very terrible trial.  We all know how he fell;—­one day protesting vehemently to his Lord, ’Though I die with thee, I will not deny thee;’ the next, declaring, with oaths and curses, ’I know not the man.’  No wonder that when Jesus turned and looked on him, Peter went out and wept bitterly, as bitter tears of shame as ever were shed on earth.  For he knew, he was sure, that he loved his Lord all along:  and now he had denied him.  He who was so bold and confident, to fall thus! and into the very sins most contrary to his nature! the very sins in which he would have expected least of all to fall!  He, so frank and honest and brave—­He to turn coward.  He to tell a base lie!  I dare say, that for the moment he could hardly believe himself to be himself.