Peter must have been a blubbering mess on that late Thursday night preceding Jesus’ crucifixion. The brave man had lost his nerve in a moment of trial, and denied three times that he had any association with Jesus the Nazarene; even making his protestations with an oath. When the rooster crowed, as predicted, Jesus turned and looked at him, and that look caused Peter’s face to stream with bitter tears.

What the poor man was like on the Friday, when news from Calvary came in every hourly bulletin, must have been a torture to behold. If only he could have been like John, standing near the cross, owning his Master, and defying the grim stares of the soldiers and religious leaders. But he couldn’t, for guilt and self-recrimination had captured his soul: “You gutless wonder! You despicable blasphemer! You dirty rotten liar! You fraud!”

But the spell would break on the Sunday, and even before his soul would experience the relief and joy. Early on that resurrection day, the angel would say to the women: “Don’t be alarmed. You are looking for Jesus the Nazarene, who was crucified. He has risen! He is not here. See the place where they laid him. But go, tell his disciples and Peter.” What sweet words. “And Peter.” Grace would overcome. The Master’s large love would win the day. And how that poor heart must have swelled with hope when he heard the news. And may God give us hearts to hear it too.