John 18:13 - Meaning and Application

Here we have an account of Christ’s hearing before the high priest, along with some details the other Gospel writers did not include. Peter’s denial, which the others tell as a separate story, is woven in here with the rest. Since the charge against Jesus was about religion, the judges in the religious court claimed it belonged to them. Both Jews and Gentiles seized him, and both Jews and Gentiles tried and condemned him, because he died for the sins of both.

Now let us follow the story in order. After they seized him, they led him first to Annas, before they brought him to the court that was already waiting in Caiaphas’s house (John 18:13). They led him away like a trophy after victory, as if he were a captured enemy. They treated him like a lamb being led to slaughter, and they took him through the sheep gate mentioned in (Nehemiah 3:1), the way people went from the Mount of Olives into Jerusalem. They hurried him along with force, as if he were the worst criminal alive.

We had been led away by our own stubborn sins and held captive by Satan as he wanted. To rescue us, Christ was led away and handed over to Satan’s agents and tools. They led him to the ones who had sent them. It was around midnight, and they should have put him in custody first, as (Leviticus 24:12) required, until a proper court time could be set. Instead, they rushed him straight to the judges, not to be held for trial, but to be condemned.

Their violence was extreme. Part of the reason was that they feared someone might try to rescue him, so they wanted to leave no room for that. Another reason was their eager thirst for Christ’s blood, like an eagle rushing toward its prey. They led him to Annas first. His house may have been on the way, and perhaps they stopped there to rest, or, as some think, to receive payment for their service. Annas may also have been old and weak, unable to sit with the council in the middle of the night, yet still eager to see the prisoner.

It is sad when old and sick people can no longer sin as they once did, yet still take pleasure in the sins of others. Dr. Lightfoot thinks Annas was not present because he had to be at the temple early that morning to inspect the sacrifices that were to be offered, to see whether they were without defect. If so, there is a striking meaning here, because Christ, the great sacrifice, was brought before him and sent away bound, approved and ready for the altar.

This Annas was Caiaphas’s father-in-law, and that family tie may explain why Caiaphas had him honored with the first view of the prisoner. Or it may explain why Annas was willing to support Caiaphas in a matter he cared so much about. Familiarity and close ties with wicked people often strengthen others in their wicked ways.

Annas did not keep them waiting long. He was just as eager as they were to push the case forward, so he sent Jesus, still bound, to Caiaphas, to his house, which had been chosen as the meeting place of the council for this matter, or to the usual place in the temple where the high priest held court. The note in the margin suggests that this line may belong here: Annas had sent him. Caiaphas’s power is mentioned here because he was high priest that same year (John 18:13).

The high priest was normally appointed for life, but at that time the office changed hands so often, through the greedy scheming of men chasing power and through the rulers’ meddling, that it had become almost a yearly office. This was a sign that the office was nearing its end, as they kept pulling each other down. God was overturning them all so that the one whose right it is might come.

Caiaphas was high priest that same year when the Messiah was to be cut off. This shows two things. First, when a bad thing was to be done by a high priest, God’s foreknowledge ordered it so that a bad man would hold the office. Second, when God wanted to show the corruption in a wicked man’s heart, he placed him in power, where he had both the temptation and the chance to act on it. It was Caiaphas’s ruin that he was high priest that year, because that made him a leading voice in putting Christ to death. Many people have lost their good name through advancement, and they would have been less disgraced if they had never been promoted.

Caiaphas’s malice is also shown by repeating what he had said earlier, that it was better for one man to die for the people, whether he was guilty or innocent, a statement from (John 11:50). This is mentioned here to show what sort of man Caiaphas was. He ran himself and the church by policy and self-interest, openly ignoring fairness. It also shows how badly Christ would be treated in his court, since the case was decided before it was heard and they had already made up their minds. He must die, so his trial was only a show. In the same way, Christ’s enemies are determined to bring down his gospel, whether what they say about it is true or false.

Even so, Caiaphas’s words also witness to Jesus’ innocence. One of his worst enemies admitted that Jesus was being treated as a sacrifice for the public good, and that it was not just that he should die, only useful. Annas also shared in the guilt. He made himself a partner in it in two ways. First, he sided with the captain and officers who had bound Jesus without law or mercy, because he kept Jesus bound when he should have released him. Jesus had not been shown guilty of any crime, and he had not tried to escape.

If we do not do what we can to undo what others have done wrongly, we become partners in their wrong after the fact. It was more excusable for rough soldiers to bind Jesus than for Annas, who should have known better, to keep him bound. Second, Annas shared in the guilt of the chief priest and council who condemned Jesus and pursued his death. He was not there with them, but he wished them success, and so became a partner in their evil deeds.

In Caiaphas’s house, Simon Peter began to deny his Master (John 18:15-18). It took Peter great effort to get into the hall where the court was sitting, as the next verses show. Peter showed his love for Christ in two ways, though it did not turn out well. First, he followed Jesus when he was being led away. At first he fled with the others, but later he gathered some courage and followed at a distance. He remembered the promises he had made to stand by Christ, no matter what it cost him.

Those who had followed Christ when he was honored, and shared in that honor when the people cried, “Hosanna,” should also have followed him now when he was mocked and shamefully treated. Those who truly love and value Christ will follow him in every kind of weather, and in every path. When Peter could not get into the place where Jesus was surrounded by enemies, he stood at the door outside, wanting to stay as near as he could and waiting for a chance to come closer.

When we meet resistance in following Christ, we should still show good will. Yet Peter’s kindness was not real help, because he lacked the strength and courage to stay faithful. In the end, he only walked himself into danger. Even his following Christ was blameworthy, because Christ, who knew Peter better than Peter knew himself, had clearly told him, “Where I am going, you cannot follow me now” (John 13:36). Christ had also warned him several times that he would deny him, and Peter had already seen his own weakness when he left Jesus before. We must be careful not to test God by rushing into trouble beyond our strength, or by stepping too far into suffering. If God’s call is clear and we must expose ourselves to danger for him, we may trust that he will help us honor him. But if the call is not clear, we should fear that he may let us bring shame on ourselves.

The other disciple’s kindness to Peter was no kindness either. Since John often speaks of himself in this Gospel as “another disciple,” many interpreters have guessed that this was John. They have even made up reasons why he might have been known to the high priest, such as being of noble birth, or having sold property to him, or supplying his household with fish. But these ideas are very unlikely. I do not see reason to think this other disciple was John, or even one of the twelve. Christ had other sheep that were not of this fold. This may have been, as the Syriac reading suggests, one of those other disciples who believed in Christ, but lived in Jerusalem and stayed there, perhaps Joseph of Arimathea or Nicodemus, both known to the high priest, though not known by him as disciples of Christ.

There are many who seem to be disciples but are not. There are also many true disciples who do not seem like disciples at first glance. Good people are hidden in courts, even in Nero’s court, and also hidden in crowds. We should not conclude that a man is no friend of Christ simply because he is acquainted with Christ’s known enemies.

This other disciple, whoever he was, showed Peter a kindness by bringing him in. He may have wanted not only to satisfy Peter’s curiosity and affection, but also to give him a chance to help his Master during the trial, if needed. Those who truly care for Christ and his ways, even if they are quiet by nature and careful because of their situation, will still show where their heart is when called upon. They will be ready to do a known follower of Christ a good turn. Peter may once have introduced this disciple to Christ, and now the disciple repays that kindness. He is not ashamed to recognize Peter, even though Peter, at that moment, seems to have looked poor and discouraged.

But this kindness turned out to be no kindness, indeed a serious harm. By letting Peter into the high priest’s hall, he let him into temptation, and the result was bad. The kindnesses of friends often become traps for us when affection is not wisely guided.

Once Peter got in, temptation struck him at once, and he fell to it (John 18:17). The attack was small. It was only a servant girl, someone of such little account that she was assigned to keep the door, who challenged him. She only asked carelessly, “Aren’t you one of this man’s disciples?” She likely suspected it from his nervous look and timid way of coming in. Many times we would do better for a good cause if we had a better heart and could show more courage.

Peter would have had reason to panic if Malchus had confronted him and said, “This is the man who cut off my ear, and I will have his head for it.” But when only a maid asked, “Aren’t you one of them?” he could have answered safely, “What if I am?” Even if the servants had mocked him for it, those who cannot bear that much for Christ can bear very little. This was only running with the foot soldiers.

The surrender came very quickly. Without stopping to think, Peter suddenly said, “I am not.” If he had had a lion’s courage, he would have said, “It is my honor that I am one.” If he had had a serpent’s wisdom, he would have kept silent, because it was an evil time. But because his only concern was his own safety, he thought he could save himself only by a flat denial. He not only denied it, he seemed to reject the very idea, as if he scorned the girl’s question.

Then he went farther into the temptation: “And the servants and officers stood there, and Peter with them” (John 18:18). Notice how the servants took care of themselves. Since the night was cold, they made a fire in the hall, not for their masters, but for themselves. They were so busy persecuting Christ that they forgot the cold. They did not care what became of him, only about sitting down and warming themselves (Amos 6:6).

Notice also how Peter gathered himself with them and made himself one of the group. He sat down and warmed himself. It was bad enough that he did not stand by his Master and speak for him at the higher end of the hall, where Jesus was being questioned. He might have been a witness for him, and, if his Master had called him, he could have confronted the false witnesses who spoke against him. At the least, he might have observed everything closely and later told the other disciples, who could not get in to hear the trial. He might also have learned from his Master’s example how to behave when his own time of suffering came. Yet neither his conscience nor his curiosity brought him into the court. He sat aside, as if he, like Gallio, cared about none of it.

At the same time, we have reason to believe his heart was full of grief and concern, as much as it could hold. But he did not have the courage to show it. Lord, do not lead us into temptation. It was much worse that he joined himself to his Master’s enemies. He stood with them and warmed himself, as if that were a good excuse for keeping company with them. A small thing can draw into bad company those who are willing to be led there by the comfort of a warm fire.

If Peter’s zeal for his Master had not cooled, but had stayed as hot as it seemed just hours earlier, he would not now have needed to warm himself. Peter was greatly at fault for two reasons. First, he kept company with these wicked men. No doubt they were enjoying this night’s raid, mocking Christ, mocking what he had said and done, and celebrating their apparent victory over him. What kind of company would that be for Peter? If he said what they said, or stayed silent and agreed, he shared in their sin. If he did not, he placed himself in danger. If Peter lacked courage to stand openly for his Master, he still could have shown enough devotion to hide in a corner and weep quietly over his Master’s sufferings and over his own sin in abandoning him. If he could not do good, he at least could have stayed out of the way of doing harm. It is better to stay hidden than to appear where you will do no good, or worse, do harm.

Second, Peter wanted to seem like one of them, so no one would suspect that he was a disciple of Christ. Is this Peter? How strange this is, compared with the prayer of every good person, “Do not gather my soul with sinners” (Psalm 141:4). Saul among the prophets is not as strange as David among the Philistines. Those who fear the fate of mockers later on should fear the seat of mockers now. It is a bad thing to warm ourselves with those with whom we may end up burning ourselves.

After Peter, Christ’s friend, had begun to deny him, the high priest, his enemy, began to accuse him, or rather tried to make him accuse himself (John 18:19-21). It seems the first effort was to prove that he was a deceiver and a teacher of false doctrine, which this Gospel writer records. When that failed, they charged him with blasphemy, which the other Gospel writers record, so it is left out here. Notice the matters Christ was questioned about, his disciples and his teaching.

The whole process was irregular and against law and fairness. They seized him as if he were a criminal, and now that he was their prisoner, they had nothing real to charge him with. There was no formal accusation and no prosecutor, but the judge himself became the accuser, and the prisoner himself had to be the witness. Against all justice, he was pushed to accuse himself. The high priest then, since he had decided that Christ must be sacrificed to their private hatred under the cover of public good, questioned him on matters that could threaten his life. He asked about Christ’s disciples so he could accuse him of stirring up rebellion and make him seem dangerous to both the Roman government and the Jewish church. He asked who his disciples were, how many there were, where they came from, and what their names and character were, hinting that his followers were really soldiers in training and could one day become a serious force.

Some think the high priest’s question about the disciples meant, “What has become of them? Where are they? Why do they not appear?” That would be a cruel way of blaming Christ with the cowardice of those who deserted him. There was something meaningful in this, that Christ’s calling and owning his disciples was the first thing laid against him, because he had sanctified himself and suffered for their sake.

The high priest also questioned him about his teaching, so they could accuse him of false doctrine and bring him under the law against false prophets (Deuteronomy 13:9-10). That was properly a matter for that court (Deuteronomy 17:12), which is why a prophet could not perish anywhere but in Jerusalem, where that court met. They could not prove any false teaching against him, but they hoped to trap him into saying something they could twist against him, and so make him an offender because of some word he spoke (Isaiah 29:21). They said nothing about his miracles, by which he had done so much good and proved his teaching beyond question, because they knew they could not make use of them. In the same way, Christ’s enemies often keep arguing against his truth while willfully ignoring the evidence that supports it.

Christ answered these questions with an appeal. As for his disciples, he said nothing, because the question was beside the point. If his teaching was sound, then having disciples to receive it was no more than what their own teachers did. If Caiaphas, the high priest, asked about his disciples in order to trap them and bring them into trouble, Christ kept silent for their good, since he had already said, “Let these go” (John 18:8). If the high priest meant to shame him by pointing to their cowardice, Christ also said nothing, because some insults cannot be answered.

As for his teaching, Christ did not answer in detail, but spoke in general and pointed to those who had heard him, since he was not only known by God but also known in their consciences (John 18:20-21). He quietly showed that his judges were acting against the law. He did not insult the rulers of the people or openly say to these leaders, “You are wicked,” but he appealed to the fair rules of their own court. It was as if he asked, “Do you really judge fairly?” (Psalm 58:1). His words meant two things were wrong with their judgment. First, “Why ask me now about my teaching, when you have already condemned it?” They had already made a court order to put out anyone who confessed him (John 9:22), and had also sent out a command to arrest him. Now they were asking what his teaching was. So he was being condemned, as his cause often is, without being heard. Second, “Why ask me? Must I accuse myself when you have no evidence against me?”

He also defended himself by pointing to the open way he had taught. The law said the court should look for secret spreading of dangerous ideas, teaching in hiding, and drawing people away secretly (Deuteronomy 13:6). On that point, Christ cleared himself fully. As for the manner of his preaching, he spoke openly, with freedom and plain speech. He did not speak in unclear riddles, as Apollo was said to give his answers. Those who want to weaken the truth and spread false ideas usually do it by sly hints, questions, and complaints, while saying nothing plainly. Christ, however, explained himself fully, saying, “Truly, truly, I say to you.” His rebukes were open and bold, and his witness was clear against the sins of the time.

Second, consider the people he preached to. He spoke to the whole world, to everyone willing to hear, high or low, educated or uneducated, Jew or Gentile, friend or enemy. His teaching did not fear the criticism of a mixed crowd, and he did not withhold knowledge from anyone, as some people do with a rare invention. Instead, he gave it freely, like the sun giving out its light.

Third, consider the places he preached in. When he was in the country, he usually preached in the synagogues, the meeting places for worship, and on the Sabbath, the day of worship. When he came to Jerusalem, he preached the same teaching in the temple during the solemn feasts, when Jews gathered there from many places. He also often preached in private houses, on mountains, and by the sea, showing that his word and worship were not limited to temples and synagogues. Yet what he taught in private was exactly the same as what he taught in public.

The doctrine of Christ, when it is preached clearly and plainly, does not need to be ashamed in the largest crowd. It carries its own strength and beauty. What Christ’s faithful ministers say, they should be willing for the whole world to hear. Wisdom still cries in public places, where people gather (Proverbs 1:21; Proverbs 8:3; Proverbs 9:3).

Fourth, consider the teaching itself. He said nothing in secret that went against what he said in public. Any private teaching was only a repetition or fuller explanation. He was not hiding anything, as if he doubted the truth of it or knew it was harmful. He sought no secret corners, because he had nothing to be ashamed of. What he told his disciples in private, he had ordered them to proclaim from the rooftops (Matthew 10:27). God says of himself, “I have not spoken in secret” (Isaiah 45:19). His command is not hidden (Deuteronomy 30:11). In the same way, the righteousness that comes by faith speaks openly (Romans 10:6). As Tertullian said, truth fears nothing except being hidden.

He also appeals to those who had heard him and asks that they be questioned about what he taught, and whether it was really as dangerous as claimed. “Ask those who heard me what I said to them,” he says. Some of them may be in court, or they may be sent for from their beds. He does not mean his friends and followers, who would naturally speak in his favor, but any fair listener, even their own officers. Some think he pointed to them when he said, “See, they know what I said,” referring to the report they had once made about his teaching, “Never man spoke like this man” (John 7:46). He might even mean some of the judges themselves, since some of them likely heard him and were left speechless by him.

So Christ’s teaching can safely appeal to all who know it. It has so much truth and reason on its side that honest judges cannot help but testify to it.

While the judges were questioning him, the servants standing by were mistreating him (John 18:22, John 18:23). One of the officers gave him a shameful insult. Even though Jesus spoke with calmness and clear proof, this rude man struck him on the side of the head or face with his hand and said, “Is that how you answer the high priest?” He acted as if Jesus had been disrespectful to the court.

He struck him. The word means he gave him a blow, and some think it was with a rod or staff, which fit his office. In this, Scripture was fulfilled: “I gave my cheeks to those who struck me” (Isaiah 50:6). It also matches the prophecy, “They shall strike the judge of Israel on the cheek” (Micah 5:1). Job also described the same kind of insult (Job 16:10). It was unjust to strike someone who had done no wrong, insulting for a servant to strike a man of honor, cowardly to strike a prisoner with tied hands, and cruel to strike a man standing trial. This was a public breach of peace, and the judges allowed it.

We deserved shame, but Christ took that shame on himself. “Upon me be the curse, the shame.”

The officer also spoke in a harsh, commanding way: “Is that how you answer the high priest?” He acted as if Jesus were not worthy to speak to his master, or as if he did not know how to speak properly and needed correction from a jailer. Some older writers suggest this officer was Malchus, the man whose ear Jesus had healed, and yet he returned that mercy with this evil act. Whoever he was, he was trying to please the high priest and win favor with him. Wicked rulers do not lack wicked servants, who help carry out persecution. A later high priest would command the bystanders to strike Paul in the mouth in the same way (Acts 23:2).

Some think this officer felt offended by Christ’s appeal to the people around him, as if Jesus had called them as witnesses for him. Perhaps he had once spoken well of Jesus, as in John 7:46, and now, to avoid seeming like a secret friend, he showed himself to be a bitter enemy.

Christ bore this insult with wonderful gentleness and patience (John 18:23). He said, “If I have spoken evil, prove the evil. Show it to the court, and let the proper judges decide. But if I spoke well, why do you strike me?” Christ could have answered with a miracle of anger. He could have struck the man dead or made his hand wither. But this was the time of his suffering and patience, and he answered with meek wisdom. He teaches us not to seek revenge, not to return insult for insult, but to bear wrongs with the innocence of a dove, while still using the wisdom of a serpent to show the wrong clearly and appeal to the magistrate.

Christ did not literally turn the other cheek here, which shows that Matthew 5:39 should not be taken in a purely literal way. A person may turn the other cheek and still keep a heart full of malice. By comparing Christ’s teaching with his own example, we learn two things. First, in such cases we must not take revenge ourselves or act as judges in our own case. We should be more ready to receive a second blow than to give one, since that is what turns a dispute into a quarrel. We may defend ourselves, but we must not seek revenge. The magistrate is the one appointed to avenge wrong, if this is needed to keep public peace and restrain evil doers (Romans 13:4). Second, our response to injury must always be reasonable, never driven by passion. Christ’s response was like that. When he suffered, he reasoned, but he did not threaten.

He reasoned with the person who wronged him, and we may do the same. When we are called to suffer, we must adapt to the hardships of a suffering life with patience. If one insult comes, we should be ready for another, and we should learn to bear it as best we can.

While the servants were abusing Jesus, Peter was moving on to deny him again, in John 18:25-27. It is a sad account, and one of the heavier parts of Christ’s suffering. He repeated the sin a second time, John 18:25. As he warmed himself with the servants, almost as one of them, they asked him, “Are you also one of his disciples? What are you doing here among us?” He may have heard that Jesus was being questioned about his disciples, and he may have feared being seized or struck like his Master if he admitted it. So he plainly denied it and said, “I am not.”

This shows Peter’s great folly in putting himself in the way of temptation. He kept company with people who were not fit for him and who had no good purpose for him there. He stayed to warm himself, but those who warm themselves with evil people grow cold toward good people and good things. Those who sit by the devil’s fire are in danger from the devil’s fire. Peter might have stood beside his Master at the trial and been warmed better there, by the fire of his Master’s love, which many waters could not quench (Song of Solomon 8:6, Song of Solomon 8:7). There he could have warmed himself with zeal for Christ and anger toward his persecutors. But he chose to warm himself with them instead of warming himself against them. Yet how could one disciple be warm alone? (Ecclesiastes 4:11)

It was also Peter’s sad misfortune that the temptation came again, and that was to be expected, because this was a place and hour of testing. When the judge asked Jesus about his disciples, the servants likely took the hint and challenged Peter as one of them. Here we see the skill of the tempter, who presses harder on someone already slipping. It was not one maid this time, but all the servants. When we yield to one temptation, we invite another, and often a stronger one. Satan redoubles his attacks when we give him ground.

We also see the danger of bad company. We usually try to win approval from the people we choose to be with, and we let their opinion guide us. The people we choose shape the praise we seek. So we must choose carefully and avoid joining ourselves to those we cannot please without displeasing God.

It was Peter’s great weakness, indeed his great sin, to give in and say, “I am not one of his disciples.” He acted as if ashamed of what was really his honor, and as if he feared suffering for it, which would have been an even greater honor. This is how the fear of man brings a snare. When Christ was admired, honored, and treated with respect, Peter was happy to be known as his disciple, and perhaps even took some pride in sharing his Master’s honor. Many do the same, admiring religion when it is popular, but feeling ashamed of its shame when it is costly. We must take religion in both its honor and its reproach.

He repeated the sin a third time, in John 18:26-27. This time one of the servants, a relative of Malchus, the man whose ear Peter had cut off, challenged him strongly. When he heard Peter deny being Christ’s disciple, he flatly contradicted him: “Did I not see you in the garden with him?” Peter then denied it again, as if he knew nothing of Christ, nothing of the garden, and nothing of the whole matter. This third attack was closer than the others. Before, his connection with Christ was only suspected. Now it was being proved by someone who had seen him with Jesus and had seen him draw his sword in Jesus’ defense.

Those who try to escape trouble by sinning only make their trouble worse. Truth will come out. A bird of the air may tell what we try to hide with a lie.