Based on a sermon from our Matthew series: Matthew 26:69–27:10
When Failure Won’t Stay Buried
How do you feel when you know you’ve messed up? You know the moment. You said something you shouldn’t have said. It came out of your mouth before you could stop it—and now it’s out there, echoing in your mind. Or you did something you knew wasn’t right, and you can’t undo it. You feel it in the pit of your stomach. That sinking heaviness. That ache.
It’s not good, is it?
That’s what it feels like when we fail even our own sense of right and wrong. But what about when we fail the ways God calls us to live? Same feeling—only sharper, deeper, heavier. Whether or not you believe in God, we all know that experience of spectacular failure—those big, unforgettable moments that replay in your mind at 2am when you’re tired or stressed.
So what do we do with our failures?
Often, because shame surrounds our failures, especially in achievement-driven cultures like ours, we’re not very honest about them. We don’t want others to know. So we stuff them away. Somewhere inside, we find a dusty backroom of the heart, toss our failures in, slam the door shut, lock it, and walk away.
But sealed-off rooms don’t stay quiet forever.
What’s behind the door speaks:
“You’re not good enough.”
“You’ll never change.”
“If you were honest, you’d get hurt.”
“You must earn your way back by being good.”
“Whatever you do, don’t let anyone know the real you.”
And those voices? They don’t just shame us. They shape us. They affect our decisions, relationships, ambitions, and fears. The failures themselves hold us back—but so do the lingering effects of guilt and shame. And if nothing interrupts the cycle, eventually it becomes the death of us.
But the good news of this passage is that Jesus comes to take away both the failures themselves and their effects. Through his death and resurrection, he gives us a way back—every time.
In this passage, Matthew shows us two big ideas:
Jesus is so good—so worthy—that we should never disown or betray Him.
But when we do disown or betray Him, we can still run back to Him—and find mercy.
If you’re exploring faith, especially if you’re part of our church in Manchester, this story is for you.
Disowning Jesus: Peter’s Failure (Matthew 26:69–75)
The Moment Everything Breaks
Right after Jesus’ arrest, Peter follows Him—at a distance. He ends up in a sort of ancient-world pub or courtyard. The chaos of the arrest has died down. People chat. Fires burn. It’s crowded.
A servant girl approaches Peter: “You were with Jesus, weren’t you?”
“No,” he says. “I don’t know Him.”
You and I can understand why, can’t we? Jesus has just been arrested. Peter is afraid of being arrested too.
Another server recognises him and says to the others, “This man was with Jesus.”
Peter doubles down: “I swear I don’t know Him!”
Then the crowd starts murmuring. They recognise Peter’s Galilean accent—maybe he said “mint” one too many times.
So Peter stands up and explodes: “I swear to God I don’t know that man!”
This isn’t mild hesitation. It’s emphatic disowning—a verbal cutting of ties. The NIV titles it well: Peter disowns Jesus. Then the rooster crows.
Peter remembers Jesus’ words—that this would happen before dawn. He realises what he has done. He can’t even admit being with Jesus to a powerless servant girl.
He leaves. Alone. And he weeps—bitterly.
The Feeling We All Know
You know that feeling. When something you were so sure about suddenly isn’t sure anymore. When the thing you’ve been working toward was actually the wrong thing. When you lie in bed at night and feel regret physically in your stomach.
The Bible doesn’t hide human failure—Peter’s or ours.
And when we fail, our first instinct is always the same as Peter’s: to hide. To withdraw. To get alone. To cry in secret. But hiding never heals.
The Call to Self-Denial
Interestingly, the Greek word for “deny” is the same word Jesus used when He said: “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself.”
Peter should be denying himself—but instead he denies Christ.
We do this too. We are called to be selfless, but when we deny Jesus, we become self-absorbed. We’re either full of God or full of ourselves. And following ourselves eventually leads to weeping bitterly.
Think for a moment: Where are you denying Jesus in your life? Where are you hiding—maybe even from yourself?
Shame tells us: “Hide.” “Be alone.” “Don’t let anyone know.”
But here’s the astonishing truth: Peter’s failure doesn’t end his story. He tries to be done with Jesus, but Jesus is not done with him.
Later, after the resurrection, Peter will be restored. And in Acts 4, Peter speaks with such courage that people marvel. Acts 4:13 says:
“They were astonished and took note that these men had been with Jesus.”
The very accusation Peter denied becomes the badge of honour he wears for the rest of his ministry.
If you follow Jesus, know this: There is no place you can go that God cannot bring you back from.
Betraying Jesus: Judas’ Tragedy (Matthew 27:3–10)
Remorse, But No Repentance
Judas now feels remorse. After betraying Jesus—after handing him over to liars and murderers—he is overwhelmed with guilt. He tries to return the thirty pieces of silver.
His path, which required betrayal, has now betrayed him.
He confesses: “I have sinned. I have betrayed innocent blood.”
But instead of responding with compassion, the religious leaders dismiss him: “That’s your responsibility.”
They used him. Now they discard him. Judas throws the silver into the temple and leaves. Alone. Hopeless. Consumed by shame. He takes his own life. This is the devastating power of sin: it isolates, crushes, destroys.
Even the religious leaders show hypocrisy. They wouldn’t accept Judas’ blood money back, claiming it was “not lawful” to put it into the temple treasury—despite having used that same money for corruption and lies.
They care more about the temple building than about the God of the temple.
What We Do With Our Betrayal
All of us betray Jesus at times. Every time we choose our own path over His, we actively betray Him.
And in our betrayal, we often hear the same haunting words: “It’s your responsibility.”
And in one sense, that’s true. Sin is our responsibility—initially.
But here’s the tragedy: Judas carries the full weight of his sin himself. He tries to deal with it on his own. And it destroys him.
The Christian message is different: Your sin is your responsibility… until you give it to Jesus.
This is one of the reasons Jesus died—to take the crushing burden of our guilt, so we don’t have to be destroyed by it. The question becomes: Will you run to the Lord—or keep death on your shoulders?
Peter and Judas: The Difference Between Remorse and Repentance
Matthew intentionally places Peter and Judas side by side. Two men who follow Jesus. Two failures. Two responses.
Both feel remorse.
Both feel the sting of guilt.
Both see their sin.
But only one responds with repentance.
Judas acknowledges his sin, but he never seeks Jesus. He never returns to the disciples. He remains alone. His remorse stays self-contained, self-focused—and it crushes him.
Peter, however, though he weeps bitterly, remains within reach of Jesus. His life is shaped by discipleship—even through failure. And after the resurrection, Peter returns. And Jesus restores him.
That’s the difference. Remorse alone is unbearable. Repentance leads to restoration. Remorse is looking at yourself. Repentance is turning toward Jesus. We all experience remorse. It builds up over the years. Unprocessed, it leads to bitterness, cynicism, loneliness, despair. But the Christian has somewhere to take remorse—a person who lifts the burden.
As one of Redeemer’s articles puts it, the Christian life is one of continual turning back to God’s mission and grace.
Where Is Jesus in All This?
While Peter is denying Jesus, and Judas is drowning in guilt, Jesus is enduring His own suffering.
“Jesus was bound.”
“Jesus was led away.”
“Jesus was handed over.”
Why?
Jesus Was Bound So We Could Be Free
Your sin—the weight that crushes—He carried all of it. Every failure. Every betrayal. Every regret. The agony you feel over one sin multiplied by the sins of the world—He took that willingly.
Jesus Was Led Away So He Could Lead Us to God
We hide in shame. But Jesus enters our lonely places and says, “Follow me.”
Jesus Was Handed Over to Injustice So We Could Be Delivered from It
The worst injustice you experience is often the one you do to yourself—carrying guilt that Jesus already paid for. He frees us from that.
If you want to explore more about what it means to follow Jesus, this article is a great place to start: What Does It Mean to Be a Christian?
Conclusion: Running Back to the One Who Runs Toward Us
Both Peter and Judas failed spectacularly. But only Peter’s story ends with restoration—because he turned back. The difference between despair and hope is not how badly you’ve failed, but where you run afterwards.
When you fail—and you will—run to Jesus. Not away from Him.
And if you’re in Manchester and want to find a community where you can be honest about failure, ask hard questions, and explore hope, you might find a home at a church in Manchester like Redeemer. We are a community that believes failure isn’t final because Jesus offers forgiveness, restoration, and new life.
Wherever you are, whatever is behind the locked door in your heart—Jesus already knows. And He calls you out of hiding.
He was bound so you can be free.
He was led away so He could lead you home.
He faced injustice so you could receive mercy.
So bring Him your failure.
And let Him give you hope.