A Tale of Two Disciples
Why Peter Got Back Up and Judas Did Not
A few days ago, I came across a poem titled “Judas, Peter” by Luci Shaw, shared in a Substack note (by
)—and ever since, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about these two men who walked with Jesus, heard the same parables, saw the same miracles, and sat at the same table the night before his public torture and execution.Peter and Judas.
Both failed him.
Both betrayed him.
And yet, only one of them came back.
What made the difference?
To understand that question, we need to first explore what I’ll call the posture of the soul. Specifically, the way shame and pride warp our ability to return to God—and how humility becomes the unlikely narrow path between them.
The Soul’s Posture: Shame, Pride, and Humility
Think of the vertical beam of the cross as a moral axis.
At the top, we find pride. It’s the hyper-vice—always sharp, self-elevated, puffed up.
At the bottom, we find shame. The hypo-vice—flat, collapsed inward, curled into self-loathing.
And right in the middle, at the intersection, is humility.
If pride says “I’m better than everyone else” and shame says “I’m worse than everyone else,” humility says “I know who I am, and I know whose I am.”
Humility is grounded, clear-eyed, balanced. It tells the truth—about ourselves and about God.
Shame and pride may seem like opposites, but they share a fatal flaw: they both turn our gaze inward. They bend us back onto ourselves. Pride builds a pedestal; shame digs a grave. Either way, the path is downward.
But humility? Humility lifts its eyes.
In Psalm 86, David models this well. He says, “I am poor and needy,” but he does not stop there. He continues: “In the day of my trouble I call upon you, for you answer me” (v.7). He knows he is low, but he also knows the Lord is near. That is the anatomy of humility.
Peter: Falling, But Not Forgotten
Peter had always been brash, outspoken, and probably the oldest among the disciples. He was a man formed in pride—often speaking first, correcting Jesus, boasting loudly: “Even if all fall away, I will not.”
And then—just hours later—he denies Jesus three times.
His pride crashes into shame.
But something stops Peter from falling all the way into despair. He weeps bitterly, yes, but he does not end the story there.
What was the turning point?
I believe it was a word—the word Jesus spoke earlier: “Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.”
That sentence was like a ledge on the cliff wall of Peter’s shame. When he heard the rooster crow, that word caught him mid-fall. It stayed with him. It lodged in his soul. And after the resurrection, Jesus returns to Peter not to scold, but to restore. He recreates the scene of their first encounter. He makes him breakfast. He asks him three times, “Do you love me?”—once for each denial.
Jesus doesn’t ignore Peter’s failure.
He invites him to let love cover it.
Judas: A Fall with No Handhold
Judas was different. His pride was quieter, more calculated. He didn’t correct Jesus aloud—but he corrected him in his heart. He had ideas about how the Messiah should behave. He stole from the ministry funds. He treated Jesus not as Lord but as a tool—something to manipulate for his own revolutionary ideals.
And when his plans collapsed and his pride fell, Judas also plunged into shame. But unlike Peter, there was no word that caught him.
Though he had heard Jesus’ teaching—likely even the Sermon on the Mount—it never took root. When the moment of crisis came, Judas had no scaffolding of Scripture in his soul, no memory of mercy, no foothold of hope.
So he ended his story himself.
What Made the Difference?
It wasn’t that Peter failed less.
It wasn’t even that Peter loved Jesus more.
The difference was this: Peter remembered the Word. Judas did not.
One allowed the words of Jesus to interrupt his shame. The other had no words to return to.
In the end, that’s what saves us—not that we get it all right, but that we remember what is true when we get it wrong.
Reflection: Let Scripture Catch You Mid-Fall
If pride inflates and shame collapses, then humility must be practiced. It must be formed in us—often through failure.
So here’s my question:
What word from Jesus would catch you in a fall?
Do you have one?
Memorize it. Dwell on it. Let it burrow deep in your heart before the storm comes. Not for self-help. Not for Instagram. But for survival.
Here are three ways to practice that:
Memorize Scripture, not for performance, but for presence.
Let it become part of your bones. Like Peter, you may need it in a moment of weakness.
Pray Psalm 86 regularly.
Join David in saying, “I am poor and needy… but You are gracious and good.”
Don’t twist Scripture to justify your pride or shame.
Let the Word of God read you. Let it humble you. Let it lift your eyes.
Final Word
Peter and Judas remind us: failure is not the end—unless we let it be.
Remember the voice that still calls out to us today:
“Come, follow me.”
Even after the fall.
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This is marvelous; well done!