Good morning, Church. It’s so good to be back with you today to open up God’s Word together. Can you believe it’s already been six weeks since Easter? Time flies—but I’m grateful that while seasons shift and life moves quickly, some things never change.

“Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever” (Hebrews 13:8).

No matter what changes around us, God’s faithfulness holds steady. The prophet Isaiah put it this way:

“The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God stands forever” (Isaiah 40:8).

Today, we’re launching a new message series called You Are Known. Over the next few weeks, we’ll journey with the disciples, particularly Peter, as we prepare our hearts for Pentecost. However, this isn’t merely a history lesson. It’s a profound reminder that God sees you, knows you, and still calls you by name.

We’re focusing on Peter’s story because it’s real. It’s raw, honest, and unfiltered. Peter was bold in his faith, passionate in his pursuit of Jesus, and sometimes reckless in his actions. However, through every high and low, every success and every failure, Jesus never gave up on him. Even after Peter denied Him, Jesus restored him. And on the day of Pentecost, Peter stood filled with the Holy Spirit and boldly preached the message that launched the Church.

That’s the heart of this series: God knows the real you—flaws, failures, and all—and by His Spirit, He still wants to use you for His glory.

I believe with all my heart that Jesus is alive, His Spirit is active, and He continues to empower His Church today. Everything we discuss in this series will come through that lens. The Holy Spirit is not just part of our past—He is present, He is here, and He knows you.

You are known.

Let’s begin by turning to Mark 16, where Peter recounts this moment in verse 4:

“They looked up and saw that the stone, which was very large, had been rolled away. As they entered the tomb, they saw a young man dressed in a white robe sitting on the right side, and they were alarmed” (Mark 16:4–5).

“Don’t be afraid,” he said. “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…” (Mark 16:6–7).

Those two words—“and Peter”—carry a powerful weight. They speak of grace, of restoration, and a deeply personal calling. Jesus made sure Peter’s name was mentioned. Even after denying Him three times, Peter wasn’t written off. He wasn’t forgotten. He was still known, still loved, and still called by name.

That matters—because if you’ve lived long enough, you’ve learned this: there’s a little bad in the best of us, and a little good in the worst. Life teaches us not to judge someone by a single moment, one failure, or one chapter of their story. We’ve all witnessed what happens when you catch someone in a tough season and completely overlook who they really are.

One moment does not define a life. King David understood that, which is why he said:

“Let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for his mercy is great; but do not let me fall into the hands of men” (2 Samuel 24:14).

David knew people are quick to judge and slow to forgive. They’ll hold onto your worst mistake longer than they’ll remember your hundred victories.

But God doesn’t see like people do. He sees the whole story. He looks at your heart—not just your lowest moment. That’s why the Bible says:

“Mercy triumphs over judgment” (James 2:13).

That’s good news for all of us. God’s mercy covers what people struggle to let go of. Where others see failure, God sees a future.

Consider the individuals God used in the Old Testament. He never concealed their flaws. He allowed us to see their struggles up close—their doubts, their weaknesses, and their mistakes. This honest portrayal helps us view our own lives more clearly. The truth is none of us walks a perfect path. Life is a journey filled with peaks and valleys, with victories and setbacks along the way.

Some days make you laugh, while others make you cry. Life gives, and it takes. There are wins and losses, highs and lows—and that’s okay. That’s part of being human. It doesn’t mean you’re off track; it just means you’re alive, navigating a real story with a real God who meets you in every season.

Peter, the man we’re focusing on today, understood this kind of grace better than most. He’s a fascinating character—and to be honest, if it were up to me, I’m not sure I would’ve picked him to help launch the greatest movement the world has ever seen. If I had just twelve people and three years to change the world, I’d probably go looking for the sharpest minds, the most reliable people, low-maintenance leaders. Folks who didn’t need constant coaching or correction. People who could just get the job done.

But Peter wasn’t that guy. He wasn’t polished or perfect—but he was real. And let’s be honest—so are we. We all carry some baggage. We’ve all got quirks and flaws. Some people take a lot of grace and a lot of patience. But Jesus still brought Peter close, because in the kingdom of God, relationships matter more than résumés.

Peter walked closely with Jesus. He was there on the Mount of Transfiguration when Jesus revealed His glory. He was the one who stepped out of the boat when he saw Jesus walking on the water—no hesitation, just bold faith. And when the soldiers came to arrest Jesus, Peter didn’t freeze. He drew his sword and struck the high priest’s servant, cutting off his right ear (John 18:10).

In other words, he was going for his head. And sometimes, you need someone like Peter in your life. Someone who doesn’t leave you guessing. Someone who’s willing to step up and fight for what matters. Peter didn’t have it all together, but you never had to question where he stood—or who he stood with.

When Jesus asked, “Who do people say the Son of Man is?” the disciples repeated what they’d heard: John the Baptist, Elijah, or one of the prophets. But then Jesus made it personal: “What about you? Who do you say I am?”

And Peter answered, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God” (Matthew 16:16).

Of course, Peter spoke up. Bold, impulsive, and passionate—that was just who he was. But what’s surprising isn’t that Peter spoke; it’s that the others didn’t. After all they had seen—miracles, teachings, the dead raised—none of them could find the words. Only Peter had the courage to say aloud what they all should have known in their hearts.

Now, that is not the kind of word anyone wants to hear. Jesus was telling Peter, “The enemy is coming for you. He wants to crush you, shake you, and toss you into the wind.” That’s what it meant to be sifted like wheat—a violent, messy process that separates what’s genuine from what’s merely surface level.

But pay attention to what Jesus didn’t say. He didn’t say, “I stopped it.” He didn’t say, “I told Satan no.” He didn’t even say, “I prayed you wouldn’t fail.” What he said was:

“I have prayed for you, Simon, that your faith may not fail” (Luke 22:32).

And then He added, “And when you have turned back, strengthen your brothers” (Luke 22:32).

Not if, but when. Jesus was saying, “You’re going to go through it. You’re going to fall. But you won’t stay down. And when you get back up, you’ll have something powerful to give. You’ll know what it’s like to be sifted and restored. And that experience will give you the strength to help others stand.”

Let’s fast forward to verse 54, the night Jesus was arrested. As he was led away, the Bible says, “Peter followed at a distance.” This same Peter—bold, fiery, sword-swinging Peter—now hung back, afraid. The man who once stepped out of the boat onto the water now shrank into the shadows, watching the One he had sworn to defend being mocked, beaten, and led away in chains.

It’s easy to declare your faith when the music is playing and the atmosphere is full of worship. But real faith isn’t proven in the sanctuary, it’s tested in the silence. It shows up in how you live at home, how you speak under pressure, and how you respond when no one’s watching. If your faith doesn’t shape the way you love, serve, speak, and live, then your bold declarations don’t mean much. They’re just words.

Fear drove Peter into the background, but even when you try to disappear, you can’t hide from being recognized. As he stood near a fire, hoping to blend into the crowd, a servant girl looked closely at him and said, “You also were with Jesus of Galilee” (Matthew 26:69).

In that moment, fear wrapped itself around Peter like a chain. His courage vanished, and he flat out denied Jesus, saying, “I don’t know what you’re talking about” (Matthew 26:70).

But it didn’t stop there. He didn’t deny Jesus once or twice—he did it three times. Loudly. Publicly. And painfully. Each denial wasn’t just a moment of weakness—it drove a deeper wedge between Peter and the One he loved. Then the sound came—the piercing cry of a rooster—just as Jesus had said.

“Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times” (Luke 22:61).

The rooster’s crow didn’t just mark the time—it shattered Peter’s heart.

You see, fear will always test your loyalty. It shows up when the pressure is on, when things get uncomfortable, when it might cost you something to stay faithful. Trials reveal what’s really in your heart. They separate surface-level belief from deep, unshakable conviction. Because at the heart of every real relationship is acknowledgment. Knowing someone is one thing—standing with them when it costs you something is another. A genuine connection requires more than a silent agreement. It calls for visible allegiance. You can’t claim someone in private and then deny them in public.

That’s why we wear wedding rings—not just because they look nice, but because they say, “I belong to someone.” It’s a statement of acknowledgment. It marks the difference between something casual and something covenant. And Jesus said:

“Whoever acknowledges me before others, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before others, I will disown before my Father in heaven” (Matthew 10:32–33).

To acknowledge someone means saying, “I’m not ashamed of you. I’m with you. You matter to me.” And that’s exactly what Jesus is looking for—not just private faith, but public loyalty. Not just quiet belief, but open commitment. He’s calling for followers who will stand with Him when it’s hard, not just when it’s easy.

And so, imagine the weight of pain in Jesus' heart as Peter denied Him, not just once, but three times. The one who had boldly promised to stand with Him now swore, “I don’t know the man.” And the Bible says,

“The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter” (Luke 22:61).

In that moment, Jesus looked at Peter—not with anger, but with love, compassion, and a deep, aching sorrow. That look pierced deeper than any rebuke. It’s what made the moment so painful for Peter.

Because denial isn’t just about words, it’s a break in the relationship. Rejection cuts deep because it refuses to acknowledge the connection. It says, “I don’t know you,” and that silence echoes louder than any shout.

After all the time they had spent together—after Jesus had taught him, walked with him, empowered him, and trusted him—Peter turned away. The Bible says he went outside and wept bitterly (Luke 22:62).

He wasn’t just sad. He was shattered. Deep down, he had hoped Jesus was wrong. He wanted those words to never come true. But now, the truth hit him full force—he had let Jesus down, he had failed.

And the worst part was that now Peter was completely alone—not just physically, but emotionally and spiritually. It’s one thing to wrestle with private sin, but when your failure is public, the weight of shame gets heavier. It isolates you. People might still smile and greet you, but you feel the silent judgment, the subtle distance, the quiet rejection. It’s not loud or obvious, but it’s real. It’s painful. And Peter felt every bit of it.

Now, he wasn’t just the man who denied his Rabbi—he had denied the risen Son of God. Because the angel declared:

“He is not here; he has risen, just as he said” (Matthew 28:6).

In that moment, every word Jesus had spoken was confirmed. Every promise, every prophecy, every claim is undeniable. This wasn’t just a personal failure. It was a missed moment, a devastating fracture in the relationship. It’s one thing to walk away from someone who stays dead. But when the One you betrayed rises in glory, the weight of your denial cuts even deeper.

But Jesus never forgot Peter. Even after the failure, the fear, and the denial, Jesus made it clear—He still had a place for him. Even when Peter had counted himself out, Jesus counted him back in. He made sure the message was personal:

“Go, tell his disciples… and Peter” (Mark 16:7).

That’s grace. That’s restoration. That’s the heart of Jesus. He didn’t come for the perfect—He came for the doubters, the scattered, the broken, and the unfaithful. And he’s still saying, “I want you.”

For some of you, that might be your word today. Maybe you’ve taken a wrong turn. Maybe you feel stuck, ashamed, or unworthy. But I want you to hear this clearly: God hasn’t changed His mind about you. You haven’t missed your calling. You may have failed, but the truth remains within you. If you once knew Jesus as the Christ, then you can also recognize when your life is off course—and you can be sure that He’s already working to bring you back. Because the Bible says:

“God’s gifts and his call are irrevocable” (Romans 11:29).

In other words, when Jesus called you, He already knew every detail of your life-every battle, every detour, every season of struggle—and He still chose you. In fact, He said:

“You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit—fruit that will last” (John 15:16).

So, this morning, as we close, I want to encourage you—don’t give up. Don’t believe the lie that you’re stuck. Don’t hide in the shadows. You are known, and His love for you has never failed. By His grace, your story isn’t over. You’re still on your way to a bright future. Because:

“He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus” (Philippians 1:6).

Graphics, notes, and commentary from LifeChurch, Ministry Pass, PC Study Bible, Preaching Library, and Sermon Central. Scripture from the New International Version unless otherwise noted.