Weekly Devotional • BBCC
And Peter
Mark My Words Series
Mark 16:1–8
From the sermon by Pastor Samuel Sutter • April 5, 2026
The angel at the empty tomb had a message. And the way he worded it should stop you cold.
"Go, tell his disciples and Peter."
And Peter.
You have to feel the weight of that. Days earlier, Peter had sworn on his life — even if everyone else falls away, I won't. He meant it. He believed it. And then a servant girl asked a question by a fire and he crumbled. Three denials. A rooster. And then that look from Jesus — the kind of look you never recover from.
So where is Peter on Sunday morning? Somewhere in Jerusalem. Gutted. Replaying it on a loop. The words he said. The sound of his own voice saying them. Peter didn't just fail Jesus — he failed the version of himself he thought he was. The ride-or-die guy. The one who'd never flinch. That man died in the courtyard. And Peter doesn't know who he is anymore.
Shame does that. It doesn't just make you feel bad about what you did. It makes you forget who you are.
And into that — before a single sermon is preached, before a single church is planted, before anyone writes a creed or a hymn — the very first message of the risen Jesus is this:
Go get the one who failed the worst. Tell him I'm not done with him.
Not after he cleans up. Not after he earns it back. Not after a probationary period. Now.
"But go, tell his disciples and Peter, 'He is going ahead of you into Galilee. There you will see him, just as he told you.'"
— Mark 16:7 (NIV)
I think some of you need to hear this more than anything else today.
You're carrying something. A failure. A secret. A season you don't talk about. And there's a voice — quiet, persistent, corrosive — telling you that you're done. That you used up your chances. That God might love other people unconditionally but he saw what you did and you're the exception.
That voice is a liar.
The first name on the risen King's list was the name of the man who swore he didn't even know him. That's not an accident. That's the whole point. The resurrection isn't just proof that Jesus conquered death. It's proof that his grace is more stubborn than your worst moment.
And notice — the angel doesn't say "tell Peter I'm disappointed." Doesn't say "tell Peter we need to talk." He says: tell Peter I'm going ahead of him.
Going ahead. Into Galilee. Into home. Into ordinary life. Into the place where Peter would have to face everyone who knew what he did. Jesus didn't offer Peter an escape from his real life. He walked into it first and waited for him there.
When Peter finally shows up in Galilee — John 21 tells us — Jesus is on the beach. He's made breakfast. There's a charcoal fire. Same detail as the courtyard. That's not a coincidence. Jesus walked Peter back to the scene of his worst failure and redeemed it over fish and bread.
That's what grace does. It doesn't pretend the failure didn't happen. It doesn't skip past it. It walks you back through it and meets you there.
You're not disqualified. You're being called back.
This Week's Practice
Name it. What's the thing you've been convinced disqualifies you? The failure, the habit, the season you're ashamed of. Write it down — not to dwell on it, but to put it in front of God honestly. Then read Mark 16:7 out loud and put your name where Peter's is: "Tell the disciples and [your name] — he is going ahead of you." Do that every morning this week. Let it sink past your theology and into your bones.