Living Like Two Different People - March 29, 2026

I'm a completely different person depending on the room

that I'm in. Upstairs I'll be chasing your

skippity. Kids will be dodging nerf nerf

bullets, absolutely destroying them in foosball.

Speaking fluent middle schooler, no cap.

I know it's weird. And then my phone rings and I'm

standing in a hospital room, praying over a friend who's in a

coma, holding onto a hand that's not squeezing back, asking God

for something that I can't make happen on my own.

Same guy, same week. Hi, I'm Dave, one of the pastors

here at Resurrection Church. I think we all do this.

You have a version of yourself in every room you walk into, and

most of the time that's just being called human.

Most of the time, nobody calls you up because it's basic

survival that read the room, protect yourself, don't make

things weird. But it doesn't just stay in the

classroom or at work. Actually follows you into the

moments, the moments that matter most.

And at some point, maybe, maybe it's already happened.

This week, that same instinct shows up when Jesus is on the

table. Not in a dramatic way, that was

soldiers and torches. Just a moment where you could

have said something and you didn't, or you could have let

people know who you actually are, but you chose the easier

version of yourself. Most of us, we've been doing

this. We've been doing this so long,

we don't even notice it anymore. How much would it cost you,

Judas? Judas sold out Jesus for 30

pieces of silver. 30 pieces branded him forever. 30 pieces

made him the villain. But here's what I keep thinking

about. Most of us, we betray Jesus for

free. Judas at least got something out

of the deal. We deny him for nothing.

We go quiet at a dinner party to avoid awkward pauses.

We scroll past your chances to say something about our faith

because what would people actually think about us?

We stay silent in a conversation where Jesus is being mocked or

our morals, our values are being challenged and we walk away

pain. Exactly nothing except our

integrity. Our big idea for today is your

silence is your statement. Today we're going to read John

John 18 · chapter mention

chapter 18. And this chapter isn't really

about Peter. It's about the version of you

and me that show up when it gets costly to follow Jesus.

Before we before we read this, though, if you're here today and

you're not a Christian, you're about to see what makes Jesus

different from every other religious leader who's ever

lived. Every other religion tells you

you've got to get it back together.

You can come back when you're worthy.

Jesus walks toward people who have just failed him.

That's the account we're going to read right now in John

John 18:15–27

chapter 18, verses 15 through 27.

Let's read. Simon Peter followed Jesus, and

so did another disciple. Since that disciple was known to

the high priest, he entered with Jesus into the courtyard of the

high priest. But Peter stood outside the

door, so the other disciple who was known to the high priest

went out and spoke to the servant girl who kept watch at

the door and brought Peter in. The servant girl of the door

said to Peter, You also are not one of this man's disciples, are

you? He said, I am not.

Now the servant, an officer, had made a charcoal fire because it

was cold, and they were standing and warming themselves.

Peter also was with them, standing and warming himself.

The high priest then question Jesus about his disciples and

his teaching. Jesus answered him.

I have spoken openly to the world.

I've also taught in synagogues and in the Temple where all Jews

come together. I have said nothing in secret.

Why do you ask me? Ask those who have heard me what

I said to them. They know what I said when he

has said these things. One of the officers standing by

struck Jesus with his hand, saying, Is this how you answer

the high priest? Jesus answered him.

If what I say is wrong, bear witness about the wrong.

But if what I say is right, why do you strike me?

And it's been sent him bound to Caiaphas the high priest.

Now Simon Peter was standing and warming himself.

So they said to him, You also are not.

You also are not one of his disciples, are you?

He denied it and said, I am not one of the servants of the high

priest. A relative of the man whose ear

Peter had cut off asked, Did I not see you in the garden with

him? Peter again denied it, and at

once the rooster crowed. Most of us picture this in a

dark alley where all of this is happening.

But if you remember Pastor Daniel's message a couple weeks

ago, this is the high priest courts.

This is where Peter and and Jesus are the absolute center of

hostile power of this massive estate.

Not a little house, a fortress built in rectangles surrounding

a central courtyard. You don't just wander in and out

of this place. Jesus was visible to Peter.

They could see each other as people moved about across that

courtyard. Peter's warming himself by the

fire. And Jesus is on trial.

The courage and the cowardice is happening all at the same time,

and what happens next is not one denial, it's three, and each one

costs something different. The first one is the relational

cost, the question that catches you off guard.

It doesn't start with an enemy, it starts with somebody who

probably doesn't even know your name.

The first actually accusation comes from a low stakes source,

a servant goal. Not a soldier, not one of the

religious authorities who could actually have him arrested.

A girl at the door, she says, Aren't you one of his disciples?

She says it's so in a way that she expects him to say no.

She gives him the easy out. There's no sores at Peter's

throat, no crowd calling for his blood.

Just a girl asking an easy question with an easy exit.

And Peter took it. Peter took it because the

relational cost felt too high. What if word got out?

What if people start to treat me differently?

What if I lose access to the courtyards, the inner circle, to

this moment? I know this.

I know this because I've done this.

I've lived this. I felt this.

I spent over 10 years in sales, new people everyday, thousands

of conversations. I've sat across from foster

parents, people in crisis, people drowning, hurt, sorrow.

And I've stayed quiet, Silent because the cost of being cut

out of the situation felt too high, too much at stake, too

much to mention the one thing that could actually help them

and help the situation. I didn't stop believing in

Jesus. I just mentioned Him when I felt

safe and I told myself that was enough.

That's OK. That's the first denial.

It doesn't look like Peters. No soldiers, no courtroom.

Just a decision to stay quiet. The decision to send the easier

version of me into the room. We do it every week.

Not dramatically socially in the moment when we we should be

relevant and standing up for Jesus, we say nothing.

When someone challenge you the way you parent, the way you

think about your marriage or your morals, you actually have

an answer for these things. Not just an opinion, but a

conviction. Something that scripture has

been shaping you over years following Jesus has actually

changed you. That idea of well, I just think

as if now it's just your personal preference, as if

nothing Jesus has done in your life is making you think that

way, as this you've arrived to this conviction by accident,

like nothing God is actually doing in your life.

This is denial. Nobody threatened you.

Nobody came at you with torches, you just quietly edited out

Jesus of your own story, your own conversations, to be

comfortable. The first denial, the easy

denial, is about reputation. The servant girls question the

low stakes, the easy exit. Man, do we take it.

We take it all the time. Social media and modern dinner

parties are our new courtyards. We warm ourselves by the fire of

public approval. So what do we do about this when

that moment comes? That moment at the dinner table,

the discussions, that group chats, the office?

I'm not telling you to go preach and Bible thump people.

Just don't edit Jesus out of your conversation.

Ask yourself one question before you answer, before you speak

into it. How would I respond if Jesus was

sitting next to me? Because he is the lifestyle

cost. By the 2nd denial, Peter is not

really in that much danger. He's just cold.

He walked into the court court courtyard and the people were

about to kill Jesus, and he's warming his hands by the fire

and he's starting to blend in, not because he had to, but

because it's easier. The second questioner pushes

harder. Aren't you one of the disciples?

And again, I am not you and I, we want the fire without the

cross. We want the peace of Jesus, his

promises, but not the lifestyle that requires us to follow

Jesus. Arthur Wilburys says from this

book, $3 worth of God. I would like to buy $3 worth of

God, please. Not enough to expose my soul and

to disturb my sleep, but just enough to equal a cup of warm

milk or a snooze in the sunshine.

I don't want enough to make him make me love a black man or pick

beats with a migrant. I want ecstasy, not

transformation. I want the warmth of the womb,

not a new birth. I want a pound of the eternal in

a paper sack. I would like to buy $3 worth of

God, please. We want the blessing without the

obedience. I've wanted that $3 version of

God more times than I can admit. Following Jesus has always meant

something was going to be costly.

Not your salvation. That's grace.

It's given to us freely. But my lifestyle, my life, my

choices. Jesus says to take up your

cross, not your coffee. He says to deny myself, not just

my desires, when it's convenient.

The second denial is a lifestyle choice.

How often do we want Jesus to show up on Sunday?

But we're not ready to be different on Monday?

What's the fire you're warming yourself that isn't Jesus?

That thing. That thing that's coming to your

mind. And if it's not, keep searching

for it. When it comes, say it out loud,

because silence is a statement. But so is finally telling the

truth, and denial thrives in silence.

The moment you say it out loud, it loses half of its power.

Lastly, the physical cost. By the 3rd denial, Peter's back

is against the wall. One of the people asking is the

relative of Malchus, the man who Peter had just chopped his ear

off hours before. This is personal now.

This is dangerous, he says. Didn't I see you in the garden?

And Peter denied it again. And Matthew's count.

Matthew tells us he's cursing and he swears I don't know this

blankety blank dude. The deeper we go into denial,

the harder we have to work to maintain it.

First it's a quiet deflection. Now, now it's a loud

desperation. Matthew 26 tells us that after

the 3rd denial, someone in the courtyard says your accent, the

way you talk, it gives you away. You're 1 of him.

He's trying to blend in, standing at the fire, using

their words, playing the part. But the moment he talked, he

ratted himself out. Because when you've spent a long

time with Jesus, he changes you. It changes the way you talk

about life, money, the way you see your enemies, the way you

handle suffering. It changes what you're willing

to do with your life. Peter couldn't fully hide it,

even in his denial. Jesus already changed him more

than he realized. So what would it cost you to

take one step closer to Jesus right now?

Not vaguely. Specifically.

A reputation, a relationship, a career, a lifestyle you've

built. Write that down.

Write down what you might lose. And then right underneath it,

Jesus already knew when he went to the cross for me.

Jesus himself says, don't start building until you've counted

the cost. Luke chapter 18.

Luke 18 · chapter mention

This is his words, not mine. Because until you name it, until

you make that decision about whether or not you're willing to

pay for it, you don't know what you're doing.

Sometimes we Christians lie to ourselves.

We'd say we'd die for Jesus. Bro, please.

You won't even fully live for Jesus, let alone die for him.

Who's singing about taking the cross on Sunday?

But Monday, we won't take a pay cut for a calling.

About 10 years ago, I'm a brand new youth pastor just trying to

figure out how to get kids to go to church.

And I get a call about a student that had graduated about a year

and a half earlier. And this young man lost his

life, an overdose gone. Instead of a regular Wednesday

night service, we're going crazy, having fun.

We planned a small prayer service just so our youth group,

the kids that knew him, could start to heal.

Something quiet, something for a few of the family members.

That night, I pulled into the parking lot.

I kid you not, there were students and teachers.

The place was packed. There were skids everywhere.

I did not invite them. They invited themselves. 150

people show up, People I've never seen.

People never set foot in church. I'll be honest, I was terrified.

I'd never done a funeral service before.

I didn't know what I was doing. I didn't know what I was walking

into. I'd never stood in front of

grief that size before. But I knew a few things.

I knew that boy knew the Lord and I knew that 100 people were

about to walk into a church that had probably never heard about

Jesus before. I had a choice.

I could keep it safe. I could keep it general.

I could talk about love and loss and really say nothing about the

gospel. Nothing really uncomfortable

about eternal life and or I could say the one true thing.

The thing that cost Jesus so much.

So I preached the gospel in a room full of strangers and grief

and a mother who had just lost her son.

And at the end of it, we had a prayer quote up front.

And I told anyone who wanted to pray, to pray for the family, to

pray over the the quilt, to come forward and tie a knot, say your

prayer. And they lined up, seemingly all

of them, 150 people in a giant line, 1 by 1 tie knots,

whispering prayers. Some of them probably never

prayed in their lives before. That's what happens when you say

the costly thing. That's what happens when you

don't edit Jesus out of the room.

So where are you in this story? Maybe you're at the servant

girl. You're at that easy question

right now. Just a low stakes moments.

You've been quietly editing out Jesus out of your story, out of

your personal life, out of the conversations that you're

having. You haven't done anything

traumatic. You've just stopped mentioning

him. Maybe you're at the fire.

You're in a season where you're trying to stay warm, be

comfortable. You've started to blend into the

crowd more than you and I'd like to admit.

Or maybe you've heard the rooster crow.

You know something is off, the weight is on you, but you

haven't been willing to name it yet.

If that's you, I need to, I need you to see what happens next.

In this account, Peter hears the rooster and it broke him, but it

didn't end him. And here's why.

Luke tells us in that exact moment, Jesus turns and looked

straight at him through the people, through the courtyard.

Think about what Jesus was going through.

Betrayal, abandonment. He's about to be crucified.

He's already been beaten. It's just about to get worse.

He could have looked at Peter with anger, with disappointment,

with disgust. But what he saw in Peter, he is.

This is the same thing that he's seen through Peter, through all

the ministry, through the all the time that they're been

together. He watched him look at Zacchaeus

as a thief, a sell up. He watched him look at the woman

caught in a drought she dragged into the streets in her shame.

He watched the lepers and the outcasts and the failures.

It was always the same look. The look of love, the look that

says I know what you're going through, I know what you've

done. It's why I came here to earth,

to die on the cross. This is the gospel.

Jesus didn't come to the cross by accident.

He went knowing that Peter was going to be standing at the

fire. He went for the skeptics in this

room. He went for the person warming

themselves by the wrong fires. He went for me and he went for

you. The courtyard is not the end of

your story. It wasn't the end of his.

Right now, He's not looking at your failures.

Jesus could not stay dead. Not even death could hold him.

Next week we're going to celebrate that.

We're going to be so excited. It's going to be Easter.

Jesus is not asking you to clean up yourself first.

He's asking you to trust him with your mess.

The same Jesus who looked at Peter across the courtyard, who

didn't look away, who didn't give up, who went to the cross,

who came here anyways. That is the same person who's

standing in front of you now. Not a religion, not a set of

rules. Jesus who already knew

everything you've done and he came for you anyways.

Romans 10/9 tells us if you confess with your mouth that

Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart that God raised him

from the dead, you will be saved.

For the heart. 1 believes and is justified and with the mouth one

confess, confesses and is saved. If you want to take the

opportunity to confront Jesus, who's already standing in front

of you, who's been calling you, who's been waiting for you,

wants to save you, I'm going to give you an opportunity right

now to say a prayer. This prayer isn't about perfect

words. It's not about getting the

formula right. God cares about your heart.

I can pray this quietly or silently repeating what I say or

something in your own words, in your belief to Jesus.

Let us pray right now. Right now is the time for

someone to surrender their life to God.

Say this prayer. Jesus, thank you.

Thank you for finding me where I'm at today.

I choose to follow you. I know I'm a messed up person

and I'm lost on my own. I know I can't save myself.

I've been warming myself at the wrong fire and today I look to

you. I can't follow you perfectly,

but I trust you to save me today.

I give you my whole life. I accept your love, your peace,

your forgiveness of my sins. Be my savior Jesus, Everybody's

head still bowed. If you pray that prayer for the

very first time, would you be brave enough for me to see?

Thank you. See your hands in Jesus name

Everybody says Amen. If you prayed that prayer for

the very first time, something incredible just happened.

Welcome to the family of God. In a moment we were all going to

stand. If you pray that prayer, please,

please go to either of the tables that say I raised my

hand. I ask you because we, we want to

start this journey with you. We want to celebrate with you.

We want to give you a gift right now.

Our prayer team is going to come forward.

If you would like to pray about anything, I mean anything at

all, I encourage you to come forward.

Maybe it's something that you wrote down today.

As you come forward, give it to God.

Everybody, please stand. Move as the Lord leads you.