The Sovereign Shepherd and the Self-Confident Sheep Text: Mark 14:26-31
Introduction: The Anatomy of a Fall
We come now to a moment of high drama, a scene thick with irony and pathos. It unfolds on the Mount of Olives, a place of prayer and communion, immediately after the institution of the Lord's Supper. The disciples have just sung a hymn, their hearts likely full of a certain kind of religious fervor. They have just participated in the inauguration of the New Covenant. And it is in this precise moment, on the heels of this high point of worship, that Jesus announces their catastrophic failure. This is a pattern we ought to mark well. Our moments of greatest spiritual confidence are often the very threshold of our greatest temptations.
This passage is a clinical study in the anatomy of a spiritual fall. It reveals the vast chasm between God's sovereign, scriptural decree and man's proud, self-reliant boasting. We see two declarations set in stark opposition. First, we have the declaration of God through the prophet Zechariah, which Jesus now applies to Himself: the Shepherd will be struck and the sheep will be scattered. This is a divine passive. The striking is a sovereign act. Second, we have the declaration of Simon Peter, speaking for himself and for all the others: "Even though all may fall away, yet I will not." This is a human active. It is the voice of the flesh, full of sincere, passionate, and utterly worthless resolve.
The central conflict here is not between Jesus and the disciples, but between two competing certainties. The certainty of the prophetic Word of God versus the certainty of a man's self-assessment. One is bedrock reality. The other is a sandcastle of pride, about to be washed away by the tide of fear. We must pay close attention, because every one of us has a little bit of Peter in us. We all have a tendency to overestimate our own strength and to underestimate the wisdom of God's warnings. This passage is here to disabuse us of our self-confidence, so that we might learn to place all our confidence in the Shepherd who, even in being struck, is orchestrating the salvation of His scattered sheep.
The Text
And after singing a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives.
And Jesus said to them, “You will all fall away, because it is written, ‘I WILL STRIKE DOWN THE SHEPHERD, AND THE SHEEP SHALL BE SCATTERED.’
But after I have been raised, I will go ahead of you to Galilee.”
But Peter said to Him, “Even though all may fall away, yet I will not.”
And Jesus said to him, “Truly I say to you, that today, this very night, before a rooster crows twice, you yourself will deny Me three times.”
But Peter kept saying insistently, “If I have to die with You, I will not deny You!” And they all were saying the same thing also.
(Mark 14:26-31 LSB)
Worship and Warning (v. 26-27a)
The scene is set with an act of worship, which makes the subsequent prediction all the more jarring.
"And after singing a hymn, they went out to the Mount of Olives. And Jesus said to them, 'You will all fall away...'" (Mark 14:26-27a)
They have just sung a hymn, likely the second part of the Hallel psalms (Psalms 115-118), which were traditionally sung after the Passover meal. These are psalms of deliverance and victory. "The LORD is my strength and my song, and He has become my salvation" (Ps. 118:14). It is not difficult to imagine the disciples, their bellies full and their hearts stirred, singing these words with gusto. They are on the Lord's team. Victory is assured. And then, as they walk out into the cool night air, Jesus punctures their spiritual balloon with a pinprick of hard reality: "You will all fall away."
The Greek word for "fall away" is skandalisthe sesthe, from which we get our word "scandalized." It means you will be tripped up, you will take offense, you will stumble and abandon ship. It is not a prediction of a minor slip-up. It is a prediction of total desertion. And notice the scope: "You will all fall away." Not just Judas, the compromised treasurer. Not just some of the fringe disciples. All of you. The inner circle. The ones who had left everything to follow Him. This is a bucket of cold water on their self-perception.
The Sovereign Striking (v. 27b)
Jesus does not base this grim prediction on His psychological assessment of their character. He bases it on the unshakeable foundation of Scripture.
"...because it is written, 'I WILL STRIKE DOWN THE SHEPHERD, AND THE SHEEP SHALL BE SCATTERED.'" (Mark 14:27b)
This is a quotation from Zechariah 13:7. And we must not miss the glorious and terrifying theology embedded here. Who is the "I" who strikes the Shepherd? In the context of Zechariah, it is Yahweh Himself. God the Father is the one who will strike His own Son, the Shepherd. This is not an accident. The cross is not a tragedy that God scrambled to fix. It is the centerpiece of His eternal plan. As Peter would later preach, Jesus was "delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God" (Acts 2:23). The Father is the one wielding the sword.
This is the heart of penal substitutionary atonement. God, in His infinite justice, must punish sin. And God, in His infinite love, provides the substitute. He strikes His own Son in our place. The scattering of the sheep, their failure, their cowardice, is a direct consequence of this divine act. When the central pillar is struck, the whole structure shakes. Their falling away is not the cause of the cross; it is a result of it. God is so sovereign that even the sins and failures of His people are woven into the tapestry of His redemptive purpose. This should humble us to the dust. Our failures do not derail God's plan; God's plan accounts for and overrules our failures.
Grace Goes First (v. 28)
In the very same breath that He predicts their utter failure, Jesus gives them a promise of absolute restoration. This is crucial.
"But after I have been raised, I will go ahead of you to Galilee." (Mark 14:28)
Notice the sequence. He does not say, "If you repent and get your act together, then maybe we can meet up." He says, "After I am raised, I will go ahead of you." Grace gets there first. The appointment for restoration is made before the sin is even committed. Jesus is already planning the reunion breakfast on the shores of Galilee while they are still full of their Passover bravado.
This is the nature of covenant grace. It is not dependent on our performance. It is grounded in His promise. He is the Shepherd who will be struck, but He is also the Shepherd who will rise and regather His scattered, stupid sheep. Galilee was where it all began. It was the place of their first calling. By promising to meet them there, He is promising to restore them completely, to take them back to the beginning and start afresh. This is the gospel in miniature: sin and failure are real and devastating, but the resurrection and the grace of God are more real and more powerful.
Fleshly Boasting (v. 29-31)
Peter, however, is not listening to the promise of grace. He is still smarting from the insult to his pride. He cannot hear the good news of restoration because he is deafened by the bad news about his own impending failure.
"But Peter said to Him, 'Even though all may fall away, yet I will not.' ... But Peter kept saying insistently, 'If I have to die with You, I will not deny You!' And they all were saying the same thing also." (Mark 14:29, 31)
Here is the logic of the flesh on full display. Peter's response is a study in pride. First, he sets himself apart from the others. "Even though all..." He elevates himself by comparison. This is always a tell-tale sign of pride. He is not just confident; he is competitive in his confidence. Second, he directly contradicts Jesus. Jesus said, "You will all fall away." Peter says, "I will not." He is, in effect, calling Jesus a liar. He trusts his own heart more than he trusts Christ's word. This is the essence of unbelief.
Jesus then turns the screw. He gives Peter a painfully specific prophecy: not just a general falling away, but a threefold denial, this very night, punctuated by the crowing of a rooster. This is a mercy. It is an opportunity for Peter to shut his mouth and tremble. But pride is not easily silenced. Peter doubles down. He "kept saying insistently." The language implies a vehement, repeated assertion. "If I have to die with You, I will not deny You!" He is making a vow he has no ability to keep. And lest we isolate Peter, Mark adds the damning detail: "And they all were saying the same thing also." This was not just Peter's sin. It was a corporate contagion of self-reliant pride.
They sincerely meant it. But sincerity is no substitute for strength. Their resolve was born of emotion and self-regard, not of humble reliance upon the Spirit. They were promising to die for Him, when in just a few moments, they would not even be able to stay awake for Him in the garden.
Conclusion: The Grace That Restores
So what are we to make of this? This is not just a story about the failure of some disciples two thousand years ago. It is a mirror for our own hearts. How often do we sing the hymns with passion on Sunday, only to stumble and fall on Monday? How often do we make resolutions for God, relying on our own grit and willpower, only to find ourselves scattered by the first gust of temptation or fear?
The lesson here is not "try harder." The lesson is "trust better." Peter's problem was not a lack of love for Jesus. His problem was an abundance of trust in Peter. He had to be utterly broken. He had to be brought to the end of his own resources, to the bitter tears of failure in the courtyard, before he could be of any real use to the kingdom. His pride had to be crucified.
And the good news is that the Shepherd who was struck for him was also raised for him. And He went ahead of him to Galilee. The grace of restoration was waiting for him on the other side of his failure. This is the hope for every one of us. God's plan for you is not thwarted by your failures. In His strange and wonderful providence, He uses your failures to kill your pride, to deepen your dependence, and to show you that His grace is not just the starting point, but the constant and only source of your entire Christian life. He lets you fall so that He can pick you up. He allows you to be scattered so that you will rejoice all the more when the Good Shepherd comes to gather you home.