Why Luke got a sequel

Go read Luke 22:54-62.

No, seriously. Go read it. I'll wait.

(La-de-da-dum. Tap-tap-tap.)

So what Luke does is allow us to picture Peter there in the courtyard with a random assortment of strangers and assume Jesus is off being mocked, beaten, and tried unjustly somewhere else. Peter's denial of his Lord thus seems distant and impersonal. But then, in 22:61, he reveals that the trial has been going on in the courtyard: Peter's argument around the fire is just a little bit away from the main event, and in plain view.

(This explains, by the way, why Peter's interrogators refer to Jesus as "he." No name is necessary since Jesus is right there, and probably is being gestured towards.)

Suddenly, Peter's denial becomes simultaneously more understandable and more monstrous. If he's identified as Jesus' follower, he could very well suffer the same fate, and at that very moment. But Jesus is also a witness to this betrayal, and his suffering thereby becomes all the worse.

By telling the story the way he does, Luke clarifies our understanding of what has occurred in a moment, and thereby creates a sudden and visceral sense of horror. Seriously, this Luke is a brilliant storyteller. No wonder he got a book deal for a sequel.