The Fisherman and the Master, part 2

~John 21.1-19

"Don't think about it. You can't change the past. You can't change what happened. You're a big-mouth boasting idiot with no more guts than the fish you clean, a pathetic excuse of a friend who bails out when the things get tough. You're a worse traitor than Judas. At least Judas had the balls to face Jesus and betray him outright." The more Peter's thoughts accused him the harder he worked. Even though the air was sweet and cool as dawn approached, sweat poured down his bare back.

It had been his idea to come to the lake. After all, they were just sitting around wondering when and how the Lord would appear to them again, wondering if he would appear again. While words could barely express the amazement and joy they had felt at seeing Jesus alive, still, when left to themselves, they had no idea what to do next. Often it had been Peter who had the ideas. But since that night of the arrest, he was so immersed in his own failure he could barely function. And unlike the others, his relief and joy at seeing Jesus was tempered with shame.

Abruptly he had ceased pacing the room and announced, "I'm going fishing."

Although it was late in the night, most of them jumped to their feet too. Work was better than just waiting to see what came next. But it had been pointless work, as it turned out. All night they'd caught nothing.

None of his companions dared say anything to Peter as he worked furiously, rowing to re-position the boat, sharpening their fishing knives, anything to stay busy. Peter's restless activity stood in sharp contrast to the quiet of the water and the other men. The sails hung as empty as the nets and as their hopes for a catch.

Then, just before dawn broke, someone hailed them from beside a fire on the shore. "Young men! Have you caught anything?"

"Nothing," Thomas yelled.

The man on the beach called back, "Throw out your net on the right side of the boat and see what happens."

Peter paused, wiped an arm across his forhead and reached for a drink of water. The rest of them, happy for distraction, humored the odd request and threw the net over. Within minutes there were fish, not just a few fish, but as many as the net could hold. Suddenly, Peter's full attention was riveted on the man on the shore.

"It's the Lord," said John, voicing the thought of all.

Without hesitation, without deliberation, Peter grabbed his tunic, threw it over his head and plunged into the sea, swimming for land with all his might. Only as his feet touched bottom and he walked up dripping from the cold, shallow water did he realize that he had nothing to say to his one-time Master and friend. It was the third time he'd seen Jesus since the resurrection. The other times had been in a room with everyone there, James, John, Andrew, all of them. Jesus had paid Peter no special attention. Why should he? Peter felt his own failure deeply, but he did not know how to express the anguish of his regret. He had betrayed the Lord. That was an irrefutable fact of history. Still, he was drawn to Jesus.

Wet and cold Peter went to the fire and stooped without a word to warm himself. As he did, he was hit with a horrible deja vu: dawn breaking, Peter shivering, warm fire, Jesus nearby. Unbidden, the scene replayed in his mind. The servant girl stares and accuses him, "He's one of them!" Peter denies it. "I don't know him!" Three times someone had suggested he was a follower of Jesus, and three times he had denied it—once with an oath. How could he have lost his nerve, his commitment, so completely? And then Jesus had turned to him just as the rooster crowed. It had happened exactly as the Lord, who knew him so well, had predicted, and just as Peter, who apparently knew himself so little, had poo-foo'd as impossible. Well, he knew better now. And what he saw of himself was weak and ugly.

Peter miserably rubbed his hands and stared into the fire as he remembered these words of the Lord: “Everyone who acknowledges me publicly here on earth, I will also acknowledge before my Father in heaven. But everyone who denies me here on earth, I will also deny before my Father in heaven." Denied before Yahweh. And deservedly so. There was no more reason to live or to die. Peter shuddered, not entirely from the cold.

The boat had not been far from land, so the others approached within minutes, towing the laden net of fish. Jesus was tending some bread on the fire, getting ready for breakfast. "Bring some of your fish," he said. Mechanically, Peter rose and dragged the net in as the others gathered eagerly around the Master. Yes, they too had been afraid. They had even run. But they had not so blatantly denied him. They could interact with him now without shame.

Soon fish crackled on the coals and everyone but Peter enjoyed the catch and the bread that Jesus had prepared.

Afterwards, as the sun climbed, Peter walked away from the circle of fellowship where he felt an outsider. But Jesus followed. For the first time since the terrible event, the Lord spoke to Peter directly, using his formal name. "Simon son of John, do you love me more than these others?"

There had been a time, it seemed long ago, when Peter was sure he loved the Lord more than any of the others. "Yes, Lord," he answered without conviction. "You know I love you."

"Then feed my lambs."

What did that mean? Before Peter could decide, Jesus asked again, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"

"Yes, Lord. You know I love you."

"Take care of my sheep."

Peter's misery increased. Obviously the Lord saw right through him and the profound limits of the meager, piddling love which was all he had to give.

Jesus stopped walking, stepped in front and put his hands on Peter's shoulders to look into his face, but Peter could only study his sandy feet. "Simon son of John, do you love me?"

Finally, Peter looks up and meets Jesus’ eyes. Tears gather. "Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you."

"Feed . . . my . . . sheep."

Feed my sheep. At last Peter is able to hear. It’s a commission. Even he, with all of his weakness and self-loathing, is not rejected. He is restored! The Lord will still use him. Can it be?

Jesus answers the question in Peter's eyes. "I tell you the truth, when you were young you dressed yourself and went where you wanted; but when you are old you will stretch out your hands, and someone else will dress you and lead you where you do not want to go.” These sobering words prophesied death. Peter understood. He was reinstated into the Kingdom he thought had been lost to him forever; this time he would be faithful until death. Jesus knew. Jesus could see it. Peter would still get an opportunity to bring glory to God. Relief and joy washed over him.

"Follow me," said Jesus. And Peter did.

In the days following, Peter and all the believers were filled with the Holy Spirit, so that they no longer sat wondering what to do. They had a broken world to reach with the message of Jesus' good news. On that Pentecost it is Peter who tells the people, "God has made this Jesus, whom you crucified, both Lord and Messiah.” And when the people hear this and are cut to the heart and ask what they should do, it is Peter who answers with confidence from his own rejection and restoration, “Repent and be baptized, every one of you, in the name of Jesus Christ for the forgiveness of your sins. And you will receive the gift of the Holy Spirit. The promise is for you and your children and for all who are far off—for all whom the Lord our God will call.”