On the Beach
On the Beach
John 21:15-19
Last week, we noticed that the story that begins with Jesus calling fishermen to follow him—promising that he would teach them how to fish for people—ends with the risen Christ teaching the fishermen how to catch fish. They’ve been out fishing all night and they’ve caught nothing. The former fishermen have tried to deal with grief and loss by going back to what they used to do—which never works for us either. The non-fishermen tried to deal with their grief by doing whatever someone else decided to do—that never works either. A long night of empty nets and despair ends when dawn breaks and the risen Jesus teases the disciples, “Kiddos…I’m not seeing any fish!” Then, he tells them to fish on the other side.
They catch the mother load of fish—the full net that every fisherman must have longed to pull up once in his life—153 fish. Interestingly, some scholars suggest that this very specific number was meant to indicate that they caught one of every known fish—a suggestion of inclusion—and the net does not break. Alas, though, that’s a sermon for another day…
As we noted last week, Peter realizes that it is the risen Christ who is on the beach. What does he do? It turns out he was fishing naked. (Don’t say, “Ewww!” to me. I’m just reading the text here…) What matters, though, isn’t the naked part. What matters is what Peter does next. Before he jumps in the water, he gets dressed. He covers himself up. It’s not often that you see someone put on more clothes just before going for a swim! What Peter is thinking about at almost the same instant that he recognizes Jesus is that he needs to cover himself. He has things to hide.
What’s he covering up? That’s the key to our time this morning. Before we answer this question, though, let’s remind ourselves of a few things about Peter. First, let’s remember that “Peter” was a nickname, given by Jesus, which meant “the rock.” (No…not the guy from the action movies!) Jesus names him “the rock” and then tells him that he will be the foundation upon which the church will be built. In assigning this nickname, we can assume that Jesus is telling him and everyone else in earshot that Peter is a solid guy.
In fact, I’ve always felt like there was a special relationship between Jesus and Peter. Peter is the big-hearted, burly, brave fisherman. For years, he fed a whole village, day in and day out, learning to read the sky and the sea, learning the secrets of laying out his nets. When he becomes a disciple, he brings all that confidence and strength and sheer force of will. He is “all in” which is one of the things that Jesus had to love about him. Peter was not a guy who was likely to hedge his bets. He was the guy who was going to get the job done.
Peter is also the guy who will cross the line between following Jesus and getting in Jesus’ way, over and over again. When Jesus speaks about the trials facing him, that he will suffer and be crucified and rise again, Peter goes bananas: “Not on my watch!” Jesus calls him Satan (which literally means, “the tempter”). Essentially, Jesus is saying, “Don’t tempt me! Get behind me. Get out of my way.” For Peter, you figure out what you want and then you get the job done! Remember, Jesus will pray in the garden, “Not my will but your will be done.” For a strong willed man like Peter, the notion of doing anyone’s will but his own was a completely foreign concept.
In another moment, when the disciples are trapped at sea, Jesus sees them in their distress and does whatever it takes to get to them. The disciples are terrified and think he’s a ghost. (What are you supposed to think when someone is walking on water, right?) While the rest of the boys are pondering all this, Peter says to Jesus, “I’d kind of like to take a walk myself!” Jesus had to be smiling at this point. There was such spirit in this man! How brave did Peter have to be to throw his leg over the side and start walking? However, strong will and confidence only took Peter a few steps. Doubts arose—which had to be a totally novel moment for the man who never doubted himself. As he’s sinking, Jesus grabs his hand and pulls him up.
When I think about Peter, I think about a guy I knew a long time ago for a very short time. His name was Mark Barrett. We were in Tokyo as AFS exchange students. Mark was perhaps the most outgoing guy that I’ve ever met. While the rest of us hedged on trying to speak Japanese, he was stopping every stranger and giving it a go. My favorite moment though was when he realized that we were staying at the same facility as a Sumo wrestling team. He found them and talked them into letting him join for a match. He invited all of us to come. And, to top things off, he had no embarrassment, whatsoever, about wearing that strange, diaper/athletic supporter that leaves very little to the imagination. The guy he was wrestling tossed him like a rag doll out of the ring. No one loved it more than Mark.
When I think about Peter, I think about all the people I’ve known in life who were just gifted. Some were writers. Some were artists or musicians. Some were incredible scholars. Whatever their gifts might have been, their success generated an almost unshakable confidence. They walked through life oozing this sense that just said, “I’ve got this!” Without question, they all were people who worked hard to hone the gifts that they’d been given. Their success was earned. However, it was also expected—by them and by those around them. Their success almost always made them people who really couldn’t understand others’ failures. Their success also insured that they were totally unprepared to fail.
When I think about Peter, I am reminded that there is nothing wrong with being gifted or working hard to hone those gifts. There is nothing wrong with being confident or wanting to be competent. However, when it comes to faith, what we are called to believe is that there is something even more important than me and what I can do one my own. What’s more important is what God can do through me. However, to open myself to what God can do through me would require me to humble myself and get out of God’s way. If I’ve been a leper or a foreigner or a woman in a sexist society or any other overlooked or ignored person, the world will have already humbled me. My struggle might be to think I had any worth at all. However, if I’m really talented, or really smart, or really strong, or I’ve been really successful then it is going to be really difficult to trust that humility could lead me anywhere worthwhile. It’s hard to hear God whispering, “I love you” when the voice in my head is still screaming, “I’ve got this!”
Peter still doesn’t get this on his final night with Jesus. As Jesus shares the last supper with his disciples and announces that he is about to be betrayed, Peter takes offense. Jesus tells him that Peter won’t be the betrayer. Instead, he’ll be the disciple who denies ever having known him three times and all of that will happen before dawn. Peter is enraged. Later, when the guards come with Judas to arrest Jesus, Peter draws his sword and moves to defend Jesus, cutting off the ear of one of the priest’s slaves. Jesus chastises Peter and tells him, “Put your sword back into its sheath. Am I not to drink the cup that the Father has given me?” In other words, "This isn’t about your will, Peter, or my will. This is about me making room for God’s will.” Jesus is dragged away. Three times in a row, people ask Peter if he wasn’t one of Jesus’ followers. Three times, Peter chooses to save his own skin and lie. Then, as the cock crows at dawn, Peter sobs. His is shattered.
Here’s the thing. If you’ve pretty much always prevailed at whatever you are good at, well, then congratulations to you! Here’s the problem, though. If you’ve always prevailed, then you are completely unprepared for the defeat which will come. You don’t know how to get up after you get knocked down because you’ve never been knocked down. You have no idea how to cope because you’ve never had to cope. You’ve always found a way to win…until the day when the person shows up who is younger or faster or smarter or just a smidge more talented. Then, you lose.
Here’s the even worse possibility. What if your “losing” moment rests not in someone else’s abilities or youth or strength but in your own previously hidden, broken self? Peter wasn’t overpowered by anyone who was faster or smarter or younger or more talented. Peter was blinded by his own pride. He always thought he knew better than anyone else. Even more centrally, he always figured he could be better than anyone else. So, when Jesus tells him that he will deny ever having known Jesus at all, the refrain that is going off in Peter’s head is this: “I would never do that! I could never do that! That will never happen!” All of which is fine, until Peter does exactly what he thought he could never do.
Peter’s ego is mortally wounded from that moment on. He loved Jesus. He did one of the worst things that anyone could do to someone whom they loved. And, before he ever did this, the one he loved knew that Peter would do this. Jesus knew Peter so well that he knew that Peter was totally unprepared to be deathly afraid and still be his best self. Things were about to spiral so far down that Peter would feel like all was lost.
This is why our text this morning matters so much. Jesus appears on the beach and has breakfast with the disciples. Then, he turns to Peter and says, “Simon, son of John, do you love me more than these?” The first thing to hear is the name, “Simon.” Imagine having been given a loving nickname and then having that nickname disappear: “Am I not ‘the rock’ anymore? Well… I deserve that.” Then, feel the bite of the question: “Do you love me more than these?” What? Do I love you more than 153 fish? Do I love you more than the other disciples? What are you asking here? Yes, Lord, you know that I love you!” Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” Jesus asks a second time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” “What a terrible question,” Peter must have thought. “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus says, “Tend my sheep.” Then, a third time, Jesus asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter answers, “Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.” Jesus says, “Feed my sheep.” The bottom line is that if you love me, there’s work to be done. Are you ready to get to work?
Three times, Peter denied Jesus. Three times, Peter is confronted by Jesus. What emerges is forgiveness that maybe starts the moment when Peter acknowledges that it is Jesus, not Peter, who knows everything. Peter will be the foundation for the church but not as the guy who could do anything better than anyone else but as the guy who broke but was forgiven. When he was drowning, Jesus’ hand caught his and saved him. When he was full of himself and blustering hard, Jesus told him to get out of the way but still treated him as a beloved friend. When all seemed lost and his worst self had been revealed, Jesus looked Peter and in the eye and said the words with which the whole journey began, words which Peter was finally ready to take to heart: “Follow me!”