Introduction

This talk was given at St. Peter’s Church on 29 June by Revd. Mark Fletcher. The focus is John 21:14-19 Peter’s restoration—that remarkable encounter on the beach where Jesus meets Peter after his resurrection and transforms his shame into purpose through three simple questions about love.

There is a famous poem by Shelley, which speaks of a traveler in a desert land who discovers a huge toppled statue, half buried in the sand. And on the plinth he can make out the words: “My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings. Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair.” But of course, nothing else remains but the desert sands, which stretch for miles.

It’s a brilliant observation on the fact that so much of the things that human beings strive for—so much of our pride and our desire for significance—ultimately comes to nothing. What does it mean to leave a lasting legacy on this earth? And I suspect that there are few in history who have a legacy like St. Peter. We remember him to this day. This church is named for him. He remains a profound influence on the history of the world, and yet, of course, his journey went not by way of success but by failure; not by triumph, but by humiliation. Remember, he failed as a disciple. He denied Jesus—not just once, but three times.

Can you imagine the shame he would have felt as the cockerel crowed? And did you hear, in our story, he’s fishing again—which, as far as I can remember, is the very thing that he left behind when he left everything to follow Jesus. He has gone back to the one thing he thought he was ever any good at—and ironically, it turns out he’s not even very good at that.

And then we come to a wonderful scene: a beach, early in the morning, a charcoal fire baking bread and grilling freshly caught fish, and an invitation from Jesus to come and eat. It’s so simple, and yet it is heavenly. And the friends and the disciples are sitting around, slightly overawed with what’s going on, but also full of joy—except, perhaps, Peter, who I think is probably sitting at a little bit of a distance and not making eye contact with Jesus.

And when breakfast is over, Jesus looks at him and asks a question. What is the question? Well, I wonder what Peter thought was coming at this point. I’m sure he expected a stern rebuke or perhaps a final warning: Listen, Peter, I’ll forgive you, but this is the last time. But it’s not that, is it? It’s a question, and it says, Simon Peter, son of John, do you love me?

We often live with guilt and shame, and we remember the ways that we fall short. But the danger is that we allow those things to keep us at a distance from God. In fact, it’s our pride. And there are many people who stand at a distance from God their whole lives. But the measure was never: are you good enough?

This is a place only for forgiven sinners. And that is Simon Peter. And that is you and me. That is all of us. But did you notice that Jesus actually said to Simon Peter, Simon Peter, do you love me more than all of these? Why do you think that is? Why is Simon Peter asked a greater love than the rest of us?

Well, my suspicion is that it’s because he is to be the leader of the early church. He is the rock upon which the church is built, and his qualification is not his courage or his boldness, but his great love. Those who would lead must love deeply. What is the qualification for leadership in Christ’s church?

I hope it’s to be intelligent, and wise, and erudite, and creative, and compassionate. These are all good things. But the foundation of all Christian ministry is love. And what is the goal of the Christian life? To bring our gifts, and our passions, and our creativity, and all that we have to the service of Christ and of his people?

Yes, of course. But there is no greater thing than love. May our legacy be love. Now, what’s interesting is that Peter’s response to Jesus shows that largely he takes this for granted. Perhaps we do too. Three times Jesus asked him the question; three times Peter says, You know that I love you. As if it wasn’t that big a deal, as if it didn’t matter that much.

And of course, our world, just as Peter’s, values strong leaders—but nothing is more important than love. And nothing is more important than love for Jesus. In fact, the thing that hurts Peter most is that he is asked three times. Why is that so painful? I don’t think it’s simply that Jesus seems to doubt it, but that those three questions mirror Peter’s denial.

Remember, Peter denied Jesus three times. Jesus asked Peter three times: Do you love me? And in love, Jesus helps Peter to face up to his failings. Peter is fallible, and he allows his flaws to be known. In fact, it’s one of the most notable things about what we know of Peter from the New Testament—his flaws are not hidden.

Our tendency is to want to sweep things under the carpet. Yes, I have these flaws, but I’d rather people didn’t see them. Let’s look at the things that I’m good at. But what Jesus says is, No, let’s look at the failings. Let’s look them straight in the eye. Because there we realize that we are loved not for what we do, but simply for who we are—and that is how we heal, and how we grow.

And we need to grow. We need to learn. And perhaps the greatest thing that we learn is to love. There’s a quote—one of my favourites—is Nat King Cole. He said, “The greatest thing that you will ever learn is simply to love and be loved in return.” Love is not something that we fall into. It’s not simply something that we feel. It is something that we learn—and to love when times are hard, to love when people are difficult—that is the love of Christ at work in us.

So this beautiful scene—this charcoal fire on a beach, this breakfast, and this reconciliation—and with that comes Peter’s commission.

And the commission is equally simple. Jesus says to Peter, Feed my sheep. And if love is the foundation of all Christian ministry, then the task is as simple as that: that job of caring for the people of God, of leading them to green pastures and still waters that will restore their souls. Ministry can seem intensely complicated and overwhelming.

But that—hold onto that—that we can do. And is it enough? Well, it doesn’t seem so. But I believe that it is. Because ultimately, of course, this isn’t my ministry, and it’s not our ministry. It is Christ’s ministry. And these are not Peter’s sheep—these are Jesus’ sheep. He says to Peter, Feed my sheep. It’s Jesus who is the good shepherd.

He is the one who leads us, and heals us, and binds us up, and protects us. Peter’s job is simply to lead them to the places where they can be fed—in Scripture, in prayer, and in the sacraments.

Final thing to say. Jesus is very clear that the way of Christian leadership is costly. And so in verse 18, Jesus ends by telling Peter—well, he talks about the end of his life. And there’s a nice irony here.

It turns out that Peter was right. I don’t know if you remember—in the story of his betrayal, he had said to Jesus, Jesus, I will follow you even unto death. And Jesus said, Listen, Peter, by the end of the night you will have betrayed me three times. But of course, Peter actually was right, and he would follow Jesus even unto death.

And he was faithful. And he was a martyr—probably in Rome. And it’s a strange thing to live with. And yet, strangely enough, Peter seems liberated by this. By knowing his calling, he is freed from the illusion of being in control. He is able to live joyfully for Christ, and is able to be faithful—even to the end of his life.

I’m struck that the way of Christ is the way of letting go of our belief that we are in control. The way of faith is trusting God for our future—not relying on our own resources. And he is a good shepherd—even in the darkest times. Jesus simply says, Follow me.

One last observation. That scene of the bonfire on the beach is beautiful—that good food and old friends, in the midst of the beauty of creation and the presence of the risen Christ.

But I’m struck that there is something of eternity in that. It’s almost a glimpse of the new creation—the new heaven and the new earth. And that is the thing to which we look forward. The Bible doesn’t promise us heaven on a cloud with harps—and to me, that’s a blessed relief. It is the presence of Christ in the midst of a renewed creation.

And for me, that is a glimpse of the thing to which we look forward. So what does the way of Christ look like? What does life look like if we follow Jesus? I don’t think I can say. Where will you live, or where will the money come from? What will the future hold? I don’t think we know the answer to that.

Jesus simply says, Follow me. And if that sounds too hard—if you need more security—I’ll tell you where the security is found. What we are offered is: breakfast on the beach, daily bread, the presence of Christ, and love. And that is enough. Day by day, that daily bread is the thing that sustains us through the journey, through the wilderness—all the days of our life.

Someone famously said, “You don’t always get what you want, but if you try sometimes, you might just find you get what you need.”

Amen.