John 21:1-19
/ Easter 3 / April 19, 2026
The Great Catch
John August Swanson
Have you ever promised
to do something and then failed at it?
A
diet, losing weight, eating clean,
getting
and keeping a certain job, getting a degree,
going
to the gym, quitting smoking or drinking,
praying,
meditating, not yelling.
Maybe
it was a project you didn’t complete,
or
it didn’t end up the way you wanted.
Maybe
something more consequential than those even.
We’ve all had
this experience of letting others down—
or
letting ourselves down—at one time or another.
Some
of us to more serious degrees than others.
I
think it’s a feeling we’ve all had at one time or another.
I
know I have.
Peter knew
that feeling that day on the lake.
Peter
had made a promise to Jesus in front everyone
at
that last meal they had together. Proudly, confidently,
he
said he would lay down his life for Jesus.
I’m sure he
meant it when he said it.
His
head and his heart were filled with
bravado
and security in his own will and courage.
I’m
sure he felt the loyalty and dedication to Jesus
and
he felt gratitude to Jesus for trusting him.
Jesus had
picked Peter out. He called him
out
of the monotonous, soul-crushing
and
debt-ridden life of commercial fishing and
called
him into a life of abundance, grace, risk,
spiritual
depth, wonder, and service to others.
I’m
sure that Peter was feeling gratitude about that
when
he made that promise to Jesus.
I’m
sure that he meant it when he said:
“I will
follow you to death.”
Of course,
Jesus knew better.
Jesus
knew human frailty and fear, and he knew Peter.
He
told Peter that he would deny even knowing Jesus.
Not
once or twice, but three times before the cock crowed.
And sure
enough, that’s what happened.
After
Jesus was arrested, when Peter was identified
as
one of Jesus disciples, Peter denied it three times.
He didn’t follow Jesus to his death,
even
at the threat of merely being identified,
he
ran he hid, he denied.
He
wouldn’t even admit he knew Jesus to a powerless servant girl.
And this whole thing was probably
running
through Peter’s head when he saw
the
risen Jesus in that upper room.
Sure,
at first he was excited about seeing Jesus,
but
he was probably also thinking later:
“Jesus knows
how I failed him and everyone.
Jesus knows
what a chicken I am.
Jesus knows
how I don’t deserve
the life and
the responsibility and position he gave me.”
So Peter and
the others decided to go back to fishing.
Back
into the soul crushing, dead-end life that they came from.
With
Jesus dead and them all failures at following,
what
else were they supposed to do?
It
was all Peter knew how to do
It’s
probably all he thought he deserved.
And they’re
in the middle of returning to that life
the
risen Jesus calls out to them from the shore again.
Jesus tells
them to fish over the other side of the boat.
and they catch a lot of fish.
And the disciples recognize Jesus.
They go to him and have breakfast with him.
And
after that, Jesus talks to Peter alone.
Surely,
the weight of Peter’s failure was hanging between them.
Notice that when
they talk, Jesus doesn’t call him “Peter”,
the
name Jesus gave him when he became his disciple.
he
calls him by his given name,
“Simon,
son of John” his name in his old life,
the
life that he’s decided to return to.
He asks him a
loaded question,
“Simon, son
of John, do you love me more than these?”
Now if we only read this in English, we miss
some of the meaning of this exchange.
In
Greek, the language John’s Gospel was written in,
there
are many different words for love.
There
is agape, which is sacrificial, unconditional,
almost
divine love. It’s the love we hear about mostly when
we talk about in the gospels. How God loves, it’s
the love that “bears all things, believes all things,
hopes
all things, endures all things.”
Love
that gives without expecting anything in return.
Another
word for love is phila, which is friendship, fondness
Brotherly
or sisterly love.
Where
the name Philadelphia comes from.
There
are also different words for love like romantic love,
flirty
love, short-lived, long-term, instinctual love like a parent for a child, the
list is long.
But
the ones we’re focusing on is Agape and Philo.
Jesus’
first question to Peter uses the word agape.
“Simon,
son of John, do you agape me?”
But
Peter answers Jesus.
“Lord,
you know that I philia you.”
Phila can be real and deep. It’s Affection. Loyalty. Care.
But
it’s not self-sacrificial like agape.
It’s
as if Peter is saying:
“I do love you, Lord… but after how I behaved,
when the chips were down,
I don’t know if I can claim that kind of perfect,
self-giving love.” All Simon
Peter can say is that he is fond of Jesus.
A
second time Jesus asks, “Simon son of John, do you agape me?”
And
again Simon Peter answers,
not able to say that he loves Jesus sacrificially. “Yes,
you know that I phila you.”
And
Jesus tells him to tend his sheep.
And
a third time Jesus asks Simon Peter.
But
this time he asks him:
“Simon,
son of John, do you phila me?”
Simon
Peter can’t bring up the hubris
of
his previous claim to undying loyalty he had before.
Peter
doesn’t trust himself or his ability anymore.
So
Jesus asks: “Okay Peter if that’s all you can promise,
do
you love me as a friend?”
And
finally, Peter can agree to that.
And
then Jesus still gives him the same request:
The
same call: Feed my sheep.
Jesus
meets Peter where he was.
Just
like Jesus met Thomas where he was
in
the last encounter when he was full of doubt.
And
when he finds Peter there, realizing that he could not
give
all that he hoped to Jesus, Jesus still commissions him,
he
still gives him a mission and a calling.
Jesus does not reject Peter’s imperfect love.
It
is still good enough. Jesus will use it, bless it, send it into the world.
Feed
my sheep. Tend my lambs. Feed my sheep.
I
think many of us live somewhere in Peter’s answer.
We
want to love deeply.
We want to be faithful.
We want to give ourselves fully.
But
we all have limitations.
We
have other priorities, we have fears, we have caution,
we
have apprehensions, and self-preservation.
We know our shortcomings.
The times we’ve turned away.
The times our love has fallen short.
If Jesus were to ask us,
“Do you love me with everything you are?”
if we were honest with ourselves we might say,
“Lord… you know I love you… but not perfectly.”
And
the good news is that Jesus meets us there.
He
speaks to us in the language we can answer.
He
receives the love we are able to give.
And
then—amazingly—he entrusts us with his work anyway.
“Feed
my sheep.”
And
by the way, there is the second mission as a church that we
are given by the risen Jesus: feeding people
in all the ways that means. Forgiveness,
and feeding others.
we
have been scarred, and broken, and lost.
We’ve
all gone smugly into something, just to fail,
or
get scared, or become disillusioned, or bored, or cynical or weak.
We might
think that the best thing for God to do
would
be to let us go, let us go away
and
find someone else who’s better or more qualified.
But the truth is, we are God’s entire
ministry plan
We
are it. There is no back up.
There
is no other option for God.
There
are no alternatives.
No
other less-fallible super-humans waiting in the wings.
God has put
all his trust into people like Peter.
And
God has bet everything on us.
We are God’s whole plan. All God has are
fallible, weak, fearful, often selfish humans.
And
we are called back into service again and again.
Called to care for this world and the things in it.
To feed the lambs and the sheep.
We are called to forgive others and to forgive
ourselves too.
As
broken and as faulty as we can be, God will use us.
God
needs is our love, however much we can muster.
And
everything else will come out of that.
As many times
as we mess up
and
don’t live up to our own expectations,
though
we love with an imperfect love
we
are called to a life of abundance, depth and service to others
We
are called over and over into a new life with God.
Feed my
lambs, tend my sheep, feed my sheep.
Jesus
says, follow me.
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