A Seaside Discussion

I invite you to turn in your copy of the Scriptures to John 21.  

John appears to have reached the conclusion to his Gospel by the end of chapter 20 when he reveals the reason that he’s written his Gospel.  He says that in these 20 chapters he’s been making the case to Jewish people that Jesus is the Messiah, so that in believing that they’ll have life in His name. 

So then why does John add this chapter that Marsha just read?  Well, the events and conversations in the last chapter of John relay what will be involved in following Jesus now that you believe.  Chapter 21 acts as a manual on discipleship to the Risen Lord.  

The big lesson on discipleship from the first half of the chapter is: much of discipleship is, simply, listening to Him.

Also, from that early morning fishing haul and the following breakfast scene we can take away another lesson: John shows the importance of fellowship around the table in being Jesus’ disciple. 

Listen to Jesus.  Eat together in Jesus’ name.  This is the way.

But there’s more that God’s Spirit through John wants to convey about following Jesus.  This morning we’ll look at that post-breakfast conversation that Jesus has with Peter.  

Did Peter and Jesus have their conversation away from the group, perhaps on a seaside walk?  I think you could read it that way, and a private conversation makes sense, because you can imagine there’s some awkwardness bristling under the surface.  Although Jesus and Peter had already seen each other since Peter’s three-time public denial of his Lord, it seems like that hadn’t yet been brought up.  

In a way, this conversation is Jesus confronting Peter about his denial, but he does so indirectly.  Jesus doesn’t avoid the painful discussions, but here at least he goes about it gently.  Let’s be clear, and take wisdom from the fact: we have no record of Jesus rubbing Peter’s failure in his face.  In fact, in this conversation Jesus never directly refers to the past; rather he’s pointing Peter to the future – Peter, there’s work to do, and you – you! – are on deck.

And as with other sections of this chapter, in their conversation principles of following the Risen Lord come to the surface.  Principles that apply to all of us.  That universal application is especially clear here, since Peter is the Rock upon which Christ will build his church.  When Jesus speaks to Peter, it’s him speaking through him to the Church through the centuries.  So here are lessons the Church will need as it goes forward in this age.  

Try to imagine Jesus’ expression when, after walking in silence, he pauses and turns to Peter: Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?  Who the “these” are isn’t spelled out, but a good possibility is that Jesus is asking Peter, “do you love me more than these other disciples love me?”

Remember the night Jesus was betrayed Peter had said, “Though they all fall away because of you, I will never fall away!”  “I will lay down my life for you.”  Is that still your line, Peter?

[Pause]

Notice Jesus calls him, Simon, son of John.  Hearing him call Peter by his surname, your mind goes back to the first time the two of them met, recorded in the first chapter, and Jesus says to him, You are Simon the son of John.  I believe these are the only two times where Jesus calls him that, at the very start and now.  It’s like he’s reaching across the years they’ve spent together.

Peter, after all that’s happened since that day, let’s take stock, and let me ask you Do you love me?  You do realize that’s what these three years have been about?

Peter’s reply is affirmative, though he doesn’t say anything about the more than: “Yes Lord, you know that I love you” – I’m not going to say anything about anyone else, compare my love to others, but I do love you.  Why would you ask that? – you know I do.  

Then Jesus asks again.  How much time between these questions, we wonder?  This time Jesus doesn’t ask if Peter loves him more, only if He loves him:  Simon son of John, do you love me?  

With the repeated question, I imagine Peter – in his mind, I mean – going on the offensive.  Oh, so you you’re asking again?  You’re making a point here!  You’re challenging me!  Ok, I messed up but who doesn’t?  You were right about that night, but you know those denials were out of character.  Yes, Lord, You KNOW I love You.  

But again, he’ll get no return argument from Jesus. 

But then a little later there’s a third advance: Simon, son of John, do you love me?  And finally, after three questions which recall his three denials, Peter runs out of defensiveness, stops taking offense, and he’s grieved.  

Really interesting!  There’s been nothing religious or formulaic spoken.  It’s just a thrice repeated question on the beach after breakfast.  But God is Spirit and knows his way around spirits.  He searches and finds people’s hearts.  Peter, very gently, has been laid bare.

Church, if God wills, if he is gracious to you, he will lay you bare.  And you’ll be taught the priority…the urgency…of loving Jesus.  

Lord you know everything  – you know the whole truth about everything, including me.  And the whole truth is that I’ve done messed up.  You know I wilted under pressure, I loved my safety and self-respect more than you.  You know within there’s some shabbiness and weakness and… contradiction.  

But you also know I love you.  

The persistent question that runs through our discipleship is not one that we’re asking others, but that Jesus is asking us.  It’s a question that’s simple, deep, personal: Jesus ask you…you…you.  Do you love me?   

Maybe like Peter you are the enthusiastic one out of the bunch: Peter has just thrown himself into the water to go meet Jesus first.  In v. 10 Jesus gives instructions and it’s Peter that leaps to do it.  Are you like Peter?  Ready to act? A worker? 

Do you love me?  

Maybe you’re a Reformed dispensational neo-Calvinist Arminian.  You’re all the things. 

Do you love me?   

There are many reasons to go about Christianity.  There is an intellectual challenge.  There is a community that has your back.  There is an ongoing mission which invites your entrepreneurial sense.  There is habit and rhythm.  Your mom might be happy to see you in church.  The Gospel fuels creativity.  Something to put on your dating profile.  Provides something for your resume.  Gives you peace.  Purpose. 

But all of these considerations and benefits pale before the priority of Jesus’ question: Do you love me?  

You’re not being a hippy when, if someone asks if you’re Protestant or Baptist or whatever, and your reply is “I love Jesus.” 

Hey Conservatives, you’re not being owned by the libs if your chief political identity is “I’m a I-love-Jesus-ican.”  

Men, you’re not caving to the feminine spirit if you say, “I hunt, I ride motorcycles, I cut off my finger and didn’t go to the doctor… and I love Jesus.” 

The Spirit of Jesus this morning asks you the old question: Do you love me?

Three times Jesus asks.  Three times Peter replies.  And each time Peter affirms his love for Jesus, he is given the same directive.  Take care of my sheep.  

Three times I do love you.  And three times, Jesus stares at Peter for a second.  Then…  

Feed my lambs.  Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.

Quick look at the big picture:  Have you seen the game where the tight end drops the ball a couple of times, but then at the crucial moment when a score is needed the coach goes back to him?  That’s the Gospel’s trajectory.  The big meta-narrative is about not just redemption… but restoration. 

God creates humans as image bearers with certain responsibilities.  We mess up.  God acts with incredible commitment to redeem us:  Jesus was crucified for our sins.  

And then, as Jesus rose again, and we are baptized into the resurrection of Jesus, God says to us: I’m putting you back in.  And the ball is coming to you.  You’re not just a reclamation; I have big plans for you.  

Peter fails.  Peter fails.  Peter shows himself a coward.  

Jesus doesn’t just say, I forgive you.  He puts him in on 4th and goal with five seconds left and says, it’s going to Peter.  

We are saved through Christ’s blood.  And then are given a summary responsibility:

Feed my lambs.  Tend my sheep.  Feed my sheep.

What is meant by Jesus’ sheep?  His people.  Jesus once said: I am the good shepherd.  The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.  Us.  

It’s simple.  Love Jesus.  And out of love for Jesus, care for His people.  Including the lambs – the young and vulnerable and spiritually immature. 

Here is truth and some corollaries: Jesus never grows tired of identifying himself with his people, the Church.  Just one example, after Saul had gone around locking up and otherwise persecuting the early Church, when Jesus meets him on the way to Syria, he says to him, Saul, why are you persecuting…ME?

There is an integral tie between loving Jesus and loving His people, the Church.  Much…most… of how we express our love to Jesus now is through loving His people.  When we draw back from His people we are failing at loving Jesus.  We cannot love Jesus and hate the brothers.  

Also, we care for the Church and indeed lay down our lives for the Church out of our love for Jesus.  Not primarily because the Church is nice back to us.  Or because, for instance, feeding children the Word of God is consistently enjoyable.  

Hear Jesus’ question: Do you love me?  

And then, out of love for Jesus, serve the Church:

  • Be at peace with one another
  • Be devoted to one another
  • Honor one another above yourselves
  • Live in harmony with one another
  • Let no debt remain standing except the continuing debt to love one another
  • Build up one another
  • Accept one another
  • Serve one another
  • Carry each other’s burdens
  • Bear with one another in love
  • Be kind and compassionate to one another
  • Forgive each other
  • Submit to one another
  • Regard one another as more important than yourselves
  • Do not lie to one another
  • Comfort one another
  • Encourage one another
  • Consider how to spur one another on toward love and good works

Peter retained what Jesus said on the beach that morning.  Writing a letter to fellow disciples 30 years later, listen to what he says to them: Though you do not see [Jesus Christ] you love him…Above all, [Church], love each other deeply, because love covers a multitude of sins. Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others [in the Church], faithfully administering God’s grace in various forms.

Ok, so Peter has been moved to repentant grief and Jesus knows it.  Jesus hasn’t needed to hear a certain religious formula coming from Peter’s mouth – He recognizes the broken and contrite heart when He sees it.  And so, Peter is a restored disciple with a clear directive: care for My people.  

But now the conversation turns strange, and, at first hearing, seemingly dark.  For some reason, Jesus directs Peter to start thinking about his future.  His future contrasted with his past.  When he was young vs when you was old.  So far, so good.

When you were young you had independence, you did what you wanted.  You chose how you presented yourself to the world.  You planned your days.  

But I’ll tell you where things are heading.  I want you to know that when you are old you will stretch out your hands – this is an expression that widely referred to crucifixion.  

Another will dress you: You will not choose how the world sees you – there’s probably some irony here: the dressing is really the un-dressing of crucifixion. 

You’ll be taken where you don’t want to go.  

Here’s where your life is heading, Jesus says to Peter.  Your life of following me.  Freedom, dignity, mobility will be taken from you.  

Arms extended on the crosspiece, clothes crassly pulled off, and then with you fastened to it, the crosspiece will be picked up and dropped into a hole.  And then you’ll die slowly, painfully, shamefully.  

(Do you want another cup of coffee, Peter?)

Oh, Jesus!  You can come off so cruel!

This doesn’t seem fair.  Not just the ghastly death part… but also telling Peter about it.  None of us likes thinking about our death nor knows the circumstance of our death.  But we can at least hope that we’ll die peacefully in our sleep after a day spent with family and friends engaged in interesting conversation that perhaps touches on how meaningful our lives have been, all closed out by a beautiful sunset.  

But think about Peter.  One future day he’s out to the beach with the family and the kids are building sand castles and it’s a lovely scene, and then this conversation pops back into his mind: crucifixion!  That’s where this is headed!  

He’s planning to add a wing to his house and as he studies the blueprint, the thought washes over him – taken where you don’t want to go!  

As Jesus provides Peter with this dark glimpse of his future, he’s also providing to him, and indeed through him to all of us, a lesson of discipleship: In following Jesus we are given no guarantees of the course or outcome of this life.  

There is nothing wrong with arranging for a low stress, comfortable, independent future.  Indeed, there’s some wisdom in such prudence.  But your Lord might have other plans.  

And issues of comfort, low stress, independence cannot be final factors in how we orient our lives.  

The ultimate direction setter has to be this: Follow me.  Stay with Jesus and do what you know He’s telling you.  

No matter where that takes you.  And it might take where you don’t want to go.  But Follow me.  

In following Jesus we have given up the right to manage our lives so as to make our will and desires the ultimate direction setter.  There’s no other way of following the Lord.

And he said to them all, If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me.

Ok, so that was our last point.  And you’re thinking: are you serious, are you leaving us with on that gloomy note?  Especially on Easter Sunday?  

Well, this is actually good news.  Let me quickly explain.  

Hearing and buying into Jesus say “Follow me” is strangely satisfying because it’s clear.  

  • Does Jesus guarantee us a happy ending to this life?  NO  
  • If I follow Christ will my circumstances build upon each other leaving me at the end more prosperous than I’d ever been?  NOT NECESSARILY  
  • Will Jesus be fair, in this way: that if my life is painful all the other follower of Christ’s lives will be equally painful?  NO  

But I don’t want much.  I just want to put down roots somewhere.  Have enough room for the kids and the grandkids to come back and visit.  Be able to save for a comfortable retirement.  Have a place to garden.  

Surely these are ok to wish for?  YES  

So that’s what God intends?  I DON’T KNOW  

He did this for my sister.  YES

Can’t I have faith that He’ll do this for me?  NO

So what have I got? 

Follow me.  

Clarity…realism…YES PLEASE!  Good news!

But the good news continues.  Remember who is speaking to Peter about his cruel future. Peter heard of his crucifixion from Someone who had already gone through it, though Jesus’ experience was far more sinister and infinitely traumatic.  

Yes, that Someone had gone down into that undiscovered country called death, taken its best shot, in turn delivered it a deadly blow, skinned it, gutted it, rose again while dragging it out of hell.  And now death hangs on his wall – his conquest, his trophy.    

It’s that One telling Peter follow me into your death.  I’ve been there, done that; and when you’re there, doing that, it’ll be while following me…that is, I’ll be there with you, all the way.  

And not just be there whispering soothing murmurs in your ear.  Death is the Risen Lord’s conquest, his trophy…and his tool.  Jesus, the Lord who loves his people and has an incredibly stout heart, uses every stage of decline and death to train and shape and prepare you for what’s next, and to outfit you so that you, image bearer, even in death are doing what you’re made to do: glorify God.  

So, Peter wouldn’t face his death alone, but with Jesus.

Friends, as your memory starts slipping, as you feel an irregular heartbeat, as you see blood show up where it shouldn’t: isn’t it consoling to know that you’re not alone?  And that your Companion who has pledged to stay with you has once passed through death and shorn off its sting?  And that he is using even your decline and death for your good and God’s glory?    

Dying with Jesus is scary, and probably painful.  And should be avoided as long as possible.  But it’s also good.  I say that as a Christian minister who believes death should be hated, that it’s alien and ugly and terrible and evil.  

But in the hands of the Risen Lord, the terrible tool is turned to productive ends.

So, three great lessons of discipleship to Jesus captured by three simple phrases:  

Do you love me?  Feed my sheep.  Follow me.

Friends, go with Jesus.  

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