John 21:1-19
May 5, 2019
First Presbyterian Church, Sterling, IL
Christina Berry
It’s the third Sunday of Easter
and John’s gospel brings us another post-resurrection appearance.
Jesus has appeared to the disciples twice in the upper room,
but they decide to return home to their old lives.
In this scripture, some unspecified time after his resurrection,
Jesus appears to them by the Sea of Tiberias.
They are surprised, and changed, by this encounter with the Risen Lord.
The same may be true of us!
Even though Easter Sunday is past, the Easter season continues.
In fact, it will be Easter now until Pentecost, fifty days after Easter Sunday.
We are still in the season of the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus.
But like his disciples, we may have returned to life as usual.
Jesus, our Risen Lord, calls us to something more than life as usual.
Let’s listen for God’s word to us in John 21:1-19
After these things Jesus showed himself again to the disciples
by the Sea of Tiberias; and he showed himself in this way.
Gathered there together were Simon Peter, Thomas called the Twin,
Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee,
and two others of his disciples.
and two others of his disciples.
Simon Peter said to them, "I am going fishing."
They said to him, "We will go with you."
They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach;
but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus.
Jesus said to them, "Children, you have no fish, have you?"
They answered him, "No."
He said to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat,
and you will find some."
So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in
because there were so many fish.
That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!"
When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord,
he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.
They said to him, "We will go with you."
They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
Just after daybreak, Jesus stood on the beach;
but the disciples did not know that it was Jesus.
Jesus said to them, "Children, you have no fish, have you?"
They answered him, "No."
He said to them, "Cast the net to the right side of the boat,
and you will find some."
So they cast it, and now they were not able to haul it in
because there were so many fish.
That disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, "It is the Lord!"
When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord,
he put on some clothes, for he was naked, and jumped into the sea.
But the other disciples came in the boat,
dragging the net full of fish,
for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
When they had gone ashore,
they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread.
Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught."
So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore,
full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them;
and though there were so many, the net was not torn.
dragging the net full of fish,
for they were not far from the land, only about a hundred yards off.
When they had gone ashore,
they saw a charcoal fire there, with fish on it, and bread.
Jesus said to them, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught."
So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore,
full of large fish, a hundred fifty-three of them;
and though there were so many, the net was not torn.
Jesus said to them, "Come and have breakfast."
Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?"
because they knew it was the Lord.
Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them,
and did the same with the fish.
This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples
after he was raised from the dead.
When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
"Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?"
He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."
A second time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Tend my sheep."
He said to him the third time, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?"
And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything;
you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep.
Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger,
you used to fasten your own belt
and to go wherever you wished.
But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will fasten a belt around you
and take you where you do not wish to go."
(He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.)
After this he said to him, "Follow me."
The word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
When I came up with a sermon title,
I chose “Faith, Fish, and the Feeding of Lambs.”
I liked the alliteration.
But I should have included “failure” and “follow me.”
Failure.
That was what characterized their efforts, as far as they could tell.
For three years, they’d left everything behind –
boats, nets, family, livelihood, hometowns,
- everything –
so that they could follow Jesus.
And it was all for nothing.
It was all a big failure, ending in death, discouragement, disappointment.
Nothing else to do but return to the old ways: go fishing.
They knew how to do that, and most of the time, they caught something.
But not that night.
They fished all night, and caught nothing.
It was dawn, and the nets were empty.
Their shoulders ached, and they were hungry and tired.
So when the guy on the beach asked, “Catchin’ anything?”
They said no, and when he suggested they cast their nets
on the other side of the boat,
well, maybe he could see the shoals and sandbars better from the shore.
Whatever it was, the nets were full, to heavy to haul into the boat.
The enormous catch was what made them realize: it is the Lord!
Peter couldn’t, wouldn’t wait, to get to shore.
He jumped in and swam to get to Jesus.
Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, "Who are you?"
because they knew it was the Lord.
Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them,
and did the same with the fish.
This was now the third time that Jesus appeared to the disciples
after he was raised from the dead.
When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter,
"Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?"
He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my lambs."
A second time he said to him, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
He said to him, "Yes, Lord; you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Tend my sheep."
He said to him the third time, "Simon son of John, do you love me?"
Peter felt hurt because he said to him the third time, "Do you love me?"
And he said to him, "Lord, you know everything;
you know that I love you."
Jesus said to him, "Feed my sheep.
Very truly, I tell you, when you were younger,
you used to fasten your own belt
and to go wherever you wished.
But when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands,
and someone else will fasten a belt around you
and take you where you do not wish to go."
(He said this to indicate the kind of death by which he would glorify God.)
After this he said to him, "Follow me."
The word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
When I came up with a sermon title,
I chose “Faith, Fish, and the Feeding of Lambs.”
I liked the alliteration.
But I should have included “failure” and “follow me.”
Failure.
That was what characterized their efforts, as far as they could tell.
For three years, they’d left everything behind –
boats, nets, family, livelihood, hometowns,
- everything –
so that they could follow Jesus.
And it was all for nothing.
It was all a big failure, ending in death, discouragement, disappointment.
Nothing else to do but return to the old ways: go fishing.
They knew how to do that, and most of the time, they caught something.
But not that night.
They fished all night, and caught nothing.
It was dawn, and the nets were empty.
Their shoulders ached, and they were hungry and tired.
So when the guy on the beach asked, “Catchin’ anything?”
They said no, and when he suggested they cast their nets
on the other side of the boat,
well, maybe he could see the shoals and sandbars better from the shore.
Whatever it was, the nets were full, to heavy to haul into the boat.
The enormous catch was what made them realize: it is the Lord!
Peter couldn’t, wouldn’t wait, to get to shore.
He jumped in and swam to get to Jesus.
Every time I hear this story I wonder what I’d have done,
had I been in Peter’s place.
After all they’d been through together,
Peter must’ve felt a confusing swirl of emotions.
Nothing had turned out the way he expected.
had I been in Peter’s place.
After all they’d been through together,
Peter must’ve felt a confusing swirl of emotions.
Nothing had turned out the way he expected.
I don’t know what the protocol is for a disciple,
after they execute your messiah.
We do know that most movements, of any sort,
are severely damaged or destroyed
when their leader is killed.
The Center for Combatting Terrorism at West Point
did a study to find out what happens to movements
when their leader is assassinated.
They found that “political assassinations seem to intensify prospects
of a state’s fragmentation and undermine its democratic nature.”
That means, in simple terms, a decline in political participation
and a disproportionate increase in the strength of the executive branch.”
The study goes on to say: “… The assassination of opposition leaders
has a limited impact on the nature of a political system,
but has the potential to lead to an increase
in overall unrest and domestic violence.”[1]
That’s certainly what the Roman oppressors expected
after they executed Jesus: unrest and violence.
But what about his followers?
What were they supposed to do?
It was over.
They went home.
But then he came back.
Not just once, but over and over.
And he made them understand that he wasn’t finished.
They weren’t finished.
Easter was just the beginning.
after they execute your messiah.
We do know that most movements, of any sort,
are severely damaged or destroyed
when their leader is killed.
The Center for Combatting Terrorism at West Point
did a study to find out what happens to movements
when their leader is assassinated.
They found that “political assassinations seem to intensify prospects
of a state’s fragmentation and undermine its democratic nature.”
That means, in simple terms, a decline in political participation
and a disproportionate increase in the strength of the executive branch.”
The study goes on to say: “… The assassination of opposition leaders
has a limited impact on the nature of a political system,
but has the potential to lead to an increase
in overall unrest and domestic violence.”[1]
That’s certainly what the Roman oppressors expected
after they executed Jesus: unrest and violence.
But what about his followers?
What were they supposed to do?
It was over.
They went home.
But then he came back.
Not just once, but over and over.
And he made them understand that he wasn’t finished.
They weren’t finished.
Easter was just the beginning.
Imagine two weeks ago, after the Easter service,
that you walked out the door and went to brunch,
and there was Jesus, serving you in the buffet.
Imagine that he cooked your food and served you your plate
and then sat down across from you.
And when he looked at you, and you looked at him,
he asked you, “Do you love me?”
Of course I do, Jesus, but let’s not talk about who else knows that.
So there was that time I pretended I didn’t know you.
Well, three times I pretended I didn’t know you.
But that’s all in the past.
“I remember,” Jesus says. “I told you that was going to happen.
Feed my lambs.”
Coming up with an answer to that is difficult,
sitting here at Easter brunch.
You wonder exactly what he means by that.
Feed my lambs.
Not actual livestock, probably.
that you walked out the door and went to brunch,
and there was Jesus, serving you in the buffet.
Imagine that he cooked your food and served you your plate
and then sat down across from you.
And when he looked at you, and you looked at him,
he asked you, “Do you love me?”
Of course I do, Jesus, but let’s not talk about who else knows that.
So there was that time I pretended I didn’t know you.
Well, three times I pretended I didn’t know you.
But that’s all in the past.
“I remember,” Jesus says. “I told you that was going to happen.
Feed my lambs.”
Coming up with an answer to that is difficult,
sitting here at Easter brunch.
You wonder exactly what he means by that.
Feed my lambs.
Not actual livestock, probably.
Then Jesus asks a second time: Do you love me?
Yes, I love you, Jesus, but asking this again
makes you sound kind of needy.
I told you that I love you, and that I’d always love you.
We’ve established that you love me and I love you.
We even have songs about it – “Jesus Loves Me”
and “O How I Love Jesus.”
The songs aren’t exactly what I’m looking for, Jesus says.
“Tend my sheep.”
Just to be clear, Jesus, we aren’t talking about farm animals.
We’re talking about people, your flock,
you being the good shepherd and all.
I’m still singing those songs, but I hear you.
Feed my lambs.
Tend my sheep.
Gotcha.
But Jesus asks a third time: Do you love me?
Now it’s getting kind of hurtful, Jesus.
I’ve answered this question twice already.
You know everything there is to know about me.
You know I love you.
It’s because Jesus knows everything there is to know about you
that he keeps asking, and keeps saying it:
Feed my sheep.
Because that’s what Jesus does.
When we give up, he shows up.
When we think its all over, he’s just getting started.
Where we see only failure, he brings faith.
When we see death and disappointment,
he creates life and hope.
When our work seems to have come to nothing,
he guides us to an abundance of blessing.
When we are tired and weak and hungry,
he feeds us.
When we try to simply give lip service to his work,
he calls us to account.
Do you love me?
Feed my lambs.
Tend my sheep.
Feed my sheep.
The story didn’t end when Jesus went to the cross.
Our story began when he came out of the tomb.
Jesus calls us even now, not to fish or feeding lambs,
but to faithfulness.
Follow me, he says.
Feed my lambs, and follow me.
Yes, I love you, Jesus, but asking this again
makes you sound kind of needy.
I told you that I love you, and that I’d always love you.
We’ve established that you love me and I love you.
We even have songs about it – “Jesus Loves Me”
and “O How I Love Jesus.”
The songs aren’t exactly what I’m looking for, Jesus says.
“Tend my sheep.”
Just to be clear, Jesus, we aren’t talking about farm animals.
We’re talking about people, your flock,
you being the good shepherd and all.
I’m still singing those songs, but I hear you.
Feed my lambs.
Tend my sheep.
Gotcha.
But Jesus asks a third time: Do you love me?
Now it’s getting kind of hurtful, Jesus.
I’ve answered this question twice already.
You know everything there is to know about me.
You know I love you.
It’s because Jesus knows everything there is to know about you
that he keeps asking, and keeps saying it:
Feed my sheep.
Because that’s what Jesus does.
When we give up, he shows up.
When we think its all over, he’s just getting started.
Where we see only failure, he brings faith.
When we see death and disappointment,
he creates life and hope.
When our work seems to have come to nothing,
he guides us to an abundance of blessing.
When we are tired and weak and hungry,
he feeds us.
When we try to simply give lip service to his work,
he calls us to account.
Do you love me?
Feed my lambs.
Tend my sheep.
Feed my sheep.
The story didn’t end when Jesus went to the cross.
Our story began when he came out of the tomb.
Jesus calls us even now, not to fish or feeding lambs,
but to faithfulness.
Follow me, he says.
Feed my lambs, and follow me.
Amen.
[1] Perliger, Arlie. “The Causes and Impact of Political Assassinations.” JANUARY 2015, VOLUME 8, ISSUE 1 Combatting Terrorism Center at West Point Military Academy. https://ctc.usma.edu/
[1] Perliger, Arlie. “The Causes and Impact of Political Assassinations.” JANUARY 2015, VOLUME 8, ISSUE 1 Combatting Terrorism Center at West Point Military Academy. https://ctc.usma.edu/
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