May 4, 2025
By Kristin
Berkey-Abbott
Gospel: John 21:1-19
I was going to write a different sermon. I had it planned out in my head. It was going to be about the disciples not knowing what to do with all they had seen, so they go back to the life they had known before, their pre-Jesus life, their fishing life. I thought that the previous chapter of John was vague enough about which disciples had seen the risen Lord that maybe they don’t even know about the Resurrection yet.
And then I went to seminary class on Thursday night, my very last seminary class, where we studied the Resurrection narrative in the book of John, which includes this chapter. My seminary professor mentioned that this is the first time in the book of John that the disciples fish. Sure, they are still from Galilee, a fishing culture to be sure, but the depictions of the disciples as fisherman come from other Gospels.
I
knew that John had been written last of all the Gospels, so I asked if the
writer of John knew of those Gospels. My
professor said that scholars have a 50/50 split—50%of them think that the writer
did know, and 50 think not. And it’s
been this way since we’ve had the Gospel of John, unlike other Gospels, where
our thinking about them may have changed radically along the way.
And
when John mentions “the disciples,” the way that he does in the previous
passage of John, the one we heard last week when the resurrected Jesus appears
to the disciples in the locked room, the writer of John usually means all the
12 disciples, and probably more. In
today’s reading, it’s only 7 of them, and they’re named.
So,
back to today’s passage and the strange response to the resurrected Jesus which
happened in the previous chapter. Instead of focusing on why Peter decides to go
fishing, and I don’t really have the answer for that, let’s focus on the ways
this passage feels familiar. We know
that the Gospel of John was written last, and there’s never been a manuscript
of John without this last chapter—so the writer intended it to be there. We also know that several hundred years
later, when church fathers decided which books would become the Bible, they
chose only these 4 Gospels, and they decided to put John last. Modern readers and believers might be
frustrated at all the ways the Gospel writers create stories about Jesus that
don’t always agree with each other. The
early Church fathers chose these four Gospels because of how they work together
to give us a more complete picture, not because they are the four that are the
most accurate.
This
last chapter of John feels like a fitting conclusion to all 4 Gospels. There’s the fishing, which ties the book of
John to the earlier Gospels and connects us to the idea of the new mission of
these disciples, to go and fish for people.
They are fishing on the Sea of Tiberias, which is really the Sea of Galilee,
renamed when a Roman ruler wanted to feel important. The shadow of empire is long, even in this
post-resurrection world.
The
men have fished all night and caught nothing—another familiar element, another
tie to earlier Gospels. Jesus tells them
to try again, and now they have so many fish that they can’t haul the nets into
the boat—they have to drag it to shore behind the boat. In some ways, it’s a foreshadowing of what
Jesus says will happen to Peter when he’s older and will need to be led.
This
abundance of nets full of fish that will be used for food—that’s a reference
back to an earlier abundance, the feeding of the 5000 in the sixth chapter of
John, which also happened by the Sea of Tiberias. Over and over again, Jesus shows us the
contrast between God’s power and the power of earthly empires. An earthly ruler renames the Sea of Galilee
after himself and raises the taxes so high that most people can barely survive. And what does Tiberias do with the
money? Beautify the royal palace, of
course.
Jesus,
on the other hand, offers miraculous provision:
more fish and bread than we can eat, and basket after basket of left
overs. Jesus shows us who has the power
to provide, and it’s not the earthly empires that demand our allegiance.
It
is this abundance that enables the men to recognize Jesus, and even though they
are only 100 yards from shore, less than a tenth of a mile, Peter cannot wait—he
jumps in the water and swims ahead. Jesus
has cooked them breakfast
Jesus
has been cooking breakfast over a charcoal fire—the only other time we see a
charcoal fire in the book of John is when Peter betrays Jesus, saying not once
but three times that he doesn’t know Jesus, as the people try to warm
themselves beside a charcoal fire and determine if a traitor is among them.
Jesus
gives Peter another chance to answer questions—three times, Peter has a choice
to decide on his allegiance. In much
less scary circumstances, Peter has a chance to claim Jesus—and this time, he
does. It’s a powerful lesson for Peter,
and a powerful lesson for us. Here once
again, as with Thomas last week, Jesus meets a disciple where he is.
Notice
this final lesson in the book of John.
Jesus leaves the tomb and doesn’t look back. Still bearing the physical wounds of
betrayal, Jesus goes back to his friends.
He wants to share a meal, and that’s what he does. I imagine it’s what we’d like to do with all
the loved ones we have lost.
You
might be looking at that rather ominous part of the message, about being led
where we do not want to go. The
Resurrection message can be lost in the magic of the chance to have a meal
again. Post-resurrection life is not a
return to the old life, even if it does have some of the markers of the old
life: a meal of fish and bread, a
command to care for others similarly, an abundance that earthly powers cannot
match. It’s one of the central mysteries
of our faith: through Jesus, the powers
of death are defeated, but for much of our lives, it very much appears that
they are still in control, as we succumb to doubt and perhaps denial.
But
rest assured, by the Sea of Tiberias, and forward through human history, the
story of Jesus is one not of reversal of power, but of a redefinition of power. Jesus shows us what is important in the
breaking of the bread, the drinking of the wine, in all that those acts mean. From the beginning of his ministry to the last
meal on the beach, Jesus commands us to love God and love each other, and Jesus
shows us what that love looks like.
Jesus shows us a quality of mercy and models that mercy for us—we can
forgive each other the way that Jesus forgives Peter. Jesus shows us how to feed each other
physically and spiritually.
We
live in a world where Powers and Principalities don’t feed us, but instead try
to train us to fight over the scraps left over from imperial rulers who don’t
have our best interests at heart. Jesus
shows us that another world is possible, a world of abundance for all, not just
for the ones at the top. Let us show the
same enthusiasm as Peter, diving into the water, an all-in response to our
savior who waits on the beach, cooking us breakfast, offering forgiveness again
and again. Let us cast down our nets again, even if we’re sure that it’s a
pointless endeavor. Let us recognize the
abundance God offers, nets full to the point of breaking, breakfast waiting on
the shore, sustenance for us all.
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