Station of the Resurrection #4: Peter
John 21:1-14
“Just as day was breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; yet the disciples did not know that it was Jesus. Jesus said to them, “Children, do you have any fish?” They answered him, “No.” He said to them, “Cast the net on 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 of the quantity of fish. That disciple whom Jesus loved therefore said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his outer garment, for he was stripped for work, and threw himself into the sea. The other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net full of fish, for they were not far from the land, but about a hundred yards off.
When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire in place, with fish laid out on it, and bread … Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish.”
Peter is hard not to like. He puts his foot in his mouth constantly, his emotions swing drastically, and he talks big but can’t back it up. Not that these are admirable qualities in themselves, but they present Peter as a real person, just as human as any of us. By showing the ordinary humanity of this future leader of the church, the gospel narratives ring with authenticity. But his is not the only humanity that tolls through the Gospels.
The disciples are reeling after the drama of the cross and resurrection, and Peter needs to clear his head. He says, “I am going fishing.” A trade he knows, a boat he is comfortable in, a sea that he grew up on. After catching nothing all night, a man on the beach yells out unsolicited advice, “Try the other side of the boat!” When they do, they haul in an absurd amount of fish. Peter thinks, “Wait a minute, I’ve seen this before…” And indeed, it was with this same miracle that Jesus first called his disciples (see Luke 5).
The first time this miracle happened Peter’s reaction was quite different. He fell down at Jesus’ feet and said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” This second time is different. Even though Peter has just committed perhaps the greatest sin of his lifetime – denying Jesus – Peter does not hesitate to approach Jesus. This time around there is no doubt in Peter’s mind that Jesus will love a sinner like him. “It is the Lord!” John cries out to him. And without a moment’s hesitation, Peter throws himself off the boat in Forrest Gump-like fashion to go and meet his risen Friend. No longer does he care for the fish or his friends or his boat. In his joy he forgets it all.
So what is it about this Man on the beach that turns Peter into such a giddy child? We are shown when they arrive at the beach. Here is the Lord of Creation, who commands even the fish of the sea, who has just recently won the most cosmic battle of history - sitting in the sand, stoking a charcoal fire, frying up a few fish and warming a loaf of bread. “Come and have breakfast,” he says. There is something staggering in the humility of Jesus, something almost ridiculous in his nonchalance. At this rate it wouldn’t be surprising to learn that Jesus has also gone into the market, bargained with a shop owner for a bag of charcoal, and spent the last few hours trying to catch a few fish on a worm and bobber. No one says a word after they haul in the fish. They sit around the fire, gazing at their divine Friend who is serving them a homemade breakfast.
No wonder Peter loves him! In the Incarnation, God has become every bit as human as Peter, though without sin. God is no longer just an invisible, transcendent being in the sky, but a being so human that he can clean a fish, stoke a fire, and relax on the beach. The scene reminds us that the resurrection has changed none of that. Jesus has not resurrected and suddenly lost his humble humanity. He is still every bit as “God-with-us” as he was in the stable. His new authority did not, in this sense, go to his head.
And still today he relates to us the same way. Though almighty, he is approachable; though holy, he loves sinners; though exalted, he associates with losers; though just, he justifies the ungodly. Like Peter after his denial of Christ, we are no doubt called to repentance. But we must remember that repentance is not a shameful return to a short-tempered, exasperated God, but to a God whose mercies are new every morning. Every time the sun rises, even the morning after we’ve denied him, what awaits us is something much more akin to a seaside, sunrise meal with a Friend.
