Night Fishing and Breakfast on the Beach: 3rd Sunday of Easter, 2013


John’s Gospel is dense with symbolism and layers of meaning. There are certain things that are always meaningful. Numbers - especially things that happen in threes and sevens. Light - and darkness, time of day, sunrise, noon and sunset. Repetition - the recurrence of seemingly minor details that link things together. Meals - especially as related to the Eucharist. A constant reference to Genesis and Creation - John’s first words, after all are “In the Beginning.” All of this and more is brought into focus in this passage. It’s my favorite chapter in the Bible. I wish I could preach on this passage for the next three weeks, or more.

The Lord has died and has Risen, and has already appeared to his disciples after the Resurrection. But those are exceptional moments. Most of the time he isn’t there, at least not in physical appearance. So what happens next? 

Always one to leap into action, Peter stands up and announces he’s going fishing, and the others follow him. Remember this is not a hobby for Peter, but his trade. Some have said that Peter is being stupid, that he’s missed the point of the Resurrection and is going back to his old life as though nothing had happened. That’s one theory. If you want my opinion, it’s a lousy theory. Another interpretation is that Peter is setting up a symbolic action: Jesus called them to be “fishers of men,” and the act of fishing is a sign of their mission after his Resurrection. That may be. I’ll let the professors argue about this as theologians; I prefer to relate to it as a fisherman. I imagine what Peter had been through, what they’d all been through, and if ever there were a time to spend some hours on the water, this was it.


It’s a special kind of fishing, night fishing. I hope you’ve been night fishing so you can imagine it right now! In the dark, the smells and sounds are more vivid, the motion more noticeable. Imagine the conversation they had through that long night, and the time of quiet thought. But in the Gospel of John, darkness is a symbol of separation from Christ, and Jesus’ disciples spend this time away from the Light and bearing no fruit. They catch nothing. If you’ve ever worked really hard at something, for a long time, and had nothing to show for it, this is your boat. John doesn’t have to spell it out for us. They fish all night: you know they must have tried everything as the minutes passed slowly into hours. None of it worked.

In the East, a faint glow precedes the dawn, and soon the first ray of light plays across the water the sun peeks over the tree line. There is a man standing there on the shore, and he calls out to them. They do not recognize him. To translate very loosely:

“Catching anything?”
“Skunked.”
“Try the starboard.”

Fishermen are always ready for a tip. They throw the net one more time.

Notice some of the symbolism right here in the scene already.  The water is motion, flux, chaos, uncertainty.  The Apostles, with Peter in charge, are navigating upon it in a boat.  That boat is the Church.  From ancient times, the Church has been called the “Bark” of Peter - “bark” here being an archaic term for a boat, like when you get on a boat and call it “embarking.” They navigate through the waves and darkness. But the Lord has died and is risen, and he stands in breaking dawn. He stands on the solid shore. He calls to the Church. And notice this, too: the Apostles have not yet discerned who is guiding them, but they still follow and bear fruit. Christ is guiding his Church even when the Church does not fully discern his form. They do what he says. They throw the net one more time.

153 fish.  There are some pretty interesting theories about that. One of them is that at the time John wrote, there were 153 known species of fish. Which would make this a symbol of universal mission. These fishers of men will go out to every nation.

Whatever the number means, it’s so many that the net almost breaks. When their work comes under Jesus, it bears as much fruit as possible without breaking. Jesus makes them as fruitful as their equipment, their situation, can possibly allow. And John is the first to get it. The miraculous catch, the sudden overabundance, the man whose appearance is the dawning day... he gets it and shouts out, "It's the Lord!"  John is the disciple who most loves Jesus, loves him most purely, so it makes sense that love is the first to recognize the Lord.

But he's not the first to go.  John has barely closed his mouth when, splash!  Peter is off.  Peter doesn't even bother with the sail or tiller, he doesn't even hesitate to leave his boat behind. Splash! He's in the water, swimming. It's the Lord!  But there's one detail to which Peter does strangely attend. He put on more clothing before swimming. It's such a weird thing to show up in the story, that it seems like it must have some significance. Remember that John's Gospel is constantly referring to Genesis and the Creation: with that in mind, does anything ring a bell? When else in the Bible did someone quickly put on some clothes before meeting God? 

It was Adam and Eve, the first time they met God after they broke his commandment. In his sin, Adam was ashamed before God. Peter feels much the same way. The last time we saw him, he was denying Jesus three times.  Now he's overjoyed to see the Lord, too eager to wait for the boat to turn around!  But he's deeply, deeply aware of his sin. I'm sure he felt bad about it before, really bad.  But looking at Jesus, he feels it even more. Maybe you can remember a time you hurt someone, and the way it felt the first time you had to look that person in the eye.

But Jesus isn't waiting with condemnation.  He's waiting with breakfast!  When they all get to shore, Jesus does what he typically does.  He gathers them around a meal.  It's loaves and fishes, interestingly enough.  And after breakfast, then he deals with Peter.  

They are standing near a charcoal fire. John specifies that. It’s one of two times in the whole Bible that a charcoal fire is mentioned. The other one was the high priest’s courtyard during Jesus’ trial on Holy Thursday. At that fire, Peter was asked the same question three times, and he denied Jesus. At this fire, Peter will be asked the same question three times, and he will pledge his faithfulness.

"Do you love me?"  "Peter, do you love me?"  "Do you love me?"  Peter denied him three times, now he gets three chances to repent.  But it hurts him.  What can he say?  He failed.  He keeps saying, "yes Lord, I love you," but what good are words in comparison with his actions?  He's exasperated.  "You know I love you."  But there's nothing he can say to make it right. You know that feeling, when you've really hurt somebody, somebody that you love, somebody that you should never, ever bring pain.  And nothing you can say seems to be good enough, nothing you can say can undo your mistake. That's what Peter's feeling now, I think.

But it's okay. Jesus gives him the threefold opportunity to refute his threefold denial.  And then Peter tastes mercy, infinite mercy. The kind of mercy that wants to cook you breakfast after you’ve totally betrayed someone. In addition to forgiveness, Peter gets a mission. "Tend my lambs."  And then there's this: "Peter, when you were young, you tied your own belt. But when you are older, someone else will bind you and lead you where you don't want to go." The mission Peter is given comes with suffering and trial, and it involves going where he doesn't want to go. 

Does Peter follow up his words with action? We just heard the answer in our first reading from Acts, which was a sermon from Peter’s own mouth. This same man, whose courage failed at the Lord's hour of suffering, listen to the power of his speech now!  Nothing can stop him from proclaiming Jesus Christ. From Galilee, to Jerusalem, to Antioch, and finally to Rome - where Peter will finally end up - Rome, where he will one day stretch out his arms and spill his blood for Jesus' name. That will be his final answer to the question, "Peter, do you love me?"

We've all denied the Lord in one way or another.  Like Peter, we'll be led to repentance, to turn denial into love.  We’ll be given a mission.  We'll be taken where we don't want to go, away from our egos, away from our petty sins, into the great adventure of being a disciple of the Son of God.  We're not in charge of our lives anymore.  We belong to Christ.  He stands now where he always stands, waiting on the shore.  Blessing our lives.  Calling us to conversion.  Waiting with breakfast on the beach at sunrise, with the only question that matters: “Do you love me?”

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