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. 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. ~John 21:1-3
I’m a big Harry Potter Fan. I read the books aloud to my children, complete with voices and accents, through book 3, after which they wanted to join me, and take turns reading the books aloud, complete with voices and accents. By Book 6, we were no longer reading aloud, but sharing the books as they were released, which meant, stealing them from one another’s bedside tables until we were all finished.
Spoiler alert: I’m about to talk about the end of the series. At the end, Harry and friends defeat the big bad, Voldemort, and destroy the magic wand that is too powerful for safe or ethical ownership by anyone. People have died in the final battle—people we, the readers, love—so it is a costly battle with evil. But it is a satisfying finish.
But then, there’s another chapter. In it, Harry and friends have aged by something like 15 years, and they are paired off-Ron married to Hermione, and Harry married to Ginny. They are all taking their children to Platform 9-3/4 at King’s Cross Station in London, to send their eldest children off to Hogwarts for their first year. It’s a bittersweet moment for the reader, because it describes a future we probably won’t get to experience. But it is truly lovely.
(This, of course, was all before the author of these books became a raging transphobe and made her life’s mission to harm and undermine the trans community.)
So, there’s an ending, and then another ending, really, an epilogue—kind of like the one we have in the Gospel according to John. We, too, have witnessed a costly battle with the evils of this world, which culminated in the victory of resurrection: God raising Jesus from the dead. If you will recall, last Sunday, following the story of Jesus’ first two resurrection encounters with the disciples, and then with Thomas, chapter 20 ended like this:
Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written so that you may continue to believe that Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and that through believing you may have life in his name.
~John 20:30-31
But then, hey, hello, this Sunday we’re in a chapter 21 which we, reasonably, might not have expected. But here it is. As in the books mentioned above, there is a bittersweetness to this encounter, and also, a glimpse of what lies ahead for them.
After these things, we are told, Jesus showed himself again to his disciples—his risen self. Here is how it happened: Peter decided to go fishing.
Let’s just think about that for a minute. Jesus is risen—Alleluia! But Peter is feeling the need, after the rollercoaster of Holy Week and Resurrection Sunday and beyond, to go back to something simple. Something normal. Something familiar. He tells his friends he’s going fishing. Six of them say, “We will come with you.”
This is the end of something, and it is the beginning of something. It’s possible the disciples have gone back to Galilee, to fish in familiar waters—that’s where Peter’s boat is, anyway. (The Sea of Tiberius, by the way, is the same as the Sea of Galilee.) They have gone back to the beginning, to the place where it all started. They have gotten into the boats, as was their custom, for an overnight fishing expedition.
This is the end of something. In other gospel stories, we find Jesus in the boat with the disciples on all kinds of occasions—whether to fish or to cross to the other side. But today, he is not in the boat with them. This is a vision of things to come. The risen Jesus will not stay with the disciples forever, but will return to God. This is the first glimpse of life without him. And fishing, after all, is a metaphor for sharing the gospel. We see the beginning of a vision of the future: fishing for people without Jesus’ physical presence. But, on this night, they have 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 his outer garment, for he had taken it off, 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. ~John 21:4-8
Now, Jesus is on the beach—the disciples can see him, they’re only about a football field away. They don’t recognize him by sight—another instance of the resurrection body of Jesus, which isn’t always immediately understood by his followers. But, as John’s gospel has stated before, the sheep know the voice of their beloved shepherd. When Jesus urges them to cast down their nets on the other side of the boat, they obey.
Immediately, there is a huge haul of fish! And immediately plus one second, the disciple whom Jesus loved declares, “It’s the Lord!” It’s our teacher, our rabbi, our Jesus. Peter, on hearing this, jumps right into the sea, to get to Jesus just as quickly as he can, leaving the other disciples to drag the enormous load behind them.
The disciples still know how to fish. That skill will probably come in handy in the ministry Jesus is pointing them to—his own ministry of teaching, healing, and feeding. And, even in his resurrected state which makes them, at times, unable to see Jesus, they can still hear his voice. This will be essential in the ministry that is about to be entrusted to them.
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. ~John 21:9-14
I’ve heard several theories on why “153” fish are specified in this passage, which I think are worth mentioning. The first theory is that 153 was the number of species of fish believed to be in the Sea of Galilee. That hasn’t held up to the scrutiny of paleoichthyologists, though. (I had to Google “Who would be the experts on ancient fish?”) The other theory is that 153 represented the number of nations in the known world, but that hasn’t held up, according to historians. (I didn’t have to Google that one.) But the theory that most have settled on now is the simplest one, which one of our faithful Bible study members suggested: It’s likely that people in the business of fishing counted the fish. It’s just a “fisherman’s habit.”[i]
You probably noticed the charcoal fire mentioned in this passage. Jesus is making the disciples breakfast on the beach! Feeding them, with fish and bread, just as he fed the multitudes, not once, not four times, but six times across the four gospels. These moments of feeding people, of creating abundance where the only abundant commodities were need and love, are foreshadowing moments of the Last Supper, but they are more than that. They are glimpses of heaven—the heavenly banquet, the place where abundance never ceases, both in love and in all the gifts of God.
The charcoal fire also contains a little burn, though. It spurs a memory, a bad one. We see how Simon Peter jumps from the boat and hurries through the waters to be with Jesus. The charcoal fire reminds us of a night when Peter was warming himself by a charcoal fire, with three separate people asking him whether he was with the man who was now a prisoner in chains, and when Simon’s answer was to run, metaphorically, away from Jesus. No, he answered each time. Not me.
But this meal, once again, is about abundance. Jesus urges Peter to bring some of the fish that have been caught—adding the disciples’ resources to Jesus’ resources. Again, a glimpse of the future ministry of these men, who for now, are silent as they eat. The last time they ate together, at the Last Supper, Jesus gave them bread and wine and told them how his body would be broken and given, just as he was breaking and giving the bread to them. And his body was broken, it seemed, irreparably.
But now, in this resurrection time, the bread and fish are not about Jesus’ broken body, but about his body now reassembled, brought together—these seven men, forming an outpost of the body of Christ, which will only grow after Jesus is no longer cooking for them. Jesus is giving them, again, a glimpse of their future, as the body of Christ welcomes more and more to be a part, to take part, to expand Jesus’ mission to the ends of the earth.
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.” ~John 21:15-19
Simon, son of John, do you love me? Jesus is giving Peter a gift, but Simon Peter does not initially understand how. Jesus is giving him the opportunity to undo what he has done, to proclaim his love and allegiance to Jesus, undoing his three denials on the night Jesus was betrayed. Jesus responds to each of Peter’s affirmations by saying some version of, “Feed my sheep; care for my people.” Jesus is the Good Shepherd, but he is encouraging Simon to step into this role, now that Jesus will be returning to the One from whom he came.
But accepting this responsibility, which Simon does, comes, again, at a price. Jesus describes to him how it will all end for him. Simon will give his life, as Jesus gave his. Simon’s love for Jesus will be affirmed in the way Jesus’ love for humanity was affirmed: his willingness to bear the fullness of human suffering, so that we would know we are never alone.
Just like the epilogue of a good book, the 21st chapter of John’s gospel gives us a vision of the future lives of Jesus’s disciples. Unlike the epilogue of a good book, this is a future we not only get to witness, but of which we are a part. This is the transition from the ministry of the Good Shepherd on this earth to the ministry which is entrusted, first, to his disciples, and now, to us. Jesus entrusts his followers with his ministry of teaching, and healing, and feeding his people—and we are those followers. We are the fisherfolk of today—inviting others to join us in prayer and praise, in worship and the work of the gospel.
We no longer look for Jesus among the dead, for he is alive, and has become the Lord of life. Instead, we look for him in the new faces in our midst; in our friends and clients at the Food Pantry, in the faces of those who join us for Trivia Night or Lunch Bunch. In the faces of those we see in the grocery store and at the gas station, in the faces of the students who cut across our parking lot every day as they walk to and from school. We no longer look for Jesus among the dead, for he has called us and commissioned us to look up, to look around us, and to see him and love him in every person we meet.
Thanks be to God. Amen.[ii]
[i] Jennifer Garcia Bashaw, Commentary on John 21:1-19, May 4, 2025, Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/third-sunday-of-easter-3/commentary-on-john-211-19-6.
[ii] Op. Cit. The format of this sermon was inspired by the Dr. Bashaw’s commentary.