Don’t you just get a wonderfully satisfied feeling when a story ends well? When the author (or storyteller) neatly ties up all the loose ends? When you can lay down a book or walk out of a dark theater into the bright light of day with a sense of closure -- the characters whose lives you became so invested in, the plot lines that seized your attention, everything nicely resolved, all tied up in a neat little package?
In the twentieth chapter of the gospel of John, the author provides just that kind of satisfying ending. The risen Lord Jesus stands among his disciples and gives them peace and the Holy Spirit. Jesus even appears a second time, this time when Thomas is there, so that Thomas, who really needed to see Jesus to believe he is risen, can truly believe. And then there are couple of wrap-up sentences clearly designed to bring John’s whole gospel to a tidy conclusion so that all of us can breathe a satisfied sigh and head on home as the screen fades to black and the lights come up.
But then -- what’s this? -- the lights are going back down, the screen is flickering back to life, the ushers are motioning us to keep our seats, and the story starts up again, in John 21:1-19.
John 21:1-19After 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.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. 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.” ... After this he said to him, “Follow me.”*****
The musical “Into the Woods” retells four classic fairy tales with a twist: it tells the stories of what happens to all these well-known characters after they lived “happily ever after.” And, as you might have guessed, the ever after they lived is actually not so happy after all. The musical is entertaining, but it does ruin that nice, satisfied feeling you get after seeing a story end well and hearing those magic words, “and they all lived happily ever after.”
John chapter 21 is certainly entertaining, but it ruins the “happily ever after” we felt at the end of chapter 20. As the curtain rises again, we find a group of the disciples by the Sea of Tiberias trying to figure out what to do now that all the emotion and excitement of Jesus’ trial, death, and resurrection has died down. The story they have been a part of for three years has finally come to a close and they are trying to get on with their lives. When we encounter them, they’re sitting around on the beach like a group of cranky teenagers convinced that there’s nothing to do in their boring hometown. Suddenly, Peter can’t take it any more. He jumps up. “I’m going fishing,” he announces, and inevitably, the rest follow along. If there’s nothing better to do, they figure, we might as well work. Hopefully they’d at least catch enough for a meal.
Sadly, though, their return to the job is more frustrating than satisfying. A whole night out on the water and not one fish to show for it. Then, as the sun begins to rise, they see a man on the beach who calls out to them, “No fish, huh?” The disciples exchange puzzled glances: who is this guy and why does he care whether we caught anything? “No,” they say. Then he speaks again. “Cast your net on the right side of the boat. That’s where the fish are!”
Again, puzzled glances. “Gee,” says Thomas, always the cynic, “why didn’t we think of that?” “Come on,” says Peter, “It’s worth a try.” They throw the empty net over the right side of the boat, and in an instant, it’s teeming with fish. They can’t even pull it up, it’s so full, but remarkably, the net does not break. The sheer abundance of the catch is overwhelming...and oddly familiar...and that’s when one of them realizes what’s just happened. He looks back at that man on the beach, “It’s the Lord!” he shouts.
And Peter -- impetuous, impulsive Peter -- leaps into the water and starts swims shore, desperate to once again meet the risen Lord face to face. When all the disciples arrive on the beach, hauling that straining net of fish behind them they discover that Jesus, always ready with nourishment of one kind or another, has once again prepared a meal for them. They hadn’t realized it before, but after their long night, they are famished, and here, in the place where they once saw Jesus feed five thousand people with just five loaves and two fishes, they haul in their boatload of fish and the seven of them gather around a charcoal fire and eat their fill. It is the most satisfying breakfast they have ever had.
Writing about the death of his mother after a long illness, Tom Long recalls how every day in hospice care, she would beckon one of the loved ones who kept vigil at her bedside and whisper the words, “I’m hungry.” She had a feeding tube and she was getting as much broth and pureed foods as her dying body could handle, but still she kept telling them, day after day: “I’m hungry.” The hospice staff assured the family that her body could not feel hunger pains, but it still upset them. One day, Tom entered the room and found her restless in her bed.
“What’s wrong,” he asked. “Are you hungry?”
“Very,” she whispered. Tom felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He tried to give her some soft food, but after a couple of bites, she shook her head. No more.
“Slowly it dawned on me,” he writes. “‘I’m hungry’ was her way of describing the totality of her circumstance. She was not asking for food; she was saying that everything was slipping away, her personal history was closing down, coming to an end. Her days of breath and food and light and family and the touch of love were ebbing, and she was hungry, hungry for more, hungry for the life being taken away from her...very hungry.” (1)
Peter was very hungry too...and for more than just breakfast. He was longing for a resolution to the one story John didn’t tie up tight in chapter 20, the story of another charcoal fire, this one in Jerusalem, the story of a time when rather than leaping in the water and running toward Jesus with abandon, Peter had slithered away from him, denying not once, not twice, but three times that he even knew him. Since then, when he saw the risen Lord, Peter had not been able to look him in the eye. Though his heart leapt to see Jesus again, it was weighed down heavily with guilt and sorrow.
Just as Jesus could see all the way from the shore that the disciples were having a bad night of fishing, Jesus sees right through Peter. He sees Peter’s guilt, sees his hunger for resolution, and so he offers him nourishment of another kind. He looks him in the eye and asks him not once, not twice, but three times, “Do you love me?” And each time, Peter holds his head high, meets Jesus’ gaze, and replies, “Yes, Lord, I love you.” And even with this abundance of grace, the net of Peter’s heart does not break. In these three questions and answers Peter is restored to relationship with Jesus, and to his place in the community of Jesus’ followers. It’s almost the perfect ending.
Almost. You see, Jesus doesn’t just offer Peter forgiveness and by doing so, restore him to the community of the disciples: Jesus also gives Peter work to do, not just any work, but the work of the Good Shepherd, the one who loves his sheep, who knows them by name, who lays down his life for them.
Maybe you’ve read one of the many articles lately detailing the “happiness research” that seems to be all the rage right now as we struggle to figure out exactly what it is that makes human beings happy. The research tends to overlap at one surprisingly simple point: whatever else contributes to happiness -- health, wealth, etc. -- the two absolutely essential components to happiness are these: a sense of belonging to a community and and the belief that what you do matters. These are the key elements of happiness: belonging and purpose. (2)
“Peter, do you love me?...Feed my lambs. Peter, do you love me?...Tend my sheep. Peter, do you love me?...Feed my sheep.” With these commands to Peter, Jesus not only offers him the keys to a life of happiness and fulfillment, he reveals that this story is not your usual story. This is not a great novel or a well-crafted play. It’s not even a great television series that enjoys critical acclaim for nine or ten seasons. This is God’s story, this is creation’s story, this is your story and my story and Peter’s story, and here’s what is truly amazing about it: it doesn’t end.
The Nuremberg Chronicle is an illustrated world history that was published in 1493, one of the earliest printed books and one of the first to combine text and illustrations. In spite of these remarkable achievements, the book describes a civilization with little vision or hope for the future. So sure were the publishers that the world was rapidly coming to an end that they left several pages blank at the end of the book, encouraging readers to record “the rest of the events until the end of the world.” (3)
With this second ending that actually isn’t an ending at all, the gospel of John encourages us to fill in the blanks of this story. Where does the risen Christ show us abundance when our best efforts have come up empty? When does Jesus offer us nourishment, satisfying the hunger we didn’t know we had? How does the risen Lord extend us forgiveness and then what satisfying work does Jesus give us to do? The answers we give are the stories we are called to tell, the ones that make this remarkable story go on.
Oh, I should tell you that the verses I read before weren’t actually the end of the book of John. That gospel ends with verse 25: “But there are also many other things that Jesus did; if every one of them were written down, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written.” No, I suppose it couldn’t...not then, not now. Amen.
Endnotes:
1. Thomas G. Long, “Easter -- The Extra Scenes?” Journal for Preachers, Vol. 23, No. 3, Easter 2010, p. 36.
2. David Lose, “Peter and the Pursuit of Happiness” at WorkingPreacher.org.
3. Edwin Friedman, A Failure of Nerve. Church Publishing Inc., 1999, 2007, p. 29.
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