In John 21:1-19, we witness Peter’s restoration by Jesus after a long night of confusion, failure, and silence. The disciples return to fishing, unsure of what comes next—until Jesus appears on the shore with a miracle and an invitation to breakfast. What unfolds is a powerful moment of grace, healing, and calling.
Then at daybreak, someone on the shore calls out:
“Children, you have no fish, have you?”
“No.”
“Cast your net to the right side of the boat.”
And suddenly—so many fish they can’t haul it in.
John recognizes the stranger first: “It is the Lord!” Peter—naked—throws on his clothes and jumps into the sea.
They find Jesus on shore, cooking breakfast. Bread. Fish.
He invites them: “Come and have breakfast.”
After the meal, Jesus turns to Peter:
“Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”
“Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”
“Feed my lambs.”
He asks again. And a third time. Peter, grieved, replies:
“Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you.”
And Jesus says, “Feed my sheep.”
Honest Questions from the Story
This passage is packed with mystery. What is with the 153 fish? Why don’t they recognize Jesus? And Peter is naked?
Honestly, I’m not sure those are the most important questions. When I slow down and picture the scene, different questions emerge:
- How were they feeling?
- Were they lost in doubt?
- Did they go back to fishing because they just didn’t know what else to do?
The Symbolism of the Shore
Jesus had called them before—right after a miraculous catch. And here he is again, doing the same thing. Almost like he’s reminding them:
“You are still fishers of men. That hasn’t changed. I’m still with you—even if I’m no longer in the boat.”
When God Doesn’t Turn Out Like You Expected
I think of my own disappointments with God. When things didn’t go as I believed they would. When God wasn’t who I thought He was.
It’s disorienting.
I feel deceived. I feel like God should be who I think He should be. And I’m mad at Him for not being “better” than who I found Him to be.
So what do I do?
I walk away. Or I’ll hide by going back to what I know. My way of fishing is better.
Peter’s Denial: “I Don’t Know the Man”
Maybe Peter wasn’t just lying when he denied Jesus. Maybe he was confused. Disillusioned.
“I don’t know the man.”
Not just denial—maybe a brutally honest confession.
Jesus didn’t fight back. Didn’t prove himself. Didn’t live up to the image Peter had of a powerful, conquering Messiah.
And maybe Peter thought,
“I gave up everything to follow him—and this is how it ends?”
What follows Peter’s denial is not judgment, but Peter’s restoration by Jesus—offering him not just forgiveness, but purpose.
Jesus Knew Peter Would Fail—and Loved Him Anyway
Jesus told Peter in advance: “You’ll deny me three times.”
Not to shame him. But maybe to say:
“Even though I know you’re going to betray me—I love you. I understand.”
That kind of grace makes guilt harder. But it also makes restoration possible.
The Journey Back: A Pattern of Redemption
This moment marks not just a turning point, but Peter’s restoration by Jesus, showing us a path from failure to faith.
- We retreat to the familiar after failure.
- Life feels empty—even when we return to what we know.
- Jesus appears—but we don’t recognize him.
- Something undeniable happens—a miracle, a moment of grace.
- We drop our shame and run to him.
- He restores us—not by condemning our failure, but by asking for our love.
- He calls us again—to care for others, to follow even when it’s hard.
Dying to Ourselves to Follow Jesus
Restoration isn’t just about forgiveness. It’s about surrender. Here, Jesus tells Peter that following him will take him where he doesn’t want to go.
That’s true for us too.
To follow Jesus is to let go of control, to die to self, and to love our neighbor, even when it’s costly.
Final Thought: Following, Still
Peter’s journey shows that failure isn’t final. When we’re at our lowest, Jesus still meets us on the shore, cooking breakfast, asking, “Do you love me?”
Even if we’ve walked away—he is still with us.
When we don’t recognize him—he calls us.
Though we doubt—he restores us.
And then, once again, he says:
“Follow me.”