Discipleship is not a linear experience. It’s not an exponential curve of spiritual growth. It feels like it happens in fits and starts. We know by personal experience that while our discipleship is an attempt at consistency, it’s very often marked by moments. Some poor, some good, some significant. Some so significant that they become a turning point – or reference point – that impacts and is relevant from that moment forward, that shapes our discipleship, whether intellectually, emotionally, or perhaps even geographically. Those turning points exist for biblical characters. And this article is dedicated to one such turning point. We know it’s a turning point because we can see it resonate later. Importantly, God’s catalog of individual’s turning points translate over time, remaining relevant for our own discipleship.

It’s only John in chapter 21 who records the beach breakfast, and it takes up the closing chapter of his gospel. It surprises me at first that this is where John’s gospel concludes. At first glance, this majestic gospel full of grand ideas and interwoven with perhaps a more ethereal writing style almost seems to fizzle with a narration around a breakfast of bread and fish on a beach in Galilee. John leaves out the great commission to go into all the world and preach the gospel. He leaves out details on the return to Jerusalem. He leaves out even the ascension of our Lord into heaven. And he closes his book with not all the disciples together. They’re in Galilee – they’re not in Jerusalem. He closes with Jesus telling Peter to mind his own business and not John’s business. And that the world could not hold the books (should they be written) about Jesus’ actions and words. Of course, given the nature of John’s writing in chapters 1 – 20, it would be hard to accept that this is just a conclusion that fizzles out. There’s likely to be much more than just narration of a breakfast. And perhaps even more than the three questions about love to Peter, around a charcoal fire that neatly parallel three earlier denials by Peter around a charcoal fire.

It’s Peter that says, “I go a-fishing,” which I once saw as something innocent or endearing, genuine and positive, an upbeat decision of Peter and the disciples who follow. But I don’t think John actually writes about it in this way at all. And I don’t think that the Lord sees it in this way either. There are too many clues in the writing of John and in the actions of Jesus for us to see this fishing trip as a quaint and endearing return to something familiar while passing time.

As Peter and six other disciples decided to go fishing, John makes an observation – but equally a statement. He writes (John 21:3),

They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.

And as John who writes of Judas (John 13:30),

So, after receiving the morsel of bread, he immediately went out. And it was night.

John opens his gospel, of course with God as the light of men – the light that shines out of darkness – and a man who bears witness of the light. And then the word becomes flesh, and we see his splendor, his brightness, his glory. This imagery of light and dark pervades John’s gospel. In John 3, Nicodemus comes at night.They discuss how light has come into the world, and how people love darkness, but that Jesus is the light. In John 5, John the Baptist is a burning and shining lamp that people rejoiced in his light. In John 8 and John 9, Jesus is the light of the world. In John 11, if you’re walking at night, then the light is not in him. And John 12, if you believe in Jesus, you don’t abide in darkness. And relevantly Mark in his gospel quotes the Lord. He says,

I tell you, this very night, before the rooster crows twice, you will deny me three times.

And so a fishing trip conducted at night. This is more than mere narration. Fishing at night is a statement. But perhaps that would be a moot point if that was all that there was. But light-and-dark is not our only clue as to the tenor of John 21. What had the Lord said to the disciples as they mended their nets? (Mark 1:16)

Passing alongside the Sea of Galilee, he saw Simon and Andrew the brother of Simon casting a net into the sea, for they were fishermen. And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.”

Jesus’ earliest instruction was to leave the pursuit of catching fish. But in John 21 they’ve returned full circle fishing for fish, not men. On another occasion, fishing all night without a catch, Jesus instructs Peter to put out his net. After that tremendous haul, Peter falls to his knees. Jesus responds, “Do not be afraid. From now on you will be catching men.” Of course, Peter had heard Jesus’ parables. The kingdom of heaven (Matt 13) is like a net catching fish. A parable about present day action to catch men and women, not fish.

So in just the first three verses of John 21 is a compelling narrative and two spiritual ideas. Just seven disciples (not 11) some two to three weeks after the resurrection urgency in Jerusalem. Peter and the flock are active at night. Peter and the flock abandoned catching men and women, returned to fishing fish. And of course, they catch nothing. The next three verses, John 21:4-6, continue the narrative and spiritual ideas. John tells us why they didn’t know it was Jesus standing on the shore. Unlike on the road to Emmaus, this time it’s because the dawn was just breaking. Jesus is a silhouette on the shore unable to be distinguished.

And so, spiritually again, as the day breaks, the Son of the Morning arrives on the scene. But those who have been active in the night? They don’t recognize him. Our Lord’s timing is significant. It’s intentional. He arrives at the door. And of course it’s the arrival that makes a difference to the people who have been active at night. The dawning of Jesus to this scene turns the scene as fish become fruitful. They multiply and they fill.

Of course John is not simply narrating a bad fishing trip and a breakfast at the beach. He writes with intent, imagery, spiritual ideas, deliberate concepts, a continuation of his own themes. The scene is set as Jesus turns to address a fundamental question for Peter. And in doing so, Jesus addresses a fundamental question for all disciples ever since, and provides a remarkable resolution to all of Peter’s fears and doubts, which shapes his future discipleship.

So now to the familiar conversation of Jesus and Peter. Jesus has three questions, Peter has three responses, and the neat parallel to the three denials. To Peter, “Do you agape — do you love — me?” To Jesus – a phileo – “I have affection for you.”

I look in on that conversation, relating to Peter, having my own demons of guilt and shame, aware of my own inadequacy of discipleship, feeling that betrayal of Jesus is my more permanent and consistent state than agape. I relate. This is not a removed intellectual exercise. This is not detached words on a page. This is not like reading a novel or watching a scene on the screen. This is my reality. This is the experience of the disciple. It’s important to step away from focusing only on agape and phileo, because in part it’s a distraction from other things that are happening.

John writes carefully about why Peter becomes distraught (in verse 17). Peter was grieved because he said to him a third time. This ‘three-pete’ questioning is too much. That’s what causes him grief. And John adds an important piece of detail to Peter’s third reply. On the third occasion, Peter does not just say, “You know that I phileo you,” as he had said in the first two answers. His third answer is longer. Peter adds, “You know everything. I phileo you!”

Peter knew that Jesus knew everything. All of it. Thoroughly. You understand me. Everything. What I’m like. You know what I’m struggling with. You know what you’re asking. You know why it’s hard for me to answer and say agape. You know I’m struggling with guilt. My self-doubt relegates me to answer phileo. You know that I’m uncertain about my own discipleship. You know that I’ve stepped backwards. You know that I’m now Fisher of Fish. You know that I’m fishing at night. You know I’m struggling with confidence about my service to you. You know me on the inside. You know all my demons and self doubt. Stop asking me one, two and three times. You know, everything! And at the same time I have dear affection for you.

And so with that exchange, with that exposure, what would Jesus say to Peter now?

Jesus’s response is overwhelming – and it’s odd. At first glance perhaps it’s cruel. Jesus says,

“Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were young, you used to dress yourself and walk wherever you wanted, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will dress you and carry you where you do not want to go.” (This he said to show by what kind of death he was to glorify God.) And after saying this he said to him, “Follow me.”

This is odd! Jesus’ response to Peter being exposed and grieved and broken is to tell Peter that he was going to die by crucifixion. I mean, isn’t that just the most odd time and place to mention this? It’s almost cruel of the Lord. Jesus’ response to Peter’s raw expression is, “You're going to die by crucifixion. So follow me.”

Well, what I once thought was odd, or perhaps even cruel, upon some reflection I see as utterly majestic. These are the most perfectly chosen and insightful words for Peter.

Peter, in the midst of his darkest conversation of his life, in his outpouring of grief, in his moment of utter failure and doubt and regression, wallowing in shame, face to face with the son of God who he betrayed, completely doubting his discipleship, is told by Jesus, “You're going to make it, Peter. You will see this through. You’re a disciple. You do love me. You will continue to love me. In fact, your love will ultimately be proven as you suffer a death just like mine. With outstretched hands, crucified with me. You won’t deny me in your life. Know this: you will become me.”

Jesus provides the affirming words and the assurance to Peter. He is not going to be trapped in a perpetual cycle of bravado and disappointment and denial and guilt and shame, and then more bravado and then more failure and on and on and on. This will not be a perpetual cycle for him. He is assured that he will get to a stage in life, that the very thing he is most ashamed of – denial of Jesus – will be replaced by the very opposite – complete association. He’ll be crucified with him.

And then Jesus adds one further fabulous thought of encouragement. He says, “Follow me.” And follow is a fabulous word here in Greek. It’s unlike the English word, where we understand that one person would be following behind the other. The root idea is the union of a road where two roads meet and become one. So the sense of Jesus’ response to Peter is, “Peter, don’t worry. You will make it. Peter, join me. You will become me.” Those words – that insight – changes everything. It’s the promise of transformation. From being the denier of Jesus to becoming Jesus.

The proposition of this series is that we can be confident that an event is a significant turning point for a disciple when it is evident in subsequent events or commentary in their life. And for Peter, it is self-evident in the context of guilt and shame. Let’s just think for a moment about the impact of Peter’s denial, which we know was crushing for him, (Matt 26:75),

And Peter remembered the saying of Jesus, “Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.

Luke provides a little more horrifying detail, (Luke 22:61-62),

And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, “Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.” And he went out and wept bitterly.

So Peter’s very recent interaction was intimate betrayal of the son of God. His good master no less!

Let’s remind ourselves about guilt and shame and the slight nuances in each of their definitions. Guilt is a feeling of responsibility or remorse for some events or some crime or some wrong that you have done. Shame is the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable, improper, done by oneself or another. It’s more than just recognition or remorse for doing something. Shame comes in the painful feeling about the awareness of this thing about yourself. And both Matthew and Luke make it plain that Peter remembered. Yes, he’s guilty of three denials, but more than that, he remembers the painful feeling arising from the consciousness of something dishonorable he has done. And he went out and wept bitterly.

If you’re like me, then there are subjects or moments in your life that you really just don’t want to talk about. There are subjects that I simply do not feel I can speak to you about. Because of guilt and shame. I can’t delve much into this, but parenting is one such subject for me.

I will pause before I talk to anyone about parenting. Many parents of course will be acutely aware of their mistakes, but my guilt and shame prevents me from speaking to you about family life, or how to raise children, or being a spiritual family leader. I am responsible for mistakes in being a parent, and being conscious of that causes me pain. I feel guilt for mistakes. I feel shame – pain – for not having done better, or wasting opportunities, or being a poor example, maybe being careless with the hearts and minds of those God has trusted me with and who I love more than anything else in life, having strong words or hurtful statements, exaggerated responses. Just … damage. And so I won’t speak on those subjects.

Of course I do need to move beyond this feeling of shame and guilt. It is something that is – and can be – reconciled, of course, in the Lord Jesus Christ. But the point is that there is a relationship between our willingness to be bold and forward and to speak up about subjects, and our guilt and shame about those same subjects. And we know from a very rudimentary understanding of psychology that guilt and shame often result in people burying or hiding, avoiding, or even blocking out to the point of no recollection, the cause of that guilt and shame. Guilt and shame are often hidden emotions and thoughts.

And it is through this lens of guilt and shame that we can appreciate that the beach breakfast is a significant turning point in the life of Peter. It makes a difference for Peter. We see it very soon after in Acts 2, on the day of Pentecost. Peter gives a speech that is really a speech in two parts. Part one is almost administration or clarification. Peter makes it clear to the crowd that the disciples are not intoxicated but they’re able to speak in each man’s language. It is, in fact, a fulfillment of the prophecy in Joel 2, which he quotes. That’s part one of the speech.

Part two is the speech proper. It’s the thrust of the message. It’s a discourse on Jesus being the son of God, quoting firstly David in Psalm 16 and then in Psalm 110. So after part one – the administrative part – is dealt with, Peter arrives at the speech proper in verse 22. And it’s how he speaks about the crucifixion that I’m drawn to. Moved by.

He’s going to speak about perhaps the worst day of his life. The night of curse-denials of the son of God. Three denials, the rooster crowing, Jesus looking into his eyes, him racing out into the night and weeping bitterly. Just how is he going to handle that moment of guilt and shame when he’s speaking to hundreds or thousands gathered on that day? He says, (Acts 2:22-23),

“Men of Israel, hear these words: Jesus of Nazareth, a man attested to you by God with mighty works and wonders and signs that God did through him in your midst, as you yourselves know—this Jesus, delivered up according to the definite plan and foreknowledge of God, you crucified and killed by the hands of lawless men.”

No sense of lingering guilt. No avoiding the moment of shame. It’s the opposite! In fact, the suggestion is that they crucified the Lord Jesus. And this is not a one-off. The speech closes with the very same idea. Verse 36,

“Let all the house of Israel therefore know for certain that God has made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom you crucified.”

And so the speech proper is book-ended by the subject of the crucifixion. It’s a reversal of the situation, a completely different perspective on the circumstances. Peter does not avoid his denial of Jesus and the crucifixion. Peter’s perspective now is that if any of the crowd deny Jesus – the risen Jesus – then it is they who are responsible for his crucifixion. To deny Jesus is to crucify Jesus. That’s his message. Those are outrageous words from the denier of Jesus. But he is free of guilt. He is free of shame. The beach breakfast has played significantly into this being resolved for him. Now he can speak freely and boldly about a crucifixion that changes everything for him and for every disciple since. Including you. As Peter says to the crowd, (Acts 2:39),

“For the promise is for you and for your children and for all who are far off, everyone whom the Lord our God calls to himself.”

So Peter becomes a study in discipleship. Your discipleship. Despite your own equivalent of denying Jesus, despite guilt, despite shame, it’s resolved in Jesus.

John’s gospel does not fizzle out. It ends with a crescendo that echoes over time. Peter’s turning point is a gift to all disciples as it translates over time and circumstance. It is the gift of the Lord Jesus Christ. It is ever relevant. The words on the beach in Galilee are there for you too. Brother, sister, you can make it! Become Jesus.