Go Tell the Disciples - Peter Restored

Go Tell the Disciples & Peter; Why Peter? Mark 16:1-8 / John 21:15-19 When Mary Magdalene, Mary, the mother of James and Salome head to the tomb on Easter morning, they aren’t expecting to be uplifted. They are bringing spices to anoint the stone-cold, dead body of Jesus, a dismal and depressing task. As they walk in the early-morning light they are worrying about how they will manage to muscle the heavy stone away from the entrance to the tomb. What a surprise it is to see the stone already rolled away. They enter the tomb and spot a young man, dressed in white, sitting on the right side. Who is this guy? A guard? A gardener? A grave robber? Not knowing who he is, they feel alarmed, afraid. “Do not be afraid,” says the mystery man; “you are looking for Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He has been raised; He is not here.” There’s good news and there’s Great News. He is risen! But that’s not all. The image of a man continues, saying, “But go, tell His disciples and Peter that He is going ahead of you to Galilee, there you will see Him, just as He told you.” Jesus is going ahead of them, always ahead of them, and He will be waiting for them in the future. That’s a second piece of truly upbeat information. Jesus is alive. Jesus is ahead of us. That’s the Great Good News headline for the story of Easter. We can be grateful that the Bible reports the good news of the resurrection for us, because you won’t find this story in any of the other publications of the day. Look at the records of Jewish leaders and the reports of Roman generals and you won’t find any account of Jesus rising from the dead. As far as the official writings of the era are concerned, there is nothing particularly newsworthy about the first Easter morning. It’s a day like any other: criminals are being crucified, uprisings are being squelched, businessmen are bribing politicians, the poor are being ignored, and the iron fist of Rome is keeping everything under a kind of heavy-handed control. For the average resident of Jerusalem, the day of resurrection is the typical grind; breakfast is quickly swallowed, household chores are checked off, grueling manual labor is performed, injury and illness take their toll, and conflicts flare up with spouses, relatives and neighbors. It isn’t a big news day for anyone outside the small circle of disciples. Later on, however, in the book Antiquities of the Jews, written by the first-century Jewish historian Flavius Josephus around AD 93–94, he writes, “Now, there was about this time Jesus, a wise man, if it be lawful to call him a man, for he was a doer of wonderful works - a teacher of such men as receive the truth with pleasure. He drew over to him both many of the Jews, and many of the Gentiles.” 2 Anyway, back to the angelic figure; having extended words of consolation to the women, the young man immediately offers additional instructions to them, with two imperatives: “Go!” “Tell!”. He directs the women to report to Jesus’ disciples and Peter that “He is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see Him, just as He told you.” In response, the women appear very eager to follow his first imperative, for they go, fleeing from the tomb. However, they are less compelled to follow his second directive, since they said “nothing to anyone, for they were afraid.” Obviously, the women were not relieved of their initial alarm despite the young man’s best efforts. He says to these forever changed women, “go tell the disciples AND Peter.” Tell Peter. Don’t forget Peter. Jesus hadn’t forgotten Peter. Why was Peter singled out? Jesus had literally been to hell and back. He had tasted the pain of suffering and death. He sat in the deep isolation of the grave, and had not forgotten Peter. In fact, He needed to ensure that Peter would hear the message of hope He brings. He needed Peter to know that Peter could be restored, that Peter’s failure wasn’t unexpected to Jesus, that his denial wouldn’t destroy them, that his betrayal wouldn’t break them, and that his resurrection was for Peter too. Jesus shared a meal with Judas who would be His betrayer, and broke bread with Peter who would fail Him, and He washed the feet of each disciple who would quietly disappear into the night. And yet, He wasn’t disappointed by it. He expected it. He even willingly accepted it, He planned for it, so that the prophecy would be fulfilled that not one of His disciples would be lost. Jesus planned a way through it, so that even those who seemed lost, wouldn’t be. Jesus’ resurrection was for Peter too. The promise of forgiveness was for Peter too. A life of eternity was for Peter too. Transformation was for Peter too. Peter’s failure could not define or constrain what Jesus held for him, and so much more was in store for Peter still. Through his missteps, his grand gestures and bravado, his public falters and personal failure, Jesus saw Peter’s faithfulness. He saw the way Peter loved Him, his loyalty to Him in heart, even when his courage failed, and He brought life to Peter too. The women will eventually tell Peter and the disciples. Peter will be restored as a disciple, foreshadowed by his being singled out by the man in dazzling white. In John’s gospel we have the story of someone who walks away from it all. The job Peter walks away from is commercial fishing, again. Remarkably, this incident from John 21 is the second time the gospels 3 describe Peter walking away from that job. We started this whole Lenten season with Peter walking away from his fishing. Remember how this started? After a long day of unsuccessful fishing, Jesus invites Peter to try one more time. The net comes back bursting with fish, and Jesus says to Simon, “Do not be afraid; from now on you’ll be catching people.” Peter, along with his fishing buddies James and John, row to shore. Immediately, they leave everything and follow Jesus. Clearly, this resignation is about a lot more than just changing jobs. It’s more like swapping one life for another. From the highs of the triumphal entry to the lows of Calvary, to the glad and unexpected news of Easter morning, Peter and his companions have seen it all. First, they were scared to death, then thrilled with life; the unexpected new life in Christ that has no end. So his response is what? In light of all these “things” Peter and his friends have just experienced, Peter says, (his remark sounds like the most illogical comment of all time) Peter says, “I’m going fishing.” Really, Peter? Fishing? That same life you’ve already walked away from once before? Peter’s already been part of one great resignation. Now he’s drifted back to the fishing nets he once, in his zeal, abandoned. Jesus is standing along the shore, as Peter and his mates row back, discouraged. All they have to show for their long night on the sea are sore backs and heavy hearts. “Friends, you have no fish, have you?” It’s a question, but also a statement. He knows they’ve had a miserable, heart-rending night. He just wants to hear them say it. They admit it; then Jesus gives them a fishing tip. He tells them to cast their net on the right side of the boat - a crazy piece of advice. For some reason, these seasoned mariners take the stranger’s advice. Once they do, the net comes back so full, they fear it will split wide open. Then it dawns on the disciples who this Man is. After that comes that touching scene when Peter dives into the sea, so as to reach his Lord that much faster. They all gather on the beach for breakfast: fish grilled over charcoal, and bread. Their impromptu gathering is the exact opposite of another meal they’ve recently shared together, the Last Supper. You could call this meal “the First Breakfast” for it takes place at daybreak rather than night, in joy rather than solemnity, in hope rather than fear. After breakfast, Jesus turns to Simon and asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?” It’s not at all clear what Jesus means by the word “these.” There are three possible explanations. Maybe Jesus is asking Peter whether he loves Him more than these other brothers love Him; or He could be asking if Peter loves Him more than Peter loves the others; 4 or maybe Jesus is asking Peter whether he loves Him more than he loves these fishnets. We can’t say for sure what Jesus means by His question, but we do know how Peter responds. He leaves his boats and his nets behind, not for the first, but for the second time, and embarks on the life of an apostle. That task will occupy Peter the rest of his life, until he finally dies his martyr’s death in Rome. From that day forward, Peter begins to fulfill the challenge Jesus sets before him: “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” “Feed My lambs … Tend My sheep … Feed My sheep.” There are many who think these three questions are Jesus’ way of letting Peter atone for his sins. Remember, Peter denied Jesus not once, but three times. Jesus allows him three opportunities to cancel out his denial with a promise of faithfulness. A wise teacher has said, “The Lord doesn’t ask about your ability, only your availability; and, if you prove your dependability, the Lord will increase your capability.” Martin Luther puts it another way when he famously remarks: “I have held many things in my hands and have lost them all; but whatever I have placed in God's hands, that I still possess.” Peter once again, placed his life in Jesus’ hands. This time, though, the net Peter leaves behind is full. It has been filled by the sheer grace of God, present in Jesus Christ. For the first time in his life, Peter truly knows this. And for the first time in his life, he’s received a call so compelling he’ll never return to his fishing boat again. There’s an old Jewish story about a rabbi walking through a neighboring village late at night. He encounters another man walking alone, and together the two of them walk down the street in silence. Finally, the rabbi turns to his new companion and asks, “So, who do you work for?” “I work for the village,” the man answers. “I’m the night watchman.” They walk on some more, in silence. Then it’s the night watchman’s turn to ask this newcomer to his village a question. He asks the rabbi, “And who do you work for?” The rabbi answers: “I’m not always sure. But this I will tell you. Name your present salary, and I’ll double it. All you have to do, to earn that extra money, is one thing. You have to walk with me from time to time and ask me, ‘Who do you work for?’” Are you a little puzzled? Here’s the point. We could all use someone to ask us, from time to time, “Who do you work for?” We could all use someone to meet us on life’s beach and challenge us to declare, truthfully, if our nets are empty or full. Then, having made that self-inventory, may we have the courage to obey the command of the One who says, simply, “Follow Me.”