Easter 3C 2025

Text: “17 He said to him the third time, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?” Peter was grieved 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.” (Jn 21:17).

Introduction

Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia! Easter is not just the celebration of an empty tomb. It is the celebration of what the risen Christ now does with His people.

After the resurrection, Peter and the other disciples did not leap into action. They went back to fishing. Back to what they knew. Back to their old nets. And still, Jesus returned to them. He did not discard them for their confusion. He did not replace them for their failure. He restored them.

He did not start over with a new group. He returned to the same Peter who denied Him. He returned to the same disciples who had scattered. And later, He even called Saul, the sworn enemy of the Church. He brought the same gift to each one: restoration. And He gave the same call to each one: follow Me.

The point, of course, is that Christ also deals with you the same way. You are restored and sent by the risen Lord.

I. The Church Is Made Up of the Restored

Consider Peter. When the disciples recognized it was the Lord standing on the shore, Peter did not hesitate. He threw himself into the sea and swam to Jesus.

It was not always this way. Peter first encountered the power of Jesus at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry. Peter discovered Jesus’ power in a very similar way: a miraculous catch of fish. That day, Jesus told them to try the deeper water and they pulled up so many fish that their boats were nearly sinking. Peter responded by falling at Jesus’ feet and pleading, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord” (Luke 5:8).

After that first experience, Peter was overwhelmed by his guilt and unworthiness. But now, Peter does not run away. He runs toward Jesus. He plunges into the water and makes for the shore — still as unworthy as ever, and perhaps more so after all his boasting had collapsed into denial and shame.

Something has changed. Perhaps it is the memory of the countless sinners he had seen Jesus welcome over the years — the lepers, the tax collectors, the outcasts. Perhaps the grace he had seen all of them receive has kindled in Peter a trembling, fragile hope that mercy might be waiting for him, too.

And what does Peter find when he arrives at the shore? Not a wall of judgment or a list of his failures. He finds a place prepared for him — and the Lord ready to restore him.

Jesus is there on the shore, waiting for Peter with a charcoal fire. Not too many days before, Peter had stood beside the same kind of fire in the courtyard of the high priest (John 18:18). At the charcoal fire in that courtyard, Peter had denied Jesus, warming himself even as fear cooled his faith.

But here, on the shore of Galilee, Jesus Himself prepares a fire — not to rekindle shame, but to rekindle love. Jesus invites Peter to draw near. He does not ignore Peter’s failure. He brings it to light — but not to accuse, not to condemn. He brings it to light in order to heal.

The charcoal fire had to remind Peter of that night. Three times Peter had denied his Lord. And, now, three times, Jesus invites him to confess his love. Jesus does not ignore Peter’s failure. He brings it to light. Not to humiliate him, but to restore him. Not to reopen the wound, but to bind it up. And to assure Peter that the grace of Christ fully covered his sin.

The smell of the coals was likely bound in Peter’s memory to the guilt and shame of his denial. That smell will now forever be bound to Jesus’ grace.

Or consider Saul. He breathed threats and murder against the disciples. He was determined to destroy the very people Christ had called. Yet, in an instant of blinding light and divine mercy, Christ struck him down on the road — and then lifted him up, restored him, and sent him.

Paul called himself the chief of sinners (1 Timothy 1:15) on account of the blood he had shed. He described himself as “the least of the apostles, unworthy to be called an apostle, because [he] persecuted the church of God” (1 Corinthians 15:9). And yet Christ restored him. Not because Paul was worthy. Not because he had made up for his sins. But because the mercy of Christ is greater than human sin. Because the blood of Christ is stronger than human guilt.

The blood Paul once shed could not drown out the blood Christ shed to redeem him.

The Church is not the gathering of the worthy. It is the gathering of the restored. It is not a showcase of human strength. It is a monument to divine mercy.

And so it is for you. Most of you have never been so trapped in your sin that you were not welcome in polite company. But you have heard the stories that Peter and the other apostles have recorded for you about who Jesus is.

When have known the fear that would deny Christ, the pride that would trust in yourself, the guilt that would hide from His gaze; when you have stood by the fires of this world, warming yourself while faith grew cold, do you hide yourself from Jesus or run to Him?

Either way, the risen Christ seeks you out. He does not leave you in your failures — nor does He simply overlook them. He brings them into the light, not to condemn you, but to heal you. He comes to you, speaks peace to you, and restores you by His mercy.

Your place in the Church is not secured by your perfection. It is secured by the mercy of Christ — the mercy He poured out on the cross. The places in your life that once felt bound to guilt and shame—those moments you would rather forget, those words you cannot take back, those choices you cannot undo—they have been crucified with Christ. They have been redeemed by His blood. The fire that once burned with sorrow is now kindled by mercy — not vague or general, but the mercy of the Crucified. And the wounds you have inflicted, which you thought would speak against you forever, have been silenced by the voice of the cross that cried out, “It is finished.”

Christ restores you.

II. Christ Restores and Sends His Servants

We also see, through Peter and Paul, that Jesus not only restores, He sends. He called Peter from his denial; He called Saul from his violence, and then He sent them. Through these servants, He builds up the body of Christ. And through that body, He brings His mercy to the world.

Jesus does not simply restore Peter to personal faith there on that beach. He restores Peter to public service. “Do you love me?... Feed my lambs. …Do you love me?... Tend my sheep. …Do you love me? …Feed my sheep” (John 21:15-17). He entrusts Peter — and all who would later serve as pastors — with the work of feeding Jesus’ flock, tending His lambs, proclaiming His forgiveness through Word and Sacrament. As Paul later wrote, “He gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the shepherds and teachers, to equip the saints for the work of ministry, for building up the body of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11–12).

The same is true for Saul. Ananias baptizes him, and Christ immediately sends him to proclaim Jesus as the Son of God. From persecutor to proclaimer — and all by the grace of Christ.

You heard what our Lord, Himself, said of Saul in the first reading: “He is a chosen instrument of Mine to carry My name before the Gentiles and kings and the children of Israel. For I will show him how much he must suffer for the sake of My name” (Acts 9:15–16).

That is precisely what Paul was sent to do. He was sent to proclaim not himself, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with himself as a servant for the sake of that Good News. Paul was sent to proclaim Christ crucified and risen: the cross that redeems a world that often seems irredeemable; the blood that speaks mercy into a world full of accusation and condemnation; the resurrection that brings life to a world marked by death.

Paul’s ministry was marked by joy—joy that abounded in poverty and in plenty, in hardship and in peace, because Christ was his strength (Philippians 4:11-13).

And, at the end, looking back over all of it—the hardships and the joys, the trials and the triumphs—Paul did not resent any of it. He embraced the calling. He was able to say: “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith” (2 Timothy 4:7).

Through him, just as through St. Peter, Christ built up His Church. Jesus gathered to Himself a Church of the Redeemed from all nations, tribes, peoples, and languages. Through them, Isaiah’s words were fulfilled: “And the [redeemed] of the LORD shall return and come to Zion with singing; everlasting joy shall be upon their heads; they shall obtain gladness and joy, and sorrow and sighing shall flee away” (Isaiah 51:11).

Reflection: On the Papacy and the Head of the Church

That is particularly timely reading, is it not? This past week, the world laid Pope Francis to rest. And in just a few days, the conclave will begin to choose his successor. Around the world, many hearts are filled with hope. Hope for a shepherd who will be compassionate. Hope for a leader who will bring renewal. Hope for someone who will speak clearly to a confused world.

But, even as we remember St. Peter and St. Paul, restored and sent by Christ, we also remember that the message is not about them.

As we witness the process of choosing a new pope unfold, we are reminded of something deeper: The Church does not stand or fall with any man. Its strength is not found in Rome, or Wittenberg, or Geneva. The Church’s one foundation is Jesus Christ, her Lord. He is the true Head of the Church. He is the Shepherd who never dies, the Overseer who never fails, the High Priest who never sins. He is the one who restores His people — and who sends pastors, evangelists, and teachers to care for them and proclaim His Word.

The office of the ministry is Christ’s gift to the Church. But the office exists to serve the people of God, not to replace them. It is not the pastors who are the Church. It is the restored. It is you.

And through the preaching of the Gospel, Christ sends not only pastors but all His people — to bear witness in their homes, their workplaces, their friendships and communities. He sends them not with the authority of men, but with the mercy of heaven.

So yes, we watch the choosing of leaders with interest. But the ultimate hope is never found in any conclave. Our hope is in the crucified and risen Christ — the Lamb who was slain, and who lives and reigns forever.

III. Christ Sends His Restored People to Restore

The power for this mission does not come from you. It comes from Christ — the One who restores.

Peter had denied his Lord. Saul had persecuted His Church. And yet, when Christ restored them, He did not stop there. He sent them. And through them, He brought restoration to others.

So it is with you. You are not sent because you are perfect. You are sent because you have been restored. Christ has brought you back from your guilt, your shame, and your failures. And now He sends you with that same restoring Word into the lives of others.

You are sent into a world that is fractured. A world that is weary. A world that warms itself beside fires that cannot give peace. And you are sent to bring something more: the mercy of Christ. The healing that comes not from ignoring sin but from bringing it to the cross.

You are sent to speak peace where there has been accusation. To bring light where there has been darkness. To extend forgiveness where there has been hurt. Not because you are strong, but because you know what it is to be restored.

And you do not go alone. The risen Christ goes before you. He breathes His Spirit into you. He places His Word upon your lips. He feeds you with His body and blood.

You are not sent out as salesmen. You are sent out as restored ones, bringing restoration. You are sent with the Gospel of the cross, the mercy of the Crucified, the life of the Risen — the Lamb who is worthy to unfold God’s plan because He was slain, and who now sends you to bear witness to that plan fulfilled.

Conclusion

Peter, the denier, was not cast aside, but restored and sent. Saul, the persecutor, was not disqualified, but restored and sent. The wounds you have inflicted, whose pain once cried out against you, have been silenced by the voice of the cross. You are restored — and Christ sends you.

You do not go alone. The risen Christ goes before you. He breathes His Spirit into you. He places His Word upon your lips. He tends you through His undershepherds. He feeds you with His body and blood.

So go. Share His mercy. Extend His peace. Speak the word of restoration. Restore as you have been restored.

Alleluia! Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of Jesus. Amen.