Failure is Not Final

After Easter

Failure is not final when Jesus is on the shore.

Jesus will not waste your worst moment.

The fire of your failure can become the fire of your restoration.

Jesus does not just forgive you. He restores you.

There are some things in life that bring back memories before anybody says a word. Sometimes it is a song. Sometimes it is a place. Sometimes it is a smell. You catch the smell of smoke from a grill, a fire pit, or a brush pile burning, and suddenly you are not just standing where you are now. You are somewhere else. You are back in a moment. Back in a season. Back in a conversation. Back in a memory you thought you had buried. A smell can take you back in an instant. And I think that matters when we come to John 21. Because Peter is standing near a fire.

And I have to believe that before Jesus ever asked him a question, Peter already felt something in his chest. Because Peter had been near a fire before. On the night Jesus was arrested, Peter stood by another fire. On that night, when Jesus was being beaten and mocked and handed over, Peter was warming his hands and denying his Lord. Three times. Three times he had the chance to stand up for Jesus. Three times he said, “I don’t know Him.” Three times Peter failed when it mattered most. And let’s be honest this morning: that is not just Peter’s story. That is ours too. Maybe not in exactly the same way. But every one of us knows what it is like to look back on a moment and think, “I should have said something.” “I should have done something.” “I should have been different than I was.”

There are people in this room who know what it is like to fail God. There are people in this room who know what it is like to fail somebody they love. There are people in this room who know what it is like to carry regret so long that it starts to feel like part of your identity. And when that happens, most of us do what Peter did. We go back fishing. That is what Peter says earlier in the chapter: “I’m going fishing.” Now on the surface, that sounds simple enough. Just a man going back to work. Just a man doing what he knows. But I think it is deeper than that. Peter is not just going to catch fish. Peter is going backward. He is going back to what is familiar. Back to what feels safe. Back to a life where maybe he does not have to deal with what happened.

And that is what a lot of us do too. When we are ashamed, we go back. When we are disappointed in ourselves, we go back. When we do not know what to do next, we go back. We go back to old habits. Old attitudes. Old fears. Old walls. Old distances. Sometimes we even come to church while going back fishing in our hearts. We sing the songs, shake the hands, sit in the pew, and still keep Jesus at arm’s length because deep down we are afraid of what He might say if we ever got honest. But church, here is the good news of this text: Failure is not final when Jesus is on the shore.

Peter and the others fish all night and catch nothing. Nothing. They go back to what they knew before Jesus, and it does not satisfy them. It does not fill them. It does not produce what they hoped. And then at daybreak, there is Jesus on the shore. I love that picture. Jesus is not pacing in anger. He is not standing there with folded arms. He is not waiting to humiliate Peter. He is not saying, “Well, look who came crawling back.” No. Jesus is on the shore, already at work, already preparing what they need before they even ask. That sounds like grace to me. Some of you this morning are tired. Tired of carrying guilt. Tired of pretending. Tired of feeling spiritually empty. Tired of going through the motions. Tired of smiling in public while hurting in private. And maybe you feel like you have let Jesus down too badly. Maybe you think the best you can do now is just keep your head down, stay quiet, and try not to make a bigger mess.

But the gospel says otherwise. Jesus comes to Peter. Jesus meets Peter. Jesus provides for Peter. Jesus sits Peter down. That is grace. Peter jumps in the water and comes to shore, and what does he find? Not rejection. Not a lecture. Not coldness. He finds breakfast. He finds Jesus making space for him. He finds Jesus saying, in effect, “Sit down, Peter. We are not done.” And somebody here today needs to hear that. You may think your best days are behind you. You may think your failure has defined you. You may think your regrets have the final word. But Jesus is still saying, “Sit down. I’m not done with you.”

Then comes the conversation. After breakfast, Jesus looks at Peter and asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me?” That is not a random question. Jesus does not start with, “Why did you do it?” He does not start with, “Explain yourself.” He does not start with, “Promise Me you’ll never fail again.” He starts with love. “Do you love Me?” That question cuts deeper than accusation ever could.

Because Jesus is not just trying to get Peter to relive his failure. Jesus is reaching for Peter’s heart. He is getting underneath the collapse, underneath the denial, underneath the shame, to the deepest issue of all. “Peter, after everything that happened, where is your heart toward Me now?” Peter says, “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” And Jesus replies, “Feed My lambs.”

Then again. “Do you love Me?” “Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.” “Tend My sheep.” And then a third time. By now Peter is hurting. The Bible says he was grieved. Of course he was. Because with every question, Jesus is pressing on the wound. But hear me: Jesus is not pressing on the wound to punish Peter. He is pressing on it to heal him. That is what our Lord does. He loves us too much to leave us pretending. He loves us too much to let us bury what needs to be brought into the light. He loves us too much to leave us defined by the worst thing we ever did.

Jesus does not just forgive you. He restores you. That is the heart of this passage. He does not say, “Peter, I guess you can hang around the edges.” He does not say, “Peter, you can be in the crowd, but you have lost your place.” He does not say, “Peter, I will tolerate you.” No. Jesus gives Peter purpose. “Feed My sheep.” In other words, “Peter, I still have work for you. I still have a place for you. I still mean to use your life.” Now that hits hard, because some of us have quietly assumed the opposite. We assume that because we failed, we are finished. Because we got it wrong, we are disqualified. Because we have wounds, regrets, history, baggage, conflict, shame, or a past we wish we could erase, that somehow Jesus has moved on from us.

But look at Peter. The man who denied Jesus became the man who preached Jesus. The man who crumbled became the man who stood. The man who failed in public became the man restored by grace. Why? Because Jesus will not waste your worst moment. In fact, sometimes the place where you broke is the very place where Jesus begins building something deeper in you. Peter will never again speak as if he is stronger than everyone else. Peter will never again boast in himself the same way. Peter has been broken, but now he can be remade. He has failed, but now he can lead with humility. He has fallen, but now he knows what grace feels like.

And church, Trinity needs that kind of disciple. Not polished people pretending they have it all together. Not religious people who know how to hide. But restored people. Honest people. Healed people. People who know what it is to be met by Jesus and changed by grace. There are sheep to feed. There are hurting people to love. There are weary people to strengthen. There are broken hearts to carry. There are souls all around us who need more than a church service. They need the presence of Christ through His people.

And Jesus is still calling ordinary, imperfect, once-broken people to do that work. Then Jesus tells Peter that the road ahead will not be easy. Restoration does not mean comfort. Grace does not mean there is no cost. Peter will follow Jesus down a hard road. But the final word Jesus speaks is the same as it was at the beginning: “Follow Me.” That is the call.

Not “impress Me.” Not “redeem yourself.” Not “clean up your past.” Just, “Follow Me.” And maybe that is exactly what somebody in this room needs this morning. You do not need to rewrite your past before you can come to Jesus. You do not need to pretend you are stronger than you are. You do not need to hide what He already knows. You just need to answer the question. Do you love Me? Not are you perfect. Not have you gotten everything right. Not have you fixed every broken piece. Do you love Me? Because if the answer is yes, then His word to you is still the same: Follow Me.

And here is the part I do not want you to miss. I told you at the beginning that some smells take you back. That matters here because John is very careful with his words. In John’s Gospel, that charcoal fire is mentioned only twice. Once in the courtyard, where Peter denied Jesus. And once here on the shore, where Jesus restores him.

That is not an accident. Jesus took Peter back to the place that smelled like his greatest failure. Not to shame him. To heal him. The fire that once reminded Peter of his denial became the fire where Jesus restored his calling. And that may be the word for Trinity today. Some of you are still living by the fire of failure. Still smelling the smoke of what happened. Still hearing the accusations. Still carrying the weight. But Jesus can turn the fire of your failure into the fire of your restoration.

That memory does not have to own you anymore. That regret does not have to name you anymore. That wound does not get the last word anymore. Because when Jesus gets involved, even the place that once smelled like shame can start to smell like grace. So do not go back fishing. Come to the shore. Come to the fire. Come to the Savior who still wants you at His table. Come to the One who does not just forgive you. He restores you.

Failure is not final when Jesus is on the shore. Jesus will not waste your worst moment. The fire of your failure can become the fire of your restoration. And if you love Him, then hear Him again today: Follow Me.