Imagine, if you will, the scene of today’s gospel – the shore of the Sea of Tiberius, or more familiarly the Sea of Galilee.  It is an inland sea, just like the Dead Sea, whereas, unlike the latter, it contains fresh rather than saltwater. At about 13 miles in length and 8 miles wide, its waters could be treacherous and prone to sudden changes of mood.  Here it was that Jesus had ‘recruited’ a considerable number of the Apostles something over two years previously, and so it was quite natural that they should lose no time in reverting to their roots after the tumultuous and bewildering events of Jesus’s death and resurrection. They couldn’t even begin fully to understand what had taken place in Jerusalem, and doubtless thought it was the beginning of the end when all too soon it would dawn upon them that this was merely the end of the beginning! Anyway, now they were back home, it didn’t take Peter, ever the leader, very long at all to announce firmly to his six companions that he was going fishing. “Are you coming, chaps?”

Fishing, as anyone who has indulged in it will attest, is a chancybusiness at the best of times, and this wasn’t one of them. We’re told that they had ‘toiled all the night and caught nothing’, and so must have been returning to shore in a very despondent frame of mind. In the dim light of dawn they were suddenly aware of a man standing on the shore, calling out and asking how they’d fared. Still suspecting nothing, they were told to cast their nets on the other side of the boat and then it was that the miracle happened and they had so many fish they could scarcely manage the catch. 

It was John who then recognised the risen Lord – not so easy as one might have imagined. Jesus’ body was the resurrected one, not the resuscitated one. His appearance was different from when they had known him before; for example, he might well not have cast a shadow. When John pointed out Jesus’ identity, Peter, wanting to show Jesus his eagerness, became impatient with the slow-moving boat. He couldn’t wait to tie his loose shirt so it wouldn’t float when he jumped into water. For a Jew of that time, to offer a greeting was, after all, a religious act, and for it a man must be properly clothed. Though the other disciples came quickly in the boat, it was Peter who assumed the lead. He was beginning to grow into becoming a “rock”.

On shore, the fire, the fish, and the bread were another surprise.  

Because of the heavenly glory that was now Christ’s, his presence gave a solemnity to the scene.  Nevertheless, the Apostles took the time to abide by their routine of counting their fish, the usual purpose of which was to divide the catch equitably.  Many Scripture scholars have used the number of fish and the unbroken net to symbolise that the Church can hold a great number of people of all kinds without the loss of her unity.

To show the universality of the Church was, in fact, one of John’s purposes in writing this chapter of his Gospel. The other was to show – again – the reality of Jesus’ resurrection – to insist that the Risen Christ was not a hallucination or a spirit, but a real person. A hallucination or a spirit wasn’t likely to kindle a fire on the seashore, or to cook a meal and share in eating it. The words John used for the meal – Jesus took the bread and gave it to them – clearly and unmistakably allude to the Eucharist!

After the meal, the scene changed abruptly to Jesus’ dialogue with Peter. He began by asking Peter three times whether he, that is, Peter, loved him. Not only is that a central question of every Christian’s life; Jesus’ followers are to be led by love, and Jesus’ presence is recognisable only by love. Peter was full of sadness and confusion. Was Jesus alluding to his past sin of denying him three times and asking, “Do you love me now, at last?” Or was Jesus asking, “Do you love me more than you love the nets, the boat, and a catch of fish? Or was he asking, “Do you love me more than your fellow disciples do?”

Perhaps we recognise something of ourselves in the story of the Apostle Peter. In many ways, he is just like us. He was so simple, and yet so complex! He was aware that he had often left much to be desired.  When, for example, Jesus had given him permission to walk on water, and then Peter saw the first difficulty coming his way in the form of a wave, his faith started to evaporate and he began to sink. And there were other incidents – when he had stupidly chided Jesus at the Lord’s prediction of his passion, when he had selfishly wanted to stay forever at Jesus’ transfiguration when he had childishly wanted to know how many times to forgive injuries, when at the Last Supper he didn’t want Jesus to wash his feet, when in the Garden of Gethsemane he had slept, and then impulsively cut off the ear of the high priest’s servant.  Then, of course, he had a glorious side too, which was the reason for his ability to grow in fidelity and loyalty.  

Peter’s potential was the reason for Jesus’ committing to him the leadership of the fledgling Church.

Even today, though, Peter seems insensitive. When he met Jesus – the first encounter after having denied him so comprehensively– he acted as if nothing significant had happened. As if nothing required comment or apology, he quickly ate his breakfast. But next to this charcoal fire on which fish had been cooked, perhaps he was thinking of that other fire – that charcoal fire at which he warmed himself during Jesus’ trial – warmed himself while he denied Jesus!

But Peter would no longer dare to say anything that would put him above the rest – no bold claims, no rash promises. He couldn’t even answer with the same word for “love” that Jesus used.  

Jesus’word – ‘agapas’ in the Greek of John’s Gospel – involved sacrifice, and Peter remembered that, after his previous grandiose promise to lay down his life for Jesus, he had denied Jesus three times. So, unsure of whether he was capable of that highest kind of love, he answered by affirming, again in the Gospel’s original Greek, ‘philo’, a love of feeling, of sentiment, of affection, and of attachment. Of those he was sure!

Upon Peter’s reply, the consequences of true love followed – responsibility and sacrifice. Jesus indicated Peter’s responsibility by directing him to “feed my lambs” and “feed my sheep.” He was making Peter his great shepherd.  Then there was sacrifice. In Peter’s case, Jesus predicted that Peter’s love would involve the greatest sacrifice of all – the laying down of his own life.

Then Jesus said to Peter, “Follow me.” Jesus’ work was finished, and Peter could truly “follow” the Lord fully. Peter was not capable, like John, of lofty writings that soared like an eagle or, like Paul able to travel to the ends of the known world for Christ – but his determination to follow the Lord and to lead the Apostles enabled him to be the first head of the Church. ‘Petrus’, the Latin form of the name ‘Peter’, just conveniently happens to mean ‘rock’, and it was indeed upon this ‘rock’ that Jesus intended to build his Church!

And Peter went on from greatness to greatness. His growth, like most of ours, was not a perceptible, continuous, eternal march upward, but like a graph, with all its ‘ups’ and ‘downs’.  

Today’s First Reading – the well-known account of the conversion of Saul on the road to Damascus represents an absolute change of mind-set, a complete 180 degree U-turn, with the newly evangelisedPaul working as zealously for the Lord as the former Saul had striven to persecute the newly-formed Christians to the point of extermination, which has its parallels in Peter’s denial and subsequent redemption. 

For us, as for Peter, recognition of Jesus often comes slowly, sometimes in and through contact with others. We have all, like Peter and the other Apostles, responded in love. That often involves self-sacrifice, and perhaps suffering. Our modern opponents have discovered that killing people makes memorable martyrs of them, so the tactic of our day is condescending ridicule– the deception that the Church looks silly, unrealistic, decadent, and completely unworthy of the belief of a reasonable person.

We should accept that suffering – not in despair and self-pity, but “full of joy”.  One benefit of suffering is to make sure we don’t get too comfortable and fall asleep and miss our life. Jesus’ resurrection shows that through suffering and death one can achieve triumph. 

But we don’t need to wait until death for a taste of the kingdom. We get to taste and see the kingdom of God right now in this Eucharist! Here we are again doing what we love to do with the One who loves to feed us! In this Eucharist we know the presence of the Risen One, feeding us with his body and blood, and asking us to feed and tend each other – that is our challenge as Christians! Amen.