We’re in this series on eyewitness news, eyewitness accounts of the resurrected Jesus. We’re looking at Peter today, Simon Peter, who was seen by Jesus and sent by Jesus, and we’re gonna see how Jesus demonstrates divine second chances like none other. I wanna start by, uh, relating to you a story from baseball. You know, baseball’s an interesting sport. You know, there’s no timer or anything. You don’t know quite how long the games are gonna go, but it’s such a storied sport. There are stories across decades of each of the different players. I want to take you back to 1970. There was a rookie. With a Pittsburgh Pirates named Jim Morse, and he’s out early in the season, and here’s this rookie coming out. The bat bases are loaded. Game is on the line, and he’s a little nervous, but he’s ready to go after this, the first pitch comes by Whiffs. He swings so hard, his helmet flies off, puts it back on, recomposes himself, he’s ready. Second pitch swings and misses so badly that he fell down on one knee. Now he is ready. Third strike thir or third pitch. It comes. It’s a cold strike inning over three men stranded. And you know what a devastating event for Jim. In fact, the next morning the Pittsburgh papers labeled him The strikeout kid. Yeah, well he didn’t have to live with that too long. It was just two weeks later and everyone surprised the manager. Of the Pirates put ’em back on the lineup card. It was the same team in the same park. And when it’s time for Jim to come up to bat, guess what? Bases are loaded once again. So this time, and it’s actually the same pitch a couple weeks later, that first pitch comes crack over the fence. Grand Slam. And what a remarkable comeback that was. The reporters, uh, allegedly mobbed the managers of saying, how did you ever risk the embarrassment of that, of Jim Morris once again? To which the old coach just kind of Riley smiled and said, well, everyone deserves a second chance, especially someone who knows what failure tastes like. Now, truth be told. You and I, I betcha we know what failure tastes like. I know I do. We’ve swung and missed at marriage vows, parenting promises, discipleship commitments, and perhaps some of us walked in here today wondering if God didn’t include us on his lineup card and that ache that can come from failure. It brings us today in our Bible text in John chapter 21 to a Quiet Shoreline in Northern Israel, late Galilee, where the risen Jesus meets a devastated disciple, still living with his great failure. Enter Simon Peter of Galilee, whose threefold denial of Jesus. It may be the most public strikeout. In the New Testament, and yet, as we’re gonna see in our texts around a little charcoal fire on that quiet shoreline, the risen Jesus shows up and shows us what divine second chances look like. Before we look at the text in John 21, 15 to 19, lemme just set the context from the verses preceding our text. It’s Easter season. Jesus has risen. You know, we’ve looked at Easter appearances already. Jesus has appeared twice to his disciples, showing them his scars, even breathing a, a blessing of peace upon them. Sends them and says, meet me up in Galilee. So Peter and his six friends, they’re back up north, but they don’t see Jesus yet. And so what do they do? Well, they did what they did before Jesus ever said to them, follow me. They were fishermen. So they probably hold out their boats. Don’t know what they’d done with them, with the nets, but they had them and they’re out on the lake. I think maybe hoping muscle memory could drown out.

Certainly for Simon, the heartache. That he carried. ’cause you see for Simon, just that is for all of us Shame’s mantra when you failed, it’s the same across generations. Go back to what you think you’re good at before you blew it. So that’s what they’re doing out on the lake fishing at night. But the waters didn’t cooperate. John tells us that night they caught nothing. And isn’t that how self-repair usually goes? We, we double down on our old strengths only to discover that our own nets come up empty. That our best efforts to recycle the failure that we’re trying to outrun ends up with nothing. So for Simon and the others, just after dawn breaks, there’s this lone figure. Out on the shoreline and he calls out children, haven’t you? Any fish? That’s a remarkable recording. Sounds almost a little cruel, doesn’t it? Until we learn who’s talking. So the disciples, they throw the nets out. Okay, one more time. But this time, the SAG with 153 fish writhing reminders that grace never shows up empty handed. And John, I think maybe whispers to, to Peter, it’s the Lord and Peter. He does something stunning rather than hiding as I think he might’ve felt, he ends up cannon balling into the waters toward Jesus and the splash sounds that he makes on on that lake. It’s really the soundtrack of a heart that still aches and yet is drawn magnetically toward mercy. This is a seismic moment for Simon Peter because what happens next around a, a crackling charcoal fire on the shore, it’s a conversation that not only restores a broken disciple, but it commissions him to feed Christ’s sheep for you see, Jesus meets Peter exactly where shame had left him, and Jesus does so not to condemn. But to call. So on the screen we’re actually gonna watch and hear the words of the Bible being read and acted out. There’s a movie called The Life of Jesus, and it’s the Gospel of John verbatim from the Bible itself, acted out. And so we’re gonna watch this and listen to this scene as our text has read to us from John 21 verses 15 to 19.

Let’s lean into this and listen. After they had eaten, Jesus said to Simon Peter, Simon, son of child, do you love me more than these others do. Yes, Lord. You know that I love you. Take care of my lambs a second time. Jesus said to him, Simon, son of John, do you love me? Yes, Lord. You know that I. Take care of my sheep a third time. Jesus said, Simon, son of John, do you love me? Peter became sad. Because Jesus asked him a third time, do you love me? And so he said to him, Lord, you know everything. You know that I love you. Take care of me. I’m telling you the truth. When you were young, you used to get ready and go anywhere you wanted to, but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will tie you up and take you where you don’t. When you go in saying this, Jesus was indicating the way in which Peter would die and bring glory to God, then Jesus. Him. Follow me. Follow me. I think we should join our hearts together in prayer as we continue.

Lord Jesus, what a epic encounter you had with Simon Peter, A Holy Spirit common encounter with us. Each of us today, you know where each of us are at, you know where each of us are at with you and what’s going on in our lives. And I ask Holy Spirit, that you would come and speak to each of our hearts, the very words of Jesus, that we are known, that we are seen by you and loved and called. I Ask this in Jesus’ precious name and for his sake. Amen. Dear friends, grace to you and peace from God, our Father and our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen. There’s something about a name isn’t there and I want to talk out with the first point that Jesus sees us with a gaze that names our hearts, our names. When we hear our names. I don’t know how many names you have, but I have three and I can still remember my dad back on the farm calling out Todd Gregory Matheson, and that wasn’t typically a good thing. First, middle, and last name, and it kind of just made me freeze in my tracks because names they locate us, don’t they? Todd Gregory Matheson. It kind of cuts through the noise and it just landed on me. And in that instant I was both kind of exposed, but strangely anchored. And I think that’s the feel of our text here in John 21 after breakfast on the beach. Jesus turns toward his disciple. This disciple who had face planted royally in the high priest courtyard just weeks earlier, and he calls him by name, Simon, son of John. Now notice he’s not calling him Peter the Rock. This time it’s just the fisherman’s birth name, Simon son of John. And I think he does so because grace begins by locating us, honestly, right where our sandals are still dusted with yesterday’s denials. For Peter and for us, for Simon, and for you and me. And then comes this question from Jesus to Simon. Not about failure, but rather affection. Do you love me more than these? You know, there’s a, a Greek nuance in the words that John writes in this gospel. Jesus starts with the word agapao, self-giving or sacrificial love. And all Peter can reply with his philo, affectionate, brotherly love twice. The Lord asks for Agapao twice. Simon can muster only Philo. And the third time Jesus descends and uses Peter’s word, and the point I think is that grace, divine grace bends low so that it might lift up. And here’s why this matters. The Apostle Paul later captures this miracle in one line, and it’s one that Fred read for us just earlier here. Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come. The old is gone. The new is here. Gathered around that charcoal fire. Jesus is looking at an already trembling Simon. But through resurrection tinted lenses now and where Simon might still see failure, Jesus sees a future shepherd and now friend, listen for you and for me When Jesus locks eyes with you. He does. So not to rehearse a film reel of your worst moments. Rather he sees the person yes, that he died for, that he rose again for to give you a second chance and a new life. And while your mess may feel like front page news yet to you, to him, it’s, but yesterday’s news already folded into his finished work. On the cross and out of that empty tomb in Christ Jesus, you are fully known, fully named, and fully loved. So what does this have to do with your life now, today, this Mother’s Day, everything, because the next time shame whispers your given name. Or remember that Jesus calls you by name and remember who it is that’s calling you. The risen Jesus names you not to rub salt in old wounds, but to invite you into new creation, life, and living. This means that in Christ, you can honest answer Lee. Answer honestly. How did I say that? Answer honestly. You know, bring him your real heart. You don’t have to try to polish up some fake resume and then receive his gaze.

Let it fall on you and let his love permeate you so that it’s not your performance, but it’s his narrative that defines your life. And then third walk as the new you. Step into each day knowing that in Christ, you are already a part of his new creation and a divine story he’s writing with your life. Now, this day when Jesus asks you, do you love me, he’s not fishing for summon impressive pledge or promise. He’s rather offering you a seat around that fire, a warm breakfast full of his grace, and a future that smells not of regret. But of redemption, and that’s the gaze that names your heart and sets you free to live. Fully loved in Christ. Jesus sees us with a gaze that names our heart, but second, there’s a divine love that restores around a charcoal fire. I don’t know about you, but I love, I love the smell of those charcoal fires. It, it’s an aroma. It brings back memories. I mean, picture this, it’s dusk in your backyard. The grill, the coals are finally hot and ready. You lift up the lid and that unmistakable smell WAFs up that charcoal grill in one sniff. For me, I’m transported back to being eight years old and my dad pulls a lid off that grill and he’s flipping burgers and I’m with the family and fireflies are fluttering around and it’s wonderful. Smells carry memories, don’t they? And they can transport us fast to time. Gone by John in his gospel records two charcoal fires. The first happened a few weeks earlier. It crackles in the high priest’s courtyard. Recorded in John 18, and Peter cold and afraid, tries to warm his hands while his lips just grow colder and colder. Still three times. I don’t know him. I don’t know him. I don’t know him. And then the rooster crows and Jesus sees him across that courtyard. There’s a second fire. John records us in our text. It’s around the Lake of Galilee, breakfast sizzles, and then Jesus invites that same Peter, who is for the moment crushed by Jesus’ own voice, but Jesus calls him by name to join him. Same smell, same glow of the fire, different outcome. Because the risen Jesus intentionally recreates, I think that scene of Peter’s greatest collapse, not to shame him, but to rewrite it, to recreate that memory now in God’s grace. So there’s three questions from Jesus to this one heart of Simon Simon, son of John. Do you love me? Do you love me? Do you love me? And Jesus asks not to lecture. He’s not there to demand loyalty. Jesus asks, not so that some Monday morning film room review may go on about Peter’s failure. These three gentle questions, yes, while they mirror three gut wrenching denials are asked because love not scolding.
That’s the engine of discipleship, and when Peter answers. Yes, Lord. You know, Jesus immediately commissioned Simon, feed my lambs, take care of my sheep, feed my sheep. Three questions, redefining three failures, and with this comes three commissions because I think, here’s the point, forgiveness and calling. They’re inseparable. They’re intertwined. Every, forgive you from Jesus. Is followed by nee. I need you. I am sending you in Christ. Grace clears the record and divine love rather than hands you the next assignment In Christ Jesus, the same Savior who’s, who sees us in our shame, but through it speaks directly to our hearts, restoring us for service.

In Christ, you can feel that you are so valuable to God that he would forgive your worst moment and still trust you with his mission in Christ. You’re invited to sit around that charcoal fire today, now in your life in prayer, listening for the Lord’s voice and letting the Holy Spirit then bring to mind what. May still kind of smell like failure to you, but then hear Jesus say to your heart, do you love me? And then listen for that particular sheep that he lays on your heart. Someone to, to love and care for a neighbor, a lost child or hurting friend or text that Fred read earlier says, all this is from God who reconciled us to himself through Christ. And gave us the ministry of reconciliation. So, you know, what does this story of Simon Peter have to do with your life? Well, when you and I, when we leave the beach, like Peter maybe still smelling of smoke, we now carry with us an aroma, an aroma of grace, and we can bring it into boardrooms and classrooms and living rooms and hospital rooms. Because I think for each and every one of us, somewhere in your story there’s that courtyard words you wish you could unsay a choice you’d rewrite and redo if you could, but Jesus though, he knows he doesn’t leave. You stuck there. Rather, he lights a new fire, looks you in the eyes and he says, let’s have breakfast together. I still want you. And you know, if the risen Christ can turn Simon’s worst nightmare into a launching pad of his calling, then your shame. It’s not the the period at the end of your sentence. It’s only a comma in God’s Next paragraph, A brief footnote in the story of your walk of faith that’s being written as you follow Jesus into his mission. There’s a divine love that restores around a, a charcoal fire. But third, I want you to realize that Jesus gives a cross shaped call. Have you ever noticed how the scent of a campfire, it can sneak into your hair and clothing and it doesn’t leave? It remains on you. And I think Peter carried that smell also. And get this though, after the risen Lord meets Simon Peter’s failure with forgiveness, and then he commissions him. Jesus. Adds a sobering promise. When you are old, someone else will lead you where you do not want to go. Hmm. Have you noticed that scripture before? You see, just as for Jesus Christ himself, so for Simon Peter and also for us, Jesus followers, today, Jesus call is cross shaped. There’s a cross shaped call. Well, grace is never content to leave us hanging out on the shoreline. It’s intended to actually propel us into Christ’s mission, but it’s also involving costly obedience. That same warmth that healed Peter now branded him for a mission and ultimately for martyrdom. The Apostle Paul kind of frames that beach side exchange in kind of diplomatic language. We are therefore Christ ambassadors as though God we’re making his appeal through us.

You know, ambassadors, they don’t craft their own agenda or their own words. They bear someone else’s authority and their message. So Peter walks away kind of spelling like smoke an embodied reminder that second chances are real, but then carry Peter carries that same aroma then with him and the rest of his life, down streets, into homes, into prison cells. And ultimately church history tells us to a cross of his own. Now think about it for us. What could happen when a church smells like grace addicts, prodigals, skepticals, divorcees, religious burnouts, they can catch a whiff and it’s a whiff that whispers in their hearts. Could mercy reach out to me also, and the answer’s yes.
And in Christ through our own testimonies, we can see shame stories flipped into redemption stories themselves at kitchen tables and homes across the East Valley. This past week, one of our council members told me, uh, a conversation they had and they, and they really nailed this whole point. They were asked why Victory Lutheran is moving ahead with Victory forward. You know, our, uh, hope and prayer to extend God’s kingdom further here in the East Valley, dreaming, planning, giving, stretching. And so when this council member was asked, well, why are we doing this? They just simply shrugged and said, straightforward. Well, because Jesus gave us a mission to be and make disciples. No flow charts, no budget lines, no strategies, just words. Of our commander in chief, the same words of Jesus’ Original commission to Simon Peter, where he says, come follow me. Jesus said, and I will send you out to fish for people. Can you get that verse up on the screen please? At once they left their nets and followed him. Now remember those nets, they paid bills, they fed families, and yet Peter and Andrew, they dropped everything. Have you ever considered that to join a savior whose, whose payment plan was simply, well, fellas, trust me. And while remaining on the boat, it would’ve been far easier for those disciples, far safer. God’s love called and pulled them into unfamiliar water. You see, God’s grace doesn’t just rescue us. It recruits us. Reconciled people become reconciler. For you now become Christ’s invitation. His appeal is made through you. You might be the only scripture, the only Bible that someone else reads, and if you stay tethered to that shoreline of comfort, well then how can others hear?

So how might we respond in faith to God’s calling us here today? Well, first, rejoice. God is a God of second chances, abounding to you in grace and mercy. Second, pray. Pray God use me. Offer God your boat, your schedule, your time, your voice. Invest courageously. Give where it stings. Serve where it stretches. And finally share your story of reconciliation. Somebody needs to hear how Christ bridged that gap for you. And if the thought of building or expanding or giving feels risky picture, the first disciples waiting ashore, calloused, hands open, hearts pounding, futures uncertain. And yet they were willing to trade in their nets and in exchange, they received nations. They left security and were given significance and every life that they reeled in as fishers of people. Will one day stand beside them when the king calls the roll up yonder, how about for you? Hear the call of Jesus to you this day. Come follow me and I will send you out. Join me in prayer. Lord Jesus, thank you for stepping into our failures and covering them with your grace. Draw us ever nearer to you in faith. Fill us with the Holy Spirit so that we may love you deeply and gladly serve the people you place in front of us. And may your mercy remain on and use our lives to guide others home to you. Jesus. I ask this in your precious name. Amen.