Calling all passengers! We have reached our final stop on this globetrotting gospel trek before heading home. Let’s break out those cameras one last time and dip our toes into the cool waters of Loch Ness. These shores whisper of mingled beauty and mystery, each amplifying the other in a glorious dance. John’s concluding chapter depicts the same two elements working together—beauty in the abundant mercy of Christ, and mystery in His veiled identity. Keep your eyes open; there’s no telling what you might see around here.
Scripture writing: I loved copying verses 4-8 from The Message:
When the sun came up, Jesus was standing on the beach, but they didn’t recognize Him. Jesus spoke to them: “Good morning! Did you catch anything for breakfast?” They answered, “No.” He said, “Throw the net off the right side of the boat and see what happens.” They did what He said. All of a sudden there were so many fish in it, they weren’t strong enough to pull it in. Then the disciple Jesus loved said to Peter, “It’s the Master!” When Simon Peter realized that it was the Master, he threw on some clothes, for he was stripped for work, and dove into the sea. The other disciples came in by boat for they weren’t far from land, a hundred yards or so, pulling along the net full of fish.
This scene is great fun to imagine. Besides Peter jumping overboard in a hilarious attempt to get to his Savior faster, the playful goodness of Jesus is on full display—smack dab in the middle of His disciples’ lack. Key in on the phrase They weren’t strong enough. When the Lord decides to heap grace on His friends, it’s like to trying to fit the ocean in a thimble; we won’t be able to hold it all.
Studying: Verse 15 in The Gospel Transformation Study Bible carries a note that
Jesus didn’t hurry the process of Peter’s restoration. The Savior asked three times for affirmation of the apostle’s love, reflecting Peter’s three denials during Christ’s passion. Gospel surgery is free, but not always easy. Grace produces redemptive pain, not punitive pain. But pain is still painful. Indeed, the gospel brings an end to all deadening worldly grief. But the gospel is the beginning of enlivening godly grief. The law condemns, the gospel convicts; the law creates self-centered tears, the gospel creates God-centered tears.
We have a heart surgeon skilled enough and loving enough to do what’s necessary to help us thrive. Trusting His hand makes the pain bearable in the shadow of our deepest failures. It’s mercy that pursues us and purges those toxins from our souls. When we wrongly equate grief with abandonment, we’re missing a hard but critical truth: sometimes grief is proof of the Lord’s presence. Peter was dealt with, but he was dealt with in relationship. There are no time-outs with Jesus—just come-closers.
Commentaries: Matthew Henry emphasizes verses 10-11, in which Jesus calls His stunned disciples to bring over some of the fish they’ve just caught.
He would have them taste the gifts of His miraculous bounty, that they might be witnesses both of His power and of His goodness. The benefits Christ bestows upon us are not to be buried and laid up, but to be used and laid out.
If you’ve never heard the term ‘scarcity mindset,’ it basically means there’s not enough to go around, so we should lead a meager and miserly existence. Hence the fancy china that never gets used, the bed that never holds a guest, the packed schedule that never includes rest. But Jesus empowers us to live with open hands and open hearts, placing full confidence in His ability to provide better than we ever could.
Right after Christ predicts Peter’s triumphant death as a martyr in verse 18, He issues a final command. D.A. Carson points out that
Jesus’ concluding words to Peter, Follow Me, may invite Peter for a private walk along the beach. But in the context of this book, they do more: they tie this step of discipleship to Jesus’ initial call, challenge Peter to consistent discipleship until the martyrdom he now faces comes due, and implicitly invite every waverer, every reader, to the same steadfast pursuit of the risen Lord.
Those two words weren’t meant only for the fisherman; I need them to greet me afresh with each sunrise, to saturate my frantic thoughts when stress runs high. But following Jesus is hopeless in my own strength. As His Spirit invades and cultivates the fruit of self-control from within, steadfast pursuit becomes a source of vitality rather than an energy vacuum.
Sermons: Both teachers make high-impact claims about what kind of life the Lord desires for us. Driscoll states,
The Christian life is a supernatural life, it’s an extraordinary life; it’s Christ living His life through you, not just you living your life for Him.
Contrary to the message that Jesus wants our very best, He’s really after our emptying. Once we’ve surrendered our expectations, dreams, strengths, hurdles, wounds, and a thousand other bits of identity we cling to so tightly, He has a clear conduit through which to pour His transformative love. And, of course, as C.S. Lewis says, “The more we let God take us over, the more truly ourselves we become.”
In Peter, Do You Love Me?, MacArthur maintains that
The Bible never calls for a life of legalism, a life of law, a life of dread, a life of fear. It always calls for us to love God.
Say it again for the people in the back. Love will go where legalism, law, dread, and fear cannot. It succeeds where the others fail, invigorates where the others drain, beckons where the others bludgeon. Our culture—both inside and outside the church—would look immensely different if the Bible were known as an invitation to love God instead of a doorway to white-knuckled goodness.
Journaling: Perhaps my favorite personal note came from verses 15-25:
I’m so grateful for how the Lord waits for us to grow enough to be safe in handling what we ask for. Peter had practically begged to follow Jesus the night of His arrest, but the Savior knew he wasn’t ready yet. Now, after some deep pain and restoration, Peter receives his longing: the call to follow Christ. This waiting period would benefit others, too—Jesus knew a broken and restored Peter could be a better shepherd for little lambs than the blustering strength of an untried leader. Even our failures are redeemed, transformed into gifts.
No decent parent says yes to every request on a child’s lips. Some yeses would be neither loving nor wise at the moment. But we can help shape who those children become so that one day the yes will be safe to give them. If this is how we function as fallen human beings, how much greater care does our King take of His beloved? Every yes, every no, and every wait we receive is for our good—both as individuals and as the body of Christ.
Meditation: Once again, the Holy Spirit was uncomfortably active in this time of pondering. Verse 21:15 says, “When they had finished breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?’ He said to Him, ‘Yes, Lord; You know that I love You.’ He said to him, ‘Feed My lambs.'” It struck me that
With a perpetually divided heart, my strategy in times of stress is always having a Plan B (like Peter reverting to his fishing boat). But Jesus asks me to lay that Plan B down at His feet, to be made whole. This is the cost of discipleship for me right now. Do I love Him enough to say yes?
I wanted to dig in here rather than giving a cursory affirmation and moving on. To be honest, my Plan B is infinitely more about security than about freedom. But even the very best Plan B could never offer my heart the robust protection and provision Jesus extends. When I haltingly place that safety net on the altar, my grip is free to take the strong hand of Christ.
Loch Ness fades into the distance as our bus rumbles home. With full hearts and renewed appreciation for the buckets of daily grace that await, we’re ready to get back to the joy of our everyday lives. Can we give our tour guide a round of applause? John has been an incredible voice on this journey through the ministry of Christ. Like any good trip, may our time away leave an indelible mark on our souls and change us for the best. Even though this particular expedition is over, the same Jesus who first invited John along with a “Come and see” summons us onward. The adventure continues.
*Following the study schedule to its conclusion, my binder has thickened up with doodles, prayers, and tons of background information on the text. This summary is just the condensed version, the highlights of each approach—you can find my full binder notes for John 21 here.
The Dwelling Place 
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