Easter Sunday 2024 - Reset: The Restoration of a Failed Disciple

RESET:

THE RESTORATION OF A FAILED DISCIPLE

 

A couple of weeks ago, I was facing a major fork in the road of my life, a huge decision. Once the crisis had passed and the intense emotions connected with it had settled down, I found myself sitting on the couch alone with our dachshund thinking, “I need a reset.” 

            What is a spiritual reset? A reset is needed when we stray from the purpose and person of Christ. We all get distracted by decisions, disappointments, and faulty discernment about life. If we stray too far from the foundation of our faith, Jesus, we may end up sinning. Sometimes it’s just losing our way in discipleship. 

            A reset is simply coming back to Jesus, back to square one where life with him all began. The beautiful thing is, Jesus wants to restore us back to intimacy and harmony with himself. He wants to create in us a new heart (again), to heal us, that we would walk in peace with him after having wandered off (yet again). 

            Isn’t that incredible? Jesus wants to restore us back to that beautiful place where we first knew the joy of knowing him, fellowshipping with him, working with him in the power and authority he gives his followers. When we walk in this restoration, we are walking in the Kingdom of God. The kingdom of God is here; heaven is here now. 

            There are moments in life where I need to stop, to look where I have walked, and confess, “I need a reset.” I need to get back to Jesus. 

            The restoration of Peter in John 21:15-19 is the template of this reset. We know that if we fail in following Jesus, that Peter’s disastrous failure and reset give us assurance that Jesus will restore us. Peter denied knowing Jesus. That’s got to be the worst thing you can do to Jesus. 

            In our portraits of the witnesses of the Resurrection, we find that if fail Jesus in discipleship, he will restore us.

There’s no going back (John 21:1-14)

 

In John’s gospel narrative, the week following the Passion was incredibly dramatic. Sunday morning the tomb was empty; Jesus’ body no longer wrapped in grave clothes; women running around saying Jesus was alive. Then Jesus appears to the Ten disciples behind locked doors. A week later, Jesus appears again and invites Thomas to put his hands on the wounds and see that Jesus is flesh and blood. 

            Peter and the disciples have seen the resurrected Christ! First, they witnessed the horrible death of their Teacher; now he’s alive and talking to them. What would you do next? 

            Peter says, “I’m going fishing,” (3).

            When you don’t know what to do, do what you know, I guess. Six of the disciples decided to go with him. For Peter, fishing was a reset, going back to his old job. It was comfortable, familiar, stable work. He didn’t grab his pole and just sit on the dock; Peter went back to work. 

            There are two literary cues, two déjà vu moments that tell the reader that “there’s no going back now.” 

            First, we read, “They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing,” (3b). Sound familiar? Then some stranger on the shore yells out, “Caught anything?” Nope! “Cast the net on the right side of the boat, and you shall find some,” (6). They catch so many fish that they can’t haul in the nets. You know you’ve heard this somewhere before. When Jesus first called some men to follow him, they were fishing just like this. Jesus tells them where to fish and they are amazed at the catch. Peter’s response is fear, “he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord,” (Luke 5:8). 

            Then we read that Jesus is making breakfast on the shore and he invites the men to bring some fish. What had Jesus done? He built a charcoal fire and invited Peter and the disciples to sit around it. Can you imagine being Peter and eating breakfast, or trying to, with the familiar smell of a charcoal fire bringing you back to that dreadful night? There is only one other place in the NT that talks about a charcoal fire: the night outside the high priest’s house where Jesus was on trial, where Peter stood warming himself while denying he knew Jesus (18:8).

            The olfactory memory always astounds me. We smell something and it brings us back to an event of some importance. Sometimes the aroma is comforting and brings you back to better times. Other times, you don’t want to remember. 

            I imagine Peter had a hard time choking his breakfast down as the charcoal fire brought him back to his denials. What was Jesus going to do? What was he going to say? 

            Dr. Mark Rutland tells of a survey conducted some years ago. Several thousand Americans were asked, “What did they most want to hear from other people?” The number one answer, “I love you.” No surprise there. The second answer was close to the first, “I forgive you.” But the third answer was more surprising. The third? “Supper’s ready!” 

            Think about that; that’s pretty much the gospel in a nutshell. The scene on the beach encapsulates the gospel as Jesus will say to Peter in effect: “I love you. I forgive you. Come and eat with me.” 

            Peter can’t go back to fishing. Jesus won’t let him. Once you have been confronted with the risen Jesus, life will never be the same again. 

 

But how do I go forward? (John 21:15-19)

 

Once you have encountered the living Christ, how do you go back to your day job and live like it doesn’t matter? Okay, fine, but I have failed him, you say. I have not spoken up for him in the coffee room. I feel like I haven’t grown spiritually. I have even “denied him” by choosing the popular way of living over the radical ways of Jesus. Sometimes I’m not even a good neighbor, you say. 

            I can’t go back, but how do I go forward? 

            Do you think you are unredeemable? Peter must have thought that he was beyond hope of restoration. But look at the exchange between Jesus and Peter and note the cues:

            Jesus says, “Simon, son of John…” (15-17). Maybe it’s a little thing, but if you look through John’s narrative, Simon is called “Peter” throughout. The only time Jesus calls Peter, “Simon, son of John,” is when he first met him and said, “You shall be called Cephas (Peter),” (1:42). This is the reset. Jesus is bringing Peter back to where their journey together began. Jesus does not bring up his past, his sinful life “before Christ,” but brings him to the day that changed everything. Meeting Jesus. Following Jesus. Experiencing Messiah. 

            Your reset may involve revisiting the time when you first believed in Jesus, recalling the peace and forgiveness you initially felt. Your reset may be recalling the moments when Jesus was most real to you, remembering how truth impacted you or how God’s people rallied to you. 

            Then Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?” Three times! The first time, Jesus says, “…do you love me more than these?” (15). These what? The fishing boats and the old life on the sea? More than these men that fished with you? Most likely “more than these” is referring to Peter’s boast in Mark 14 where he says, “Even though others will fall away, I will not.” But he did fall away! He denied Jesus three times, each time more furious than the first. And after the third denial, Peter went out and wept bitterly. 

            Peter was a broken man, and his denials of Jesus reflected his rejection of crucified Jesus. He wanted King Jesus, a conqueror, a world-beater. Now Jesus confronts him with the question that boils down to this for Peter and for us as well – Do you love Jesus as he is, crucified and risen? Or is your love for him conditional on who you want him to be? Will you accept Jesus on his terms? 

            Peter’s answer is emphatic, “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.” (15). No more boasting about what he will do for Jesus; Peter appeals to what he believes Jesus knows. You know that I love you, Jesus. This is the biggest part of your reset: Do you love Jesus? Everything comes back to this profession of love. Not, “Do we love what Jesus does for us?” But “Do you love Jesus?” 

            The reset (you may call it repentance in some cases) includes sorrow for sin, but that is not enough. A change of heart means hating sin and loving Jesus. Whatever keeps you from loving Jesus and loving him most of all – heart, soul, mind, and strength – it must go. 

            Peter is getting upset with the repeated question, “Do you love me?” But I’m sure you see what Jesus is doing. Peter denied him three times and three times, Jesus asks “Do you love me?” This is the restoration of Peter. And what it tells us is you cannot out sin the grace of God. As far as your sin goes, the gospel goes further still (Shall we go on sinning that grace may increase? By no means! Rom. 6:1)

            Following each “Yes Lord…I love you,” Jesus tells Peter to act like a shepherd…feed my lambs…tend my sheep…feed my sheep. Our reset in coming back to Jesus comes with a responsibility. That responsibility is to be like Jesus, the Good Shepherd. Isaiah 40 pictures God as a shepherd, “He will tend his flock like a shepherd; he will gather the lambs in his arms; he will carry them in his bosom, and gently lead those that are with young,” (40:11). Now Jesus calls us to be shepherds, to care for the people around us. If we love Jesus, we will be like him; if we are like him, we will care for others. 

            When Jesus had finished restoring Peter to his place among the disciples, he had one final thing to say: “Follow me.” The original invitation given when Peter first met Jesus was repeated. 

            Peter needed a reset. Jesus brought him back to the beginning of their relationship with verbal cues: Simon, son of John; a threefold question regarding love to erase the threefold denial in the courtyard; the shepherd motif; and the simple invitation, “follow me.” Maybe you don’t need to go back to the beginning of your journey with Jesus; maybe you just need to go back to Jesus…

 

Do you feel like a failure as a disciple of Jesus? Do you feel like you have not measured up to what you think is required of a follower?

            Failure doesn’t mean you’ve blown everything. It means you have some hard lessons to learn. It doesn’t mean you are a permanent loser. It means you aren’t as smart as you thought you were. It doesn’t mean you should give up. It means you need to go back to Jesus for a reset. It certainly doesn’t mean that God has abandoned you. It means that God is continuing to work in you, shaping you, transforming you into follower of Jesus. 

            If you have failed in one way or another, look at Peter. Only Judas fell harder. Peter’s is a story of restoration, and it is an encouragement to all of us that the grace of Jesus goes further, deeper, and to greater lengths to catch you when you fall. 

            You have met the resurrected Jesus at one point in your life. And over the course of your life, Jesus has been changing you. I am not a perfect example, but I call attention to myself for a moment. If you love anything about me, if you are glad when I am around, if you see anything good in me, be convinced of this one thing – it is only because Christ is in me. It is only because he has reset me time after time, and I am a work in progress. 

            If you have only met the resurrected Jesus this very morning, I want you to know you will never be the same and you can never go back to the old ways. You are made new. 

            “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation. The old has passed away; behold the new has come,” (2 Cor 5:17).

AMEN