“Then the disciple Jesus loved said, ‘It’s the Master.’ Simon Peter, hearing that it was the Master put on his clothes (he’d been working naked), and threw himself into the sea” (John 21.7).
The last thing you want to do right before taking a swim is put on clothes. Taking things off, sure. You toss your shirt, hat, and shades on your towel (and make sure your bathing suit’s snug) before hitting the water. So, I can’t help wondering what Peter was thinking when he got dressed before jumping into the lake.
I have a thought about why.
Ever foul something up. Dumb question, we all have. I mean when what you’ve done reaches the point of feeling ashamed, something you’d rather everyone didn’t know about and there’s someone you really, really don’t want to run into because of it. Those times when you try and hide out in the other room or maybe find an excuse to leave early.
This isn’t the first time Peter’s encountered Jesus post his Friday morning denials. He was there with everyone else when Jesus came to them that Sunday (somehow bypassing the lock on the door). But, Jesus is a stand-up guy. He’s not going to call you out in front of everyone. Jesus is like that good boss who doesn’t say a word in the meeting, but as you’re walking out asks if you’d mind swinging by his office for a moment.
So, sure, Jesus has let Peter save face. Maybe the guys with him know the story. It’s certainly what you talk about as you pass around a bottle, watch the stars come out. Least, that’s when guys tend to talk about their darker secrets and shame. But most folks don’t know that in the critical moment he’d failed. Despite his boasting to go with Jesus to the cross, when it came down to it he lied out of fear. Jesus wasn’t going to let that secret out in front of everyone.
But here, early in the morning with no one else around, Peter figured that this is when it was going to happen. His friend would ask him to take a little walk down the beach with him, and he’d tell him that he was out of the gang. He wasn’t the leader of this group anymore. You understand, don’t you. Nothing personal. I just need someone who isn’t going to crack under pressure.
For years, I’ve read this passage with the idea that Peter, after jumping into the water, swam to shore. But there’s no indication of that. All we know is that Peter dives in, the other guys wrestle in the net (“Thanks for the help, Pete”), and sail to shore. The next time we see Peter, he’s climbing aboard the boat to help unload.
I don’t think Peter had any intention of swimming to shore. I think he was going to make a run for it, which is why he grabbed his clothes before he hit the water.
If I were Peter, I’d have hid in the water, on the opposite side of the boat, swam in with it, and made ready for when Jesus wasn’t looking and made a break for it. Hopefully, I’d make it halfway to town before Jesus asked about me. Least, until I heard that voice saying, “Hey, how ’bout staying for breakfast.”
You know those moments, like I mentioned above, where you’re trying to stay out of sight of someone and then they say something just loud enough to let you know that they know you’re there, hiding. When you know you haven’t fooled anyone. You know you have to come out and face the music.
That’s what Peter did. Dripping wet, he cleaned the fish, sat close to the coals to chase off the chill and ate, waiting, dreading when everyone sat back patting their stomachs and pouring another cup of coffee.
There’s another time when Peter’s all wet. Matthew records that when Jesus came out of the darkness, walking upon the water Peter climbed out of the boat and stood atop the waves. That is, until he realized what he was doing and sank like a stone before Jesus pulled him up.
And then, like in this moment, there’s no criticism. There are no harsh words. Pulling Peter into his arms, Jesus asks him why did he doubt. Following breakfast, Jesus asks Peter three times if he loves him. Each time, in response to Peter’s answers, Jesus does the opposite of what Peter expected. He didn’t remove him from his position. He didn’t tell him there’s no room in his Realm for cowards. Jesus, instead, makes clear Peter’s calling.
I can’t speak for you, but I know there are plenty of things I’ve done and even more I’ve neglected to do that, if Jesus were outside my door, would make me creep off into the back of the house, turning off all the lights as I go. Because, he ought to be disappointed in me. He ought to read me the riot act and tell me he’s got no more use for me.
But Peter’s story tells us how that encounter would go, in fact does go each and every day. Wet and ashamed we end up picking seaweed out of our hair and wondering what we can say, how we can make it right.
And Jesus? He just says it’s time for breakfast.
Risen One, in our anxiety you bless us with peace, in our shame you meet us with forgiveness, and when we feel unworthy you set us to work. May we live this reality each day, and do the same for those we know.