There’s a moment in John 21 that most people miss, because our English Bibles smooth it out.
Jesus asks Peter three times, “Do you love me?” On the surface, it sounds repetitive. Maybe even a little harsh. Peter is standing by a charcoal fire. The same detail John deliberately includes to pull you back to that other fire, the one in the courtyard where Peter said three times, “I don’t know the man.”
Same smell. Similar setting. Different outcome.
But here’s what gets lost in translation.
The first two times, Jesus uses agape. This is the all-in, unconditional, lay-your-life-down kind of love. And both times, Peter answers with phileo. The love of friendship. Brotherly affection. “I care about you. I’m with you… but I’m not pretending I’m something I’m not.”
Peter can’t get to agape. Not after what he’s done. Not after how badly he’s failed.
He’s not posturing anymore. He’s not making bold promises. That version of Peter died in the courtyard. It died as he watched Jesus hanging on the cross.
So he tells the truth.
“I love you… but not like that.”
And then it happens.
The third time, Jesus changes the word.
He meets Peter where he is.
“Do you phileo me?” Do you love me like a friend?
That’s when it hits Peter. That’s when it breaks him. Not because Jesus asked three times, but because Jesus lowered the bar of the question to meet the reality of Peter’s heart.
Jesus didn’t demand a kind of love Peter couldn’t honestly give.
He met him in it.
And then, this is the part you don’t want to miss, Jesus commissions him anyway.
“Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.”
The calling wasn’t based on the strength of Peter’s love.
It was based on the strength of Jesus’ grace.
That’s the story.
And it’s not just for Peter. For you.
Because a lot of us live like we’re disqualified until we can finally say we love Jesus the “right” way. Fully. Completely. No hesitation. No inconsistency.
But that’s not how this works.
If you can say, “Jesus, I love you with everything,” he says go.
If you can only say, “Jesus, I’m trying… I care… I’m not where I should be,” he still says go.
Because his love for you didn’t start with your response. And it doesn’t rise and fall based on your performance.
He meets you where you are.
Not to leave you there but to send you from there.
And somehow, that’s enough.
I liked your teaching on this. Makes me contemplate the struggle that was/is in Peter and me. Just not there yet and we do want to be.
Well stated yet again. Very timely for some discussions we have had here at Home too.