3rd Sunday of Easter, Cycle C (2025)

Today’s Gospel tells us a lot about coming to terms with our mistakes and moving forward. It tells us a lot about the person, St. Peter—a person like so many of us, at the same time courageous and cowardly, faithful and unreliable, inspiring and disappointing.

The disciples had returned to their former source of livelihood: fishing. They went out in the darkness of night, when fishing was most likely to prove fruitful. Their boat would glide smoothly over the lake. With torches to provide visibility, the men would stare into the water until they saw a school of fish and then, like lightning, they would cast their net or lance a spear.

St. John tells us they caught nothing all night and I can imagine that on such a night, in the quiet moments, Peter would have a lot of time to think about all that had happened: thinking all the way back to how he had assured Jesus, “I will lay down my life for you” (Jn 13:37), yet in the end had denied even being a follower of Jesus. And while there would have been some consolation in Jesus’s glorious resurrection—for indeed he was alive, not dead, after all—and consolation in the first words he said to them after the resurrection, “Peace be with you”, still…All through the night of fishing, Peter would have had a lot of time to be haunted by his mistakes and his regrets.

Then after that long night, much to their surprise, Jesus suddenly appears to them. Thinking of Peter, undoubtedly grateful but also bearing shame. Can’t anyone with a living conscience relate to this feeling: some occasion when we’ve badly hurt someone we love? It’s one thing to struggle within our own minds, but it’s another to stand before the person we’ve hurt.

Perhaps we can even imagine being at the gates of heaven: facing all the people with whom I never made things right in my lifetime, despite my opportunities: whether it was because I hoped they would simply forget about how I had hurt them; or how I justified for myself my poor decisions; or maybe I never tried to make things right before they died.

And thinking about Jesus’ words, “What you did not do for one of these least ones, you did not do for me….” (Mt 25:45)—I can imagine facing all those who needed help—help I could have given—and simply was too preoccupied with so many other things that I convince myself are more important. With that feeling of shame, somehow I imagine that’s how Peter felt.

But despite all that, Jesus is about healing and just as he does for us in this lifetime, he guides Peter to healing. After breakfast, the two of them were off by themselves.

“Simon, son of John, do you love me…?”

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

A little later, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

“Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.”

And a little later still, “Simon, son of John, do you love me?”

Peter was distressed: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

So if Jesus were to ask you in the same way, “Do you love me?” I suspect any of us would say “Yes”. But if you couldn’t use words to answer him, and instead had to rely on your actions, how would they speak in response to that question? Does what you say and what you do reveal a love for Jesus? Maybe you’re like me, a little embarrassed and shamefully exposed.

Like Peter, we have a chance to come to terms with how we’ve hurt others. We have a chance to mend fences, even if it means being lead to where we don’t really want to go. Somehow I know that it was only when Peter had come to terms with his shame, that he could go on to receive the Pentecost Spirit that would make him into that fearless advocate for Jesus that we heard in the first reading proclaiming in defiance, “We must obey God rather than men”. As most of you know, Peter was indeed lead to where he would not have wanted to go—into the belly of the beast—Rome.

According to a Christian writing from the late 2^nd century, called the Acts of Peter, he was fleeing Rome for fear of persecution. Just outside the city he saw Jesus walking toward Rome and asked him, “Where are you going?”Jesus replied, “I am going to Rome to be crucified again”. That was what Peter needed to hear. It gave him the courage to turn around and face his fate, as the one Jesus had entrusted as leader. St. Clement, who probably was born in Peter’s lifetime, tells us that Peter was martyred. In about the year 64, while Nero ruled Rome, as Jesus foretold, Peter indeed stretched out his hands, on a cross. He overcame his shame and thus was able to live out Jesus’s call.

So if indeed, like St. Peter, we cannot truly move forward toward the call of Christ, until we’ve made things right, what is it for you? In what way do you fear standing before Jesus with your soul exposed. In what way does your heart fester with regret? Let us trust in Jesus, who would likewise pull you or me aside to make things right and ask, “Do you love me? Good. I am with you. Follow me. Let’s go and make it right.”