The Anatomy of a Restoration Text: John 21:15-19
Introduction: The Grace of a Second Chance
We live in a brittle and unforgiving age. On the one hand, our culture has abolished the very category of sin, replacing it with therapeutic jargon about mistakes and brokenness. On the other hand, when a man actually does fall, and falls spectacularly, that same culture is utterly merciless. It offers no path back. There is no atonement, only endless shame, public scorn, and cancellation. The world preaches a cheap grace it never delivers and a harsh judgment it never relinquishes.
The church, sadly, often mimics this pattern. We can be quick to offer a sentimental, cotton-candy forgiveness that never addresses the gravity of the sin, or we can become Pharisees of the second chance, placing the fallen on a permanent probationary status, forever defined by their worst moment. We don't know what to do with a catastrophic failure like Simon Peter's.
Peter was not just any disciple. He was the spokesman, the rock, the one who made the great confession. And he was the one who, after boasting that he would die for Jesus, fell apart at the accusation of a servant girl and denied his Lord three times with oaths and curses. If anyone was finished, if anyone was disqualified, it was Peter. His failure was absolute, public, and shameful. And yet, here on the shores of Galilee, over a breakfast of fish cooked by the resurrected Christ, we are about to witness one of the most profound moments in all of Scripture. This is not just a private reconciliation. This is a formal, covenantal restoration to office. It is the anatomy of how God rebuilds a man from the ashes of his own failure. And it is a pattern for us all, because we are all, in some measure, Peter.
The Text
So 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, "Tend My lambs."
He said to him again a second time, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?" He said to Him, "Yes, Lord; You know that I love You." He said to him, "Shepherd My sheep."
He said to him the third time, "Simon, son of John, do you love Me?" Peter was grieved because He said to him the third time, "Do you love Me?" And he said to Him, "Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You." Jesus said to him, "Tend My sheep.
Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to gird yourself and walk wherever you wished; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will gird you, and bring you where you do not wish to go."
Now this He said, signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God. And when He had spoken this, He said to him, "Follow Me!"
(John 21:15-19 LSB)
The Threefold Question (vv. 15-17a)
After the quiet intimacy of breakfast, Jesus turns to Peter. And He does not begin with, "Don't worry about it." He begins with a surgeon's scalpel.
"Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?" (John 21:15)
Notice, He calls him "Simon, son of John." He uses his old name, the name he had before he met Jesus. This is a deliberate reset. Jesus is taking him back to the man he was, the raw material, before the boasting and the fall. Then comes the piercing question: "Do you love me more than these?" More than what? More than these fish, this boat, this old life you seem to be returning to? Perhaps. But it is far more likely that Jesus is gesturing to the other disciples. He is echoing Peter's own proud declaration in the upper room: "Even if all are made to stumble because of You, I will never be made to stumble" (Matthew 26:33). Jesus holds up a mirror to Peter's pride. The first step in restoration is a frank acknowledgment of the arrogance that led to the fall.
There is a famous distinction in the Greek here. The first two times Jesus asks, He uses the word agape, which refers to a deep, covenantal, self-sacrificing love. Peter, now shattered and humbled, cannot bring himself to use that word. He answers with phileo, which means brotherly affection, friendship. He is done making grand claims. He simply says, "Yes, Lord; You know that I have affection for You." He makes no comparison to the others. He simply appeals to what the Lord already knows.
The third time, Jesus changes His word. He descends to Peter's level. "Simon, son of John, do you have affection for me (phileo)?" This is what grieves Peter. It is not that Jesus doubts his love. It is that the third question is the final turn of the knife in the wound of his third denial. One question for each denial. The poison must come out. The sin must be faced in all its ugliness for the healing to be thorough. Peter's grief is a godly sorrow that leads to repentance. His final answer is one of complete surrender: "Lord, You know all things; You know that I love You." He abandons all self-defense and casts himself entirely on the omniscience of Christ. This is the bedrock of true repentance. We stop telling God what we think He should know and instead trust what He already does know.
The Threefold Commission (vv. 15b-17b)
Each of Peter's humble answers is met with a divine command. This is crucial. Jesus is not just forgiving Peter; He is recommissioning him.
"He said to him, 'Tend My lambs.'... He said to him, 'Shepherd My sheep.'... Jesus said to him, 'Tend My sheep.'" (John 21:15-17 LSB)
The restoration is as public and as emphatic as the failure. For every denial, there is a corresponding commission. The man who disowned the Great Shepherd is now commanded to be an under-shepherd of that same flock. This is grace upon grace. Biblical forgiveness is not about wiping the slate clean so you can go sit on the sidelines. It is about wiping the slate clean so you can be put back in the game. God does not restore us to a state of comfortable uselessness. He restores us for service.
This exchange lays bare the one non-negotiable qualification for all Christian ministry: a genuine love for Jesus Christ. The work is demanding. The sheep are prone to wander, they bite, and they get into trouble. The only thing that will keep a man faithful in the pastoral work is not his seminary degree, his administrative skill, or his preaching ability. It is his love for the Chief Shepherd. Do you love Christ? Then feed His sheep. If you do not, you have no business being near them.
The Costly Calling (vv. 18-19)
As soon as the restoration is complete, Jesus immediately defines the nature of Peter's future ministry. It will not be a life of self-determination and ease. It will be a life that ends at the cross.
"Truly, truly, I say to you, when you were younger, you used to gird yourself and walk wherever you wished; but when you grow old, you will stretch out your hands and someone else will gird you, and bring you where you do not wish to go." (John 21:18 LSB)
Jesus contrasts the freedom of youth with the constrained path of discipleship. The natural man, the young Peter, straps on his own belt and goes wherever he pleases. This is the essence of autonomy. But the restored man, the mature Peter, will be led. He will stretch out his hands, an unmistakable reference to crucifixion, and another will bind him and take him to a place his flesh does not want to go. Peter failed to follow Jesus to His cross. Now, Jesus tells him that the ultimate end of his restoration will be to follow Jesus to his own cross.
John, the author, removes all doubt. "Now this He said, signifying by what kind of death he would glorify God." Notice the language. Martyrdom is not a defeat. It is not a tragedy. It is the means by which a disciple glorifies God. It is the final, ultimate confession of faith, declaring that Jesus is Lord and Caesar is not, and that to die in Christ is gain. The cowardly denier would become the courageous martyr. The restoration was not just for Peter's comfort, but for God's glory.
The Simple Command
After this profound, emotional, and weighty exchange, Jesus boils everything down to two simple words.
"And when He had spoken this, He said to him, 'Follow Me!'" (John 21:19 LSB)
This is where it all began, on this same shore, when Jesus first called Peter from his nets. And this is where it begins again. After the fall, after the restoration, after the prophecy of a cross, the command is the same. Follow Me. It is a call to leave the past behind, both the sins and the successes. It is a call to entrust the future, even a future that leads to martyrdom, into the hands of the sovereign Christ. It is a call to simple, moment-by-moment, obedient walking with Jesus.
This is the call to every one of us who has been restored by His grace. Our failures do not get the last word. Our fears do not get the last word. Our Lord gets the last word, and that word is, "Follow Me."
We are all Simon, son of John. We have all made our boasts and we have all collapsed in shameful denial in one way or another. But the risen Christ still meets us on the shoreline. He still cooks us breakfast. He asks the probing questions necessary to lance the wound of our sin. And when we, like Peter, abandon all pretense and cast ourselves on His mercy, He does not just forgive us. He commissions us. He tells us to get to work feeding His lambs. And then He gives us the same command that is both the beginning and the entire sum of the Christian life: Follow Me.