Let’s put this post in the “How did I miss that all these years?” folder. I was finishing up a book, The 10-Second Rule, by Clare De Graaf, in which he wrote about the breakfast Pater had with Jesus in John 21.
For those unfamiliar with the Bible, this was Peter’s first encounter with Jesus after he had denied even knowing Jesus. You can imagine how tense it might have felt. Jesus, not one to hold a grudge, built a fire on the shore and asked for some of the fish that had just been caught. He prepared it over the fire, and they all sat together to eat. The Bible doesn’t record any conversation during the meal, and having experienced several extremely awkward meals in my life, that seems about right to me.
Let’s pick up the story in verse fifteen…
“After breakfast Jesus asked Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” (John 21:15)
I’ve preached this passage so many times and read it countless more, but somehow I’ve missed the end of that question. You know those word tricks where one word is written twice, but you can’t see it because your mind blocks it? Like that, only this time, as De Graaf wrote about it in the book, I saw it. Jesus didn’t just ask Peter if he loved him; he asked him if he loved him more than these.
What, or who, are these? The Bible doesn’t say, which means it’s entirely possible that Jesus, still chewing the freshest catch of the day ever, motioned with his hand and invited Peter to look around at all that could be seen as he posed the question.
The boat. The catch. The men. The crisp morning air and a hint of a breeze at the water’s edge. They were in their old stomping grounds, so their families might have been nearby, playing, laughing, or talking over morning chores.
“Peter, do you truly love me more than these?”
Is it any wonder that Peter eventually got very honest with Jesus and admitted that Jesus knew all things, and knew how Peter’s love for Jesus ranked among his love for everything else (see John 21:17)?
When this passage is read in the Greek (I can’t do that, but I do have the internet for research!), it becomes even more clear. Jesus uses the word agape the first two times he asks Peter if he loves him, but Peter answers with the word phileo. When Jesus uses phileo the third time, Peter is sad because Jesus knew the true extent of Peter’s love. The scope of his love had been exposed! Jesus knew Peter was a friend, but also knew that there was a deeper love that Peter would need to experience to continue saying yes to the painful road ahead of him.
“Paul, do you love me more than these?”
Do I love Jesus more than my hopes and dreams? More than my children, and The B99? More than my reputation? More than the balance in our bank account? More than the people I love deeply who may not understand my deeper love for Jesus? More than my life?
If Jesus would only ask us if we love him, the answer would be easy, wouldn’t it? Yes, Lord, you know I love you!!
But when he asks us if we love him more than these, our lives betray our answers, don’t they? All of us can see the numerous ways we choose other things over Jesus and, like Peter, become sad when we realize that Jesus knows it, too.
But the story isn’t over. The fire is still burning, and as the dry wood cracks and pops, Jesus does something that changes everything.
He gave Peter the greater call. Not just to take care of Jesus’ lambs or feed his sheep, but to prepare for the way that Peter would one day die. Jesus wasn’t calling Peter to love him only but, rather, to make loving him the priority. Jesus knows that the more we love something, the more we’ll love choosing that something, or, in the case of Peter, and us, someone.
In Revelation 2:4, Jesus called out the church for leaving its first love. The Greek word used for “first” is the word we get “prototype” from. It means “first in rank, honor, influence; first in any succession of things or persons.”
Jesus doesn’t want us to love him and hate everything else. He wants us to love him more than everything else. A deep, “known by him” type of love that can become the prototype for the love we give to everyone else.
When Jesus asks us if we love him more than these, and our answer, like Peter, isn’t the one we want it to be, then the solution isn’t doing more, but simply remembering who we love more.
Peter died for Jesus because one day on the shore, as they ate breakfast together, Jesus expanded Peter’s heart to be able to love him more than anything, and anyone else.
He called him, and us, to a love that says yes before we even know the question, and sets us free to love others more deeply than we ever thought we could, and more completely than they ever hoped we would.
