After these things Jesus manifested himself again to the disciples at the sea of Tiberias. And he manifested [himself] thus.
Jesus had already shown Himself twice to His gathered disciples, and now John records a third meeting — on the lake where these men had once made their living. Two questions come up at once: why does the Gospel carry on after chapter 20 seems to close it, and why does John say twice in one verse that Jesus "revealed Himself"?
John repeats the same statement inside one verse. One writer asks why that emphasis is there and finds two reasons — one for the disciples, and one for us:
Notice how the emphasis is laid upon this showing of Himself. Verse 1 says it twice, and verse 14 says it again: "This is now the third time that Jesus showed Himself to His disciples after He was risen from the dead." He showed Himself to His disciples to confirm and strengthen them for all they would have to face for His sake in a hostile world. But this record is for us too, so that we may look at Him, have our hearts moved, and have our faith confirmed by what we see.
Some have called chapter 21 an appendix, tacked on later. One writer answers that this scene cannot be cut loose from the two before it:
There is no fair way to separate the appearing of Jesus at the lake of Tiberias from the two scenes before it. It completes them, and verse 14 lets us say so with confidence. So it is quite wrong to call John 21 an Appendix, and even more wrong to guess that it came long after the rest of the Gospel.
Another writer holds both together: the chapter flows on from what came before, yet the scene changes:
John 21 is not a postscript, for its continuity with everything that has gone before is clear. It is supplementary, however, in the sense that both historically and in terms of God's dealings the scene is changed. It all takes place at the Sea of Galilee, called by its Gentile name, the Sea of Tiberias, as John likes to do. In terms of God's dealings, it points to the gathering in of the Gentiles.
The lake was not a random spot. It was where these men had worked, and where the call to follow first reached them:
The story opens with seven disciples at the sea of Tiberias. We know that at this spot the disciples had been called from their trade as fishermen to follow the Lord and become fishers of men. For three and a half years they had kept company with the Lord in His lowly path, preaching the good news, healing the sick, and casting out demons. In all those years their needs had been met; they had lacked nothing.
One writer turns their wait into a question for today's reader:
They went down to Galilee and waited for Him to appear. Clearly He kept them waiting a little. What position do you and I occupy today? "Waiting for the coming of the Lord," you reply. True — and what happens in the meantime? We are being tested, as these seven were. They came back to the scene of old memories. The sparkling blue waters of the Sea of Galilee and the old boats and nets were in full view. While they waited for their Lord to appear, the temptation came to fill up the time by going fishing.
Was the fishing trip a failure? One writer will not call it that, yet sees the Lord closing off any thought of going back to the old trade for good:
We do not say the disciples clearly failed in this act, but if they had any thought of remaining merely fishermen, our Lord would put a stop to all that.
This is the third appearance John records. One writer reads the three together as one picture moving forward in time:
In the first we have seen the Church of God instructed. In the second we get the Jew believing and worshipping. The third scene undoubtedly gives us the future blessing of the Gentiles… He has not only blessed the Church, and is going to bless the Jew; but by and by all the Gentiles too will trust in Him. Notice, when they brought the fish to shore, the net did not break. By and by, when things are administered by Christ, there will be no failure.
- Shown — He revealed Himself, and revealed Himself in this way. He came to strengthen men facing a hostile world, and the same record strengthens our faith.
- Joined — verse 14 calls this the third time, tying the scene to the two before it. Writers differ on whether to call the chapter supplementary.
- Placed — the lake carries its Gentile name, and it is the ground where these men were first called away from their nets.
- Tested — they waited in Galilee, and the wait was the test. The old boats and nets were in full view, and the old trade pulled at them.
- Unbroken — the third showing points ahead: when Christ manages everything, the net holds and nothing fails.
There were together Simon Peter, and Thomas called Didymus, and Nathanael who was of Cana of Galilee, and the [sons] of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples.
The chapter opens with a roll call: seven men, five of them named, gathered by the lake in Galilee. John names them before telling us what happened, and the list itself carries much of the scene's meaning.
This is home water for these men. They grew up here, and here they walked away from their trade.
You know very well that the Sea of Tiberias is where these disciples were born and raised. It was there that Zebedee, the father of James and John, ran a large fishing business. The Lord first called Andrew and Simon, then James and John. It says, "They left their father Zebedee in the boat with the hired servants, and went after Him" (Mark 1:20). How did these disciples come to be back on this historic ground again?
They were in Galilee because the risen Lord had sent them there. The wait became a test.
You will remember that the Lord had said to the Galilean women, "Go tell my brothers to go to Galilee, and there they will see me" (Matt. 28:10). I have no doubt this instruction brought them to the place where Jesus met them. The message the angel sent through the same women did the same. They went down to Galilee and waited for Him to appear. Clearly He kept them waiting a little… They arrived at the scene of old memories, with the sparkling blue waters of the Sea of Galilee and the old boats and nets in full view. While they waited for their Lord to appear, the temptation came to fill up the time by going fishing. What ruled us in our unconverted days is very apt to reassert its influence if we are not watching.
Nathanael is named here with his home town. Many commentators think he also went by another name.
The writer calls him Nathanael here and in chapter 21, and never mentions him by any other name. He was, we learn, a native of Cana of Galilee; but no other New Testament writer introduces a Nathanael. So it is a very common opinion that he was the same person as Bartholomew… Bartholomew is a family name, and so probably not the man's personal name. There is no good reason why Nathanael and Bartholomew should not be the same person.
John's Gospel treats two of the seven with unusual reserve.
The sons of Zebedee. The only distinct mention in the Gospel of James and John, and, of course, not by name.
Some read this scene as a picture of what is still to come. The men named are those most closely tied to Israel, and the lake's name carries meaning too.
Peter, the leading apostle to the circumcision, is prominent all through. Next to him we have Thomas named, and then Nathanael, both typical representatives of Israel in the last days. The connection of Nathanael with Cana of Galilee, where the water was made wine, is noted here for the first time. Only the sons of Zebedee are named besides… "Christ's millennial work is not marred… Before He appears He will have prepared a remnant for Himself on the earth. But after He appears He will also gather a multitude from the sea of nations." The name "the sea of Tiberias" carries the name of the Caesar whom man has chosen for his king, and it may fittingly picture that sea of nations.
A plainer reading looks at the men themselves and how their thinking had shifted.
The story opens with seven disciples at the sea of Tiberias. At this spot the Lord had called these fishermen away from their trade to follow Him and become fishers of men. For three and a half years they had kept company with the Lord in His lowly path… In all these years their needs had been met; they had lacked nothing. Then the time came for the Lord to return to the Father. It seems they thought His direct care had ended when He left. They felt the time had come to take up their old trade again, in the old place, to meet their daily needs.
The verse notes that they were together. That closeness had a weak side.
Now, I do not say that the work was very deep. It was real, but there was a lack of depth… The ways of a man who holds a leading place, and his words too, matter a great deal to us here. How readily believers fall in with the word of anyone who takes the lead!
- Place. They are back where they grew up and where the Lord first called them from their nets. Old ground pulls.
- Waiting. They were in Galilee because the risen Lord had told them to be; the delay before He appeared became a test.
- Names. Many take Nathanael to be Bartholomew. John points out the sons of Zebedee here, but never names them.
- Seven. Peter leads, with Thomas and Nathanael beside him — read as a picture of a future gathering out of the sea of nations.
- Together. Their unity is real but shallow: one voice sets the direction, and the rest go along.
Simon Peter says to them, I go to fish. They say to him, We also come with thee. They went forth, and went on board, and that night took nothing.
Seven disciples are waiting in Galilee, where the risen Lord has appeared to them twice and no fresh orders have come. Peter breaks the silence with a plan of his own, and a night of fishing ends with an empty net.
The disciples were waiting in Galilee, and one writer sees that delay as deliberate.
The Lord kept them waiting a little. He would evidently test their hearts, as He does ours. Old associations, old interests and old occupations once controlled them. Faced with all of that again, can they — can we — wait only and simply for the Lord to come? How easy it is, if our hearts are not full of Christ, to take up worldly ties again, revive old interests and slip into old habits. We come back under influences we had escaped completely and rightly — for ever, as we supposed — when we first came to Jesus and were rejoicing in the greatness of His love, newly tasted.
Peter's proposal was not a sudden whim. Everything familiar was pressing on him at once.
To Simon Peter the Lord was long in coming. Peter was not a patient man, and he did not like being idle. The sea, the old boat, the nets, his wife and his mother-in-law — all the old ties urged him to act. He could not resist them. Then of course they had to live, and the sea was full of fish. So the old Simon spoke out: "I am going fishing."
Peter never asked anyone to come. He announced what he meant to do, and the whole group moved with him.
I do not say that the work was very deep. It was real, but there was a lack of depth. "Simon Peter said to them, 'I am going fishing.' They said to him, 'We will go with you.'" The ways of a person who holds a leading place matter greatly to us here, and so do his words. How readily believers fall in with the word of anyone who takes the lead!
Another writer measures Peter's step against the commission he had already been given.
It is plain that Peter's going fishing did not fit the commission our Lord gave him in the previous chapter: "As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you." No doubt it was Peter's suggestion that exposed a similar weakness in six more of them. Peter gave their weakness an opening to show itself, so he shares the blame for their fault. What a great blaze a little fire kindles! But the one who applies the torch is of course chiefly to blame. Here is the lesson I gather from it. The disciples knew Jesus well, but such acquaintance is not enough. Neither is understanding, without His personal keeping or the power of the Holy Spirit, which these seven were not enjoying at the time. Nothing else keeps a person on the right line, or turns him from earthly interests in one form or another.
Experienced fishermen fished all night on their own lake and caught nothing. One writer treats that failure as an answer, not bad luck.
Why this lack of success? Was it not that they had gone out at their own expense? Is this not also the reason why we often spend much labour with little return? We toil all night; we take nothing. We act sincerely, it may be, but according to our own will, and not under the direction of the Lord.
Peter had denied the Lord. Now he picks the nets back up — the act, one writer suggests, of a man who thought his service was over.
We open this chapter to find him going back to his fishing and taking six of the other disciples with him. It was not for this kind of fishing that the Lord had first called him. He knew the Lord had forgiven him. Yet it looks as if he was assuming that his commission to serve would have to lapse. The risen Shepherd, however, was about to restore his soul fully. He would lead the feet of all of them into the paths of righteousness. Their trip on the lake was a failure. Verse 3 sums it up in two words: "night" and "nothing."
The chapter does not end with the empty net. Cold, hungry men come ashore to find a fire already lit and food already cooking.
A divinely provided breakfast for disobedient disciples! Not a word of reproach did the Saviour address to Peter or to his companions until He had first refreshed them with His bounty. Oh, the gulf that separates this gracious One from even the best of His people!
- Waiting — The delay before He came was itself a test. Could they wait only for Him?
- Drifting — Impatience reached for the familiar. The boat, the nets and the old trade were all still there.
- Leading — Peter did not recruit anyone, yet six followed a single sentence. A leading voice carries others further than it intends.
- Emptying — A whole night of skilled work produced nothing. They went out at their own expense, not at His direction.
- Restoring — The empty net was not the end. The risen Shepherd was already moving to restore Peter and lead them all into the paths of righteousness.
And early morn already breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; the disciples however did not know that it was Jesus.
Seven tired men had fished all night and caught nothing. As the light came up, the risen Christ was standing on the beach — and not one of them knew Him.
He did not arrive at daybreak. Daybreak was only when He chose to let them see Him. Mawson dwells on what He had been doing all night:
As the red dawn chased the night-mists across the sea their Lord stood on the shore. Who can tell with what tenderness He looked upon them, hungry, weary, and dispirited as they were! He had looked upon them all through that night of toil. He had watched over them with love beyond words, for they were "His own," and the love He bore them could not change. Now the moment had come when He would show Himself to them.
He had told them where to wait for Him. Instead they went back to the trade they had left. Wolston ties their failure to recognise Him to that choice:
A little bit of self-will always blinds the eye. A little bit of taking our own way will certainly bring spiritual blindness. So will a little departure from the known will of the Lord. Why did they not know Him now? There He stood. The fact was this: He had told them to go and wait for Him. But they took their own way and went fishing instead, turning back to the old paths they had been called out of years before. They were inclined to take the road that offered itself as a temptation, instead of patiently waiting and watching for Him to appear. So when He does appear, they do not know Him.
The same blindness has a wider application. Another writer reads the moment as a standing lesson about attention:
This is surely meant to teach us that if we are occupied with our own plans and purposes, it is unlikely that we will quickly discern the actual intervention of the Lord.
Not knowing Him did not put them outside His care. He speaks first, and He speaks like family:
Their night of hard and fruitless toil must have left them tired and dispirited men. Then it was that Jesus stood on the shore. They did not know Him, but He spoke to them in familiar terms, as a father might speak to disappointed boys... They did not know this stranger who seemed so concerned for them. But His tone was gracious and He spoke with authority, so they did as He told them.
This was not the first time these men fished all night for nothing:
Peter, with his usual energy, proposes to go fishing, and six others go with him. But the result is no better than before. Some of these same disciples, with the same Peter, had tried to catch fish before his call and theirs. Even in the days of the kingdom the power must plainly be of the Lord, not of man nor of the saints themselves. Peter had to learn that lesson, and he would.
Kelly marks what is different this time. The Lord is on the shore, not in the boat — and the scene points past that morning:
Here Jesus is not aboard, and there is no putting out into the deep. With the early morning just breaking He stood on the beach. Still unknown, He put a question which brought out their admitted lack of success... It is the figure of the great haul from among the nations in the age to come. Then the salvation of all Israel will prove to be beyond measure a blessing to the Gentiles.
What He was to those seven He remains. Mawson turns the scene into a word for every troubled believer:
As He showed Himself to those men, so He remains for every one of us. Do not doubt Him, burdened and troubled believer. His eye has been upon you during your night of trial and seemingly fruitless toil. He waits to meet your need, to restore and refresh you, and to give you such evidence of His care that you will never doubt Him again. He rises long before daybreak on your behalf. If you woke hours earlier than you do, and your needs were ten thousand times greater than they are, they would still not exhaust the resources or the grace of the Lord.
- Watching. He was on the shore before the light showed Him. The whole night of toil was under His eye, and He chose the moment to show Himself.
- Blinded. They took their own way instead of waiting where He said, and it dulled their sight. Self-will leaves us slow to know the Lord when He stands in front of us.
- Speaking. They did not know Him, yet He spoke first, like a father to disappointed boys. His care did not wait for them to recognise Him.
- Emptied. The barren net repeated an old lesson: the power must plainly be the Lord's, not the disciples'.
- Filled. At His word the net fills — a sign pointing beyond the lake to the nations. And the same eye still watches every believer's night of fruitless toil.
Jesus therefore says to them, Children, have ye anything to eat? They answered him, No.
The disciples have fished all night and caught nothing. At daybreak a stranger calls to them from the shore. His question is short and ordinary, yet it forces an admission out of them, and everything that follows in the chapter grows out of that.
Before He says anything about fish, He gives them a name. One writer hears warmth in it, not rebuke:
His voice sounded over the water. "Children." It was a term of endearment, such as He might have used to a band of irresponsible lads.
Commentators differ on how much weight the word carries. Some read it as ordinary speech, the kind of greeting anyone might call across water to a working crew:
"Children [or lads, using a common term applied to men at work] do you have any fish [or better, anything to eat]?" Such a question would doubtless not sound strange.
The way He frames the question already leans toward the answer:
In the Greek Testament the word the Lord used is not "Children." It is the smaller, softer form of that word, paidia — or, as we would say, "Little children." But I do not think He was thinking of their age or size. I think that little word came from the Lord's loving concern for them. They had faced a long, discouraging night of failure, and now they had no breakfast. The very form of His question, as recorded in Greek, shows that He knew the answer must be "No!" Then the same love that asks the question in that form tells them what to do.
He does not scold them for the wasted night. The question does the work instead:
The disciples had gone back to the old life, but the Lord, far from rebuking them, speaks to them with tender affection. He calls them "children." Still, He shows how useless their work is without His direction. He asks, "Do you have any fish?" Have they gained anything by their labour in the dark? They have to admit that they have nothing.
They take Him for a hungry stranger asking for food. That misunderstanding turns out to be the point:
Doubtless they thought that this stranger, whom they had not yet recognised, was in need of food. But the question forced them to admit that until now all their labour had given nothing to Christ. Then came the words, "Cast the net." It was as if He said to them, "If you would give Me something, you must receive it from Me." From that moment John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, could no longer be mistaken. To him the Lord was One who gave, and to whom nothing was given.
Their reply is a single syllable. One writer treats that flatness as a symptom worth noticing:
This question shows beautiful courtesy and deep interest in them... but their reply throws His courteous words into sharper contrast. "They answered him, No." A cold, bare "No." Could anything be coarser? "But," you say, "they did not know Him." That is the sad consideration for us. When we are away from Christ the real state of our hearts comes out, and often through our lips. They do not say "No, Lord," nor even "No, sir," but a bare "No."
The One asking whether they had food had food waiting. The question was never about His need:
He knew all about the darkness and the toil and the empty net, and there He was on the shore to kindle a fire and prepare a dinner for them. Yes, the same Jesus who had died on the cross to put away their sins now stood on the shore. He was there to restore them from their wanderings, gather them round Himself, and meet all their need. "Do you have any fish?" brought out how fruitless their night's toil had been. "Come and have breakfast" showed the tender, thoughtful, all-providing love of the risen Saviour.
- Nothing caught. A night of skilled effort without His direction ends with an empty net — the toil is real, the result is nothing.
- Nothing hidden. The very form of His question shows He already knew the answer would be "No"; He asks so that they will say it out loud.
- Nothing given. They had nothing to hand Him. Whatever they would give Him, they first had to receive from Him.
- Nothing rebuked. He does not scold. He calls them "children" — a word of affection, though some read it as no more than a greeting to men at work.
- Nothing lacking. The One who asked about food had already lit a fire and prepared a meal; the empty net was the doorway to "Come and have breakfast."
And he said to them, Cast the net at the right side of the ship and ye will find. They cast therefore, and they could no longer draw it, from the multitude of fishes.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
That disciple therefore whom Jesus loved says to Peter, It is the Lord. Simon Peter therefore, having heard that it was the Lord, girded his overcoat [on him] (for he was naked), and cast himself into the sea;
Dawn breaks on the lake after a night of empty nets, and a word from the shore fills them. One disciple sees who is standing there; the other jumps.
Nothing in the scene names the man on the beach. John knew Him because the same thing had happened before, on the same water, to the same men.
Years before, on the same spot, some of these men had gone through the same experience. They toiled all night and caught nothing. Then, when Jesus told them to, they let down the net and caught so many fish that the net broke. No doubt it was the memory of this that led John, quick to perceive, to say to Peter, "It is the Lord." Of course it was! Who else could it be?
Yet the others watched the same catch and said nothing. One writer points out that even John had seen nothing until that moment, and gives the reason.
That man, so quick to learn as a rule, had until this moment his eye blinded like the rest. Even a very spiritual believer will lose his spirituality and his keen perception of the truth, if he lets himself be dragged into ways that do not suit the mind of the Lord.
John speaks; Peter moves. The verse sets the two side by side without preferring either.
Here we see the characteristic difference between the apostles John and Peter. John knew the heart of Jesus more deeply. He is the man who can describe himself as "that disciple whom Jesus loved." He perceives it is the Lord. Peter, with his characteristic energy, casts himself into the sea to reach the Lord. Spiritual perception marks one disciple; promptness in action the other. Both are right, and both are needed in their time and season.
Another writer puts the difference in what each man's heart was full of.
John, like Mary Magdalene, was taken up with the person and the love of Christ. So he was quick to recognise Jesus, and did not need someone to tell him, "It is the Lord." John is satisfied to be the object of Jesus' love.
Peter had failed his Master badly not long before. What he does when he hears that his Master is near shows where he now stands.
He did not say to John or to the others, "You know how shamefully I have fallen. You go first and meet the blessed One, and I will follow." Instead he flings himself boldly into the sea. It is as much as to say, "I must be the very first to get to my risen Saviour. Nobody has such a claim on Him as poor, stumbling, failing Peter."
The change in Peter shows in what he no longer waits for.
He had once, when called, stepped out on the water to meet the Lord. This time he does not wait for an invitation. He seems to say, "I know He would like to have me near Him." And in a minute he is near the Lord. If he had not been right in his conscience as well as in his affections, he would have kept away a little.
The ESV says Peter was "stripped for work." Older translations say "naked," and one writer explains the word.
"Naked" does not have to mean completely bare. It means not properly dressed — perhaps wearing only an undergarment.
Peter hurried, but he did not arrive careless.
Peter, prompt as always, is the first to act so as to reach His presence — yet not naked, but properly dressed. He had failed badly, deeply and more than once. Yet his faith had not failed, just as the Saviour had prayed for him that it should not. Despair over the worst failure is no more of faith than indifference that does not hear the Saviour's voice.
Peter left the boat and the full net behind. One writer argues that this is what made him useful to the others.
Was not the boat worth more in itself than any catch of fish, however large? Peter springs out of it without the slightest hesitation. He pauses only to dress properly for the occasion. He has left everything for Christ. So he has the privilege of being the first disciple to reach the Lord, and of helping his brothers more than he could have done by staying with them. Do not those who come straight from the Lord's presence to help others always prove the best helpers of their toiling brothers?
- Recognition. John knew the man on the shore because he had seen the Lord do this before. Remembering past grace is what makes His present work recognisable.
- Occupation. The sharpest eye belonged to the man taken up with Christ's love for him. Ways that do not suit the Lord dull that sight.
- Nearness. Hearing "It is the Lord," Peter waits for no invitation. The man who once needed a call now knows he is wanted.
- Evidence. The plunge proves a conscience already cleared. Guilt hides; forgiveness swims.
- Cost. He left boat, net and catch behind and reached the shore first. The one who comes straight from the Lord's presence is the best help to those still toiling.
and the other disciples came in the small boat, for they were not far from the land, but somewhere about two hundred cubits, dragging the net of fishes.
Peter has jumped overboard to reach Jesus, while the other disciples stay in the boat, dragging the loaded net behind them. John notes the distance — about a hundred yards — and writers ask what that small detail means, and what the net stands for.
A hundred yards is a short gap — older translations measure it as two hundred cubits. It was still enough to leave the disciples unable to recognise who stood on the shore. One writer asks what that distance teaches about staying near enough to Christ to be useful:
They were only about a hundred yards from the shore, and yet they did not know who He was. I think that is why the Lord tells us the distance. If I am going to be useful to the Lord, I shall need to be nearer to Him than that. "I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you" (Ps. 32:8) is God's way of guidance. You could not see the turn of my eye at the end of the hall. You could see it if you were near me.
The same short distance is where the fish were. All night they had worked the open water and taken nothing:
The Lord pointed out the exact spot where they would now find plenty of the fish they had looked for in vain all through the night. There the net filled at once. The great fish were on the right side of the boat, about two hundred cubits from the land, near the Master. Far out on the waters, where the Master was not, they could not catch one.
Peter jumps; the others row. One writer sets John and Peter side by side and will not rank one above the other:
Here we see the characteristic difference between the apostles John and Peter. John, with his deeper knowledge of the heart of Jesus — the man who can describe himself as "the disciple whom Jesus loved" — sees that it is the Lord. Peter, with his characteristic energy, throws himself into the sea to reach the Lord. Spiritual perception marks one disciple; promptness in action the other. Both are right, and both are needed in their time and season.
The men in the boat get no rebuke for not swimming. They do the slower, heavier job, and that job is exactly what the catch required:
The Lord, however, despises none. The other disciples follow in the small boat, dragging the net full of the fish, for He had not given such a haul to leave it behind. Grace is what makes us differ, and it never makes us behave in an unfitting way. Peter acted rightly toward the Lord, and so did they in their place. After all, they all had one heart and one purpose: to please the Lord.
Others read Peter's move less warmly, noting that his rush left the work to the rest — commentators differ here on whether his leap was pure devotion or impatience:
Impulsive as usual, Peter clothes himself and swims to shore, leaving others to drag the net behind the boat.
Some writers read this whole scene as a picture of what is still to come. The net towed to land points to a future gathering, and to a net that does not break:
This last chapter is mysterious on purpose. It shows us what will take place when Jesus returns... It is the third time that Jesus shows Himself to them when they are together. As a picture, it was first of all for Christians, then for the Jewish remnant, and finally for the Gentile world. This is why Jesus had already here some fish on the fire, that is to say, the Jewish remnant. But when they throw the net into the sea of nations, the disciples gather a mass of fish, yet the net does not break.
Read that way, the load straining behind the little boat stands for people:
The great haul of fish may picture the host that will come from all nations. They will swell the ranks and join in the praises of that glorious time (Matt. 25:31-46; Rev. 7:9-17).
- Near. John records the hundred yards on purpose. A small distance from Christ is enough to leave us unable to recognise Him.
- Nearer. The fish lay close to the shore where He stood. Far out, away from the Master, the disciples caught nothing all night.
- Different. John perceives, Peter acts. Both are right, and both are needed in their season.
- Faithful. The Lord despises no one. The rowers serve in their place, because He never gives a catch for anyone to leave behind.
- Full. The net dragged to land pictures a coming gathering from every nation — a full net that does not break.
When therefore they went out on the land, they see a fire of coals there, and fish laid on it, and bread.
The disciples come ashore from a night of empty nets and find a fire already lit, with food cooking on it. Nobody in the boat had prepared it, so who did — and what was He saying by it?
The disciples had gone back to fishing, and the night produced nothing.
The disciples have already found that their own efforts to supply their needs are fruitless; now, having come to land, they find they are needless. For look — there is a fire already kindled to warm them, and fish and bread to feed them. And not only is food provided, there is an invitation to share the meal. They meet no word of rebuke for turning back, but a word of love that says, "Come and have breakfast."
Someone had thought ahead about what these men would need.
Who had kindled the fire and prepared the meal? … Who, then, had thought of their need, and would supply it, but the Lord? A fire to cook with, fish laid on it, and bread; nothing had been forgotten that could meet their needs. All was provided, and provided by the Lord.
Rising from the dead had not ended His service to them.
He had said to them in those former happy days, "I am among you as the one who serves." What an amazing word! It surely meant that He thought of their needs and cared for them constantly … And here again, in resurrection life, He had considered them and provided for their needs. They were cold. He knew it, and had lit a fire. They were hungry. He knew it, and had prepared fish and bread for their breakfast … Yes, He was their servant still. His love, which went far beyond anything they imagined, could not rest until their need was met. Those hands, now carrying the nail wounds in their palms, were as ready to serve as ever.
One detail on that beach had a history for Peter.
A striking thing on that shore — that fire of coals! The only other place we find it in the Gospels is that other well-remembered scene in the high priest's palace. How that fire must have spoken to Simon Peter! But the Lord says nothing. Their food is ready there, and He simply says, "Come and have breakfast"; and Peter eats with his Lord in the presence, so to speak, of his sin. Face to face with it, he is with his Lord as he had always been. No more than that? No — nearer than ever, surely.
The same fire carries a warning about the company Peter had kept.
I have no doubt that fire of coals spoke to Peter's conscience. It must have brought back to his memory the fire of coals in the high priest's hall, when he denied the Lord. He was warming himself then at the world's fire, and of course he got his fingers burned. And if you and I are on friendly terms with the world, sorrow and distress must follow.
These were men who had turned back to their old work.
When the weary fishermen reached the shore that morning they found "a charcoal fire in place, and fish laid out on it, and bread." A breakfast provided by God for disobedient disciples! … The Saviour spoke no word of reproof to Peter or his companions until He had first refreshed them with His generous provision. Oh, the gulf that separates this gracious One from even the best of His people!
The fire and the food were ready before a single disciple stepped ashore.
The Lord had worked before them and without them, though He would give them fellowship in the fruits of the activity of His grace. … The grace of God will work in a far more varied and vigorous way than people think. And while He is pleased to use His people, it is good for them at that very moment to learn that He can, and does, work independently.
Even the fish they carried up the beach had only one source.
The Lord had said, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." The truth was that they had worked all night and caught nothing. So the fish they hauled ashore were His. At His word they cast the net; in that spot these fish were found. They could only bring to the morning meal what He Himself had given them out of the sea.
- Prepared without them — their night's work produced nothing, and the breakfast on the beach showed the effort was never needed.
- Prepared by Him — no one else could have lit that fire; the meal names the Host before He speaks.
- Prepared for conscience — the charcoal fire recalled the one Peter denied Christ beside. He ate with his Lord face to face with his own failure, and nearer than ever.
- Prepared before the probing — no word of reproof comes until the men are warmed and fed. Grace moves first, correction second.
- Prepared to be shared — He already had fish, yet asked for theirs. His servants get a real part in a work that was His from the start.
Jesus says to them, Bring of the fishes which ye have now taken.
The risen Jesus stands on the shore at dawn. A fire is already burning, with fish and bread on it. Then He asks the seven men in the boat for some of what they have just pulled from the water. Why ask for fish from men who had caught nothing all night, when breakfast is already cooking?
The men had nothing to show for the whole night. What filled the net came from a word spoken by someone they did not yet recognise. That changes who owns the catch.
The Lord had said, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." The truth was they had toiled all night and had caught nothing. The fish, therefore, that they hauled ashore were His. At His word, they cast the net, and in that spot they found these fish. They could only bring to the morning banquet what He Himself had given them out of the sea.
He lacks nothing. Yet He words His call in a way that hands the credit back to the men who dragged the net.
His own resources are endless. Yet He stoops to acknowledge what His blessing produced through their own toil, saying, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught."
His call opens something shared. Two things stand together here: He needs no help, and He still wants His people inside His work.
While He is pleased to use His people, it is good for them at that very time to learn that He can, and does, work on His own. Yet the Lord would have His own enter into the fellowship of what He has done, as well as enjoy their own work.
They had gone back to fishing, and they had failed at it. What waits for them on the beach is warmth, food, and a welcome.
The disciples have already found that their own efforts to supply their needs come to nothing. Now, having come to land, they find those efforts were not even needed. For look — there is a fire already lit to warm them, and fish and bread to feed them. And not only is food provided, there is an invitation to share the meal. They meet no word of rebuke for turning back, but a word of love that says, "Come and have breakfast."
Commentators differ here. Some read the meal as coming only from what the Lord had prepared. The men feed on His work, not on their own success.
Here another point comes out: the disciples themselves had nothing to eat. Labour does not feed; it makes you hungry. Even fruitful labour, a miraculous catch of fish, left the disciples hungry... The meal was not prepared with fish taken from their net, but provided by the Lord Himself, who handed it out to them. They fed on the result of Christ's work, what He alone had done for them.
Others take His words at face value. They see a table where both sides give, each eating what the other brought.
In communion with their risen Lord, these seven men ate the food He brought out of His secret storehouse. And He ate the fruit of the work in which He had guided their hands. He first knocked; they opened the door; He entered; they had supper with Him, and He with them.
The net does not tear this time. The meal is ready before the catch arrives. Some read these details as a picture of a great gathering of the nations.
Now He sets forth Himself for their millennial work of bringing to Him from the sea of the nations... Here there is no breaking of the nets, no sinking of the boats. The net comes to land full of large fish, as fits the picture of that vast ingathering... Grace uses some to bring in the nations on a great scale. They learn that the Lord has done a work before them. He invites them to share the communion of His love in that work, which He had kept hidden until then. Eating, here as elsewhere, is the well-known picture of it. They ate the fish on the shore before what they had just caught on a larger scale.
- His word — the night's work produced nothing. The catch came only after He told them where to cast. The fish they carry up the beach were His before they were theirs.
- His credit — His resources are endless, yet He calls the fish theirs. He honours the toil that only His blessing made fruitful.
- His welcome — men who had drifted back to their old trade meet no rebuke, only a fire, a meal, and an invitation.
- His table — commentators differ on whose fish were eaten. Either way, the meal draws the workers into fellowship with work He had already done without them.
- His harvest — the net holds and the catch is huge. Some read this as a picture of a coming gathering from the nations, which He brings in and shares with His own.
Simon Peter went up and drew the net to the land full of great fishes, a hundred and fifty-three; and though there were so many, the net was not rent.
The risen Lord has cooked breakfast on the shore, and He asks the fishermen to bring some of their own catch. John records the moment with unusual care: a counted haul, and a net that held. Commentators read it both as a lesson for service now and as a picture of a gathering still to come.
The Lord already had fish cooking. He still asked for some of theirs.
Yet the Lord wants His own to share in what He has done, as well as enjoy their own work.
Peter had already thrown himself into the water to reach Jesus, leaving the others to row in with the load. That choice helped them more than it left them behind.
He has truly left everything for Christ. He has a double privilege. He is the first disciple to reach the Lord, and that also puts him in a position to help his brothers even more effectively than if he had stayed with them. All the advantage of firm footing on the shore is Peter's as he now draws the net to land, full of great fish. Don't those who come straight from the Lord's presence to help other loved ones always prove to be the most effective helpers of their hard-working brothers?
In Luke 5 a similar catch tore the nets and the boats began to sink. This time nothing tore, and writers see the difference as deliberate.
When the gospel catch was pictured (Luke 5:6), the net broke. But here, because the Lord was there, the net did not break. The gospel net gathered fish, and it still does; but as a whole the net broke, and they began to sink. Here they haul them in, and the Spirit of God notes that the whole thing is complete. The fish gathered out of the sea are the nations; but the Jewish remnant is already on the shore.
Fishermen selling a catch would round the number off — to dozens, or to scores of twenty. These men did not.
They knew how many were caught. It was not a rough figure in round numbers, like twelve or thirteen dozen, or seven or eight score. They counted them exactly, to a single fish — one hundred and fifty-three.
In one parable the net gathers fish of every kind, and they have to be sorted. Here there is nothing to throw away.
The parable in Matthew 13:47 shows us that right up to the close of the age the net holds both good and bad fish... The great catch in Luke 5:4-9 pictures service now. There the nets break, and the boats they put the fish into start to sink. None of that appears here. Here the days of the kingdom are set out, when the Lord is with His own on earth. Many great fish are named, but none bad. The account says plainly that the net was not torn. There is no thought of the boat sinking, and they dragged the net along instead of filling the boat.
One writer links the haul to Peter's preaching at Pentecost. He also passes on a suggestion about the number without claiming it as fact, and finds in the unbroken net a lesson about power for service.
At His word to bring some of the fish they had caught, Peter, full of strong love for the Lord, draws the net to land. It is a hint of the great blessing through his preaching later on the day of Pentecost, when about 3000 were converted (Acts 2:41). Some have said that the 153 great fish here match the actual number of nations existing at that time, which would be interesting if it could be verified. Unlike Luke 5:6, the net did not break, despite the great catch. It speaks of the power of God seen in Christ raised from the dead. That power is available to His disciples by the indwelling Spirit of God, so that they can keep up their testimony without breaking down.
Another writer reads the scene as a picture of what is still future.
So it will be when a great multitude is brought in (see Revelation 7) from the nations (pictured in the sea, Revelation 17:15). They will respond to the gospel call and enter the Millennium. This also will be a consequence of the death of the Son of God.
- Helper. Peter reached the Lord first, and firm ground on the shore let him help the others more than if he had stayed in the boat.
- Fellowship. He had food ready and still asked for theirs, so that His own would share in what He had done as well as enjoy their own work.
- Unbroken. In Luke 5 the net tore and the boats began to sink; here, with the Lord present, nothing gives way.
- Counted. They counted the haul to a single fish — all great ones, not one bad among them.
- Reach. Writers read the fish as the nations, gathered out of the sea. Commentators differ over whether 153 is itself a count of the nations.
Jesus says to them, Come [and] dine. But none of the disciples dared inquire of him, Who art thou? knowing that it was the Lord.
Peter and six others have gone back to fishing. They caught nothing all night, and then, at a stranger's word, pulled in a net full of fish. Now the risen Jesus calls them to a breakfast He has already made. They all know who He is, yet not one of them dares to say so.
Everything on that beach was ready before the disciples arrived. So who had laid it on? No one in the boats had a hand in it.
Now they were all on shore, and a sight met them that must have astonished them. There was a fire of coals, and fish laid on it, and bread. Who had kindled the fire and prepared the meal? … Who, then, had thought of their need and would supply it, but the Lord? Nothing had been forgotten that could meet their wants. All was provided, and provided by the Lord. He, too, as the host, invited them to eat and break their fast after their night on the lake. It was a morning meal, not an evening one.
He met them as He always had. He had thought about every part of their condition that morning.
They were cold. He knew it and had lit a fire. They were hungry. He knew it and had prepared fish and bread for their breakfast. They were awed at His presence, and perhaps ashamed at being caught at their old trade. He had called them away from that trade to follow Him fully. He knew it, so with gracious words He invited them to come near. And not only that: He took the bread and the fish and gave it to them. Yes, He was their servant still. His love, which went beyond all their thoughts, could not rest until their need was met.
Everything He had just done had already answered the question they held back — "Who are you?"
Who could it be but He? Who else could command the fish of the sea as He had done? The power of the Creator was His. And who else would have known their needs and provided for them so well, and spoken to them so graciously as He had done? The grace of the Lord was His. They could doubt no more. The way He showed Himself to them convinced them that He was the Lord who does not change.
Their silence was not indifference:
I think they would have liked to ask. At the same time they did not want to.
The fire of coals on the beach reached back to the night Peter denied his Master.
A striking thing on the shore there, that fire of coals! We find it only one other time in the Gospels: that well-remembered scene in the high priest's palace. How that fire must have spoken to Simon Peter! But the Lord says nothing. Their food is prepared there, and He simply says, "Come and dine." Peter dines with his Lord in the presence, so to speak, of his sin. Face to face with it, he is with his Lord as he had always been. No more than that? No — nearer than ever, with a deeper, tenderer gladness. He knows Him better and is fully known. Distance is impossible again!
Note: older translations read "Come and dine"; the ESV has "Come and have breakfast."
The order matters. Only when the meal is over does the Lord touch Peter's failure.
He sits with Peter, He dines with Peter. First his Lord makes Peter's spirit sure of full, free fellowship of heart with the One he loves. Only then does He turn to Peter's conscience and bring his ways back to his memory.
Some read this scene as a picture of a future harvest, and as a lesson to the men who had gone back to their nets.
Seen as a picture, we may find here disciples going out and bringing in a great harvest from the sea of nations, under the Lord's direction. That harvest will mark the opening of the millennial age. It was surely meant, too, as a lesson to Peter and the rest: going back to their ordinary work was unnecessary, even though He had blessed it. He had already prepared their food with His own hand. … The disciples knew it was their risen Lord. They knew Him not by the sight of their eyes, but by His actions, which no one else could have done.
- Recognised — They knew Him not by looking, but by what He did. Only He could command the fish and think of their hunger.
- Provided — The fire, the fish and the bread were all His before they landed. After an empty night, He gave them a meal they had no hand in making.
- Served — The risen Lord takes the host's place and hands them the food Himself, still the One who serves His own.
- Restored — The fire of coals recalls the night Peter denied Him. Yet he dines with his Lord, nearer than before, not further away.
- Sent — The meal comes first. Only then does the Lord turn to Peter's conscience, and to the harvest still waiting.
Jesus comes and takes the bread and gives it to them, and the fish in like manner.
The disciples had fished all night and caught nothing, and on shore they found a fire, fish and bread already waiting. The risen Christ handed them the food Himself — so had death and resurrection changed the way He treats His own?
The disciples brought nothing to this meal.
A fire to cook on, fish laid on it, and bread — nothing had been forgotten that could meet their needs. Everything was provided, and provided by the Lord. As the host He invited them to share it and break their fast after their night on the lake, for it was a morning meal, not an evening one. He Himself handed out to them both the fish and the bread. He prepared the meal, and He presided at it. The Lord of men and angels provided for people of no account among the great ones of the earth — humble fishermen from Galilee.
Even the fish they had just caught were not their own.
The Lord had said, "Bring some of the fish that you have just caught." The truth was that they had worked all night and caught nothing. So the fish they hauled ashore were His. At His word they cast the net; in that spot these fish were found. They could only bring to the morning banquet what He Himself had given them out of the sea.
Resurrection glory did not lift Him above waiting on tired men.
And more than that, the risen Lord of glory waits on His weary, disheartened disciples. As in the days of His flesh He was among them as One who served, so in the days of His resurrection glory He still serves His poor failing disciples. So we read, "Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish." Nothing that concerns His own is beneath His tender care and consideration.
That morning meal points forward to a greater one.
These sharers in the meal are the guests of the One who serves them during that never-to-be-forgotten meal. The meal is itself a foretaste of the joys of the coming feast. Then our Lord will make those servants whom He finds "watching" sit down to eat, and He will tie up His robe, come forward, and serve them.
Peter had last stood by a fire of coals while denying his Master. Here is another one — and no word about it.
A striking thing on the shore there, that fire of coals! The only other place we find it in the Gospels is in that other well-remembered scene in the high priest's palace. How that fire must have spoken to Simon Peter! But the Lord says nothing. He has their food ready there, and He simply says, "Come and have breakfast." Peter eats with his Lord in the presence, so to speak, of his sin. Face to face with it, he is with his Lord as he had always been. No more than that? No, nearer than ever!
The order matters. The searching question about love comes only after the meal.
He sits with Peter, He dines with Peter. First the Lord makes Peter's heart sure of full, free fellowship with the One he loves. Only then does He turn to Peter's conscience and remind him of his ways. Once Jesus calmed the sea before He rebuked the disciples. Now He gives Peter an unbroken net full of fish and dines with him before He asks, "Do you love me?"
The invitation (older translations render it "Come and dine") sets the tone of the whole meal.
"Jesus then comes, and takes bread, and gives them, and fish likewise." He is the Master of the feast. He is the Host. With His own particular grace He makes them eat. He puts all His guests completely at ease. Christ's way of meeting the soul is always perfect in tenderness and careful consideration. There is nothing lacking in it.
Commentators differ on how far this scene pictures things to come. One reading takes the unbroken net and the waiting fire as a preview of a coming day.
Here there is no breaking of the nets, no sinking of the boats. The net is drawn to land full of great fish, as suits the picture of that vast ingathering... And it has a bearing on that new day for the earth, that they found a fire of coals already there, and fish on it and bread. Those whom grace uses to bring in the nations on a great scale learn that the Lord has done a work before them. He invites them to enter into the fellowship of His love in that work, hidden until then. Eating, here as elsewhere, is the well-known figure of it.
- Need. A whole night of work produced nothing. They could not meet their own needs.
- Provision. The fire, the fish and the bread were all on the shore before they arrived — He prepared the meal and presided at it.
- Service. The One who served them before the cross serves them after it; nothing concerning His own is beneath His care.
- Restoration. Peter eats beside a fire of coals, face to face with his failure, and is nearer than ever. The question about love comes only afterwards.
- Prospect. This breakfast is a foretaste: He will yet tie up His robe, come forward, and serve those He finds watching.
This is already the third time that Jesus had been manifested to the disciples, being risen from among [the] dead.
John's Gospel pauses the meal by the lake to add a count: this was the third showing of the risen Lord to His disciples. That raises two questions. Why only three? And why count the appearances at all?
The count does real work in the Gospel. It keeps the lakeside scene from standing alone as a later addition.
We cannot fairly separate the appearing of Jesus at the lake of Tiberias from the two earlier scenes. It completes them, and verse 14 lets us say so with confidence. So it is quite wrong to call John 21 an appendix. It is more wrong still to guess that someone wrote it long after the rest of the Gospel.
Across all four Gospels, the risen Lord had appeared more often than three times. One writer counts them:
It is said to be the third time, but historically it is undoubtedly the seventh time. He was seen five times on the resurrection day, the Lord's Day. First by Mary Magdalene. Then by her Galilean friends. Then by Peter. Then by the two who went to Emmaus. And then by the company in the room at Jerusalem, "the eleven and those who were with them" — which of course takes the company out of a merely apostolic category. Many disciples were gathered with the apostles on that occasion, and Thomas was not with them. That was the fifth time. The next Lord's Day the Lord appeared again, and Thomas was then with them. And now we have come to the seventh time historically.
So three is not a headcount of every meeting. It marks one kind of appearing: to the gathered company.
He had seen them many times. But as to this kind of definite, public, positive showing of Himself, the first time was on the Lord's day (chapter 20:19). The second was when Thomas was there eight days later, in verse 26. The third is in the last chapter, picturing the remnant at the end. Calling this the "third time" is proof that the third time carries a specific figurative character.
Because the three are numbered as a set, several writers read them as three stages of blessing. In what follows, "the remnant" means the believing part of Israel.
Verses 1-14 show what follows the return of Jesus, the third time He shows Himself. The first time is the day of His resurrection. The second time is a week later, when Thomas was there. These two occasions present the remnant become the church, and the remnant at the end. Here, in this chapter, it is what is called the millennium… In figure it was first for Christians, then for the Jewish remnant, and finally for the Gentile world.
Another writer reads the same three showings by what each one gave:
At the first, as we saw, He met the brothers to give them, as the heavenly family, their fellowship and ministry. At the second, He restored Thomas, the representative of Israel's final conversion and life. And now, at the third, He gives the pledge of Israel's ministry and fruitfulness to God.
Commentators differ over what each showing pictures. They agree the three belong together as one series.
ESV says Jesus "was revealed"; the writers quoted here say He "showed Himself." The showing had a purpose, and it reached past the men at the lake.
Notice the emphasis on this showing of Himself… He showed Himself to His disciples to confirm and strengthen them for all they would have to face for His sake in a hostile world. But the record of it is for us as well, so that we might contemplate Him, have our hearts moved, and have our faith confirmed by what we see.
The verse names who saw Him: "the disciples." One writer asks what a made-up story would have looked like instead.
When our Lord rose from the dead, suppose He had appeared at once to Pilate, Herod, the chief priests and the people of Jerusalem. That would have been very convincing. In that case no one could have denied the evidence for His resurrection. If uninspired writers had written the account, that is the likely story they would have given. Instead, after He rose our Lord appeared only to His own disciples, to those who loved Him, and not to the world.
- Counted — John counts the public showings to the gathered company. Across all the Gospels this was the seventh appearing, and five of those fell on the resurrection day.
- Connected — the count ties chapter 21 to the two earlier scenes. It completes them, so it is no appendix.
- Charged with meaning — the numbering is deliberate. Commentators read the three showings as one figurative sequence, running from the present to the age to come.
- Confirming — He showed Himself to steady His own before they faced a hostile world. The record of it lets later readers look at Him too.
- Chosen witnesses — He appeared to those who loved Him, not to rulers and crowds. Invented testimony would not read like that.