The Restoration
John 21:1-19
(The Last Sermon)

How many of you have ever eaten a bowl of Wheaties? The legend behind this famous cereal’s creation began with bran gruel, which a clumsy dietician at the Washburn Crosby Company was preparing in 1922 when he spilled some on a hot stovetop.

The gruel drops sizzled and crackled into flakes. Once he tasted a flake, the cook realized his accident had created something that tasted way better than the gruel. He got the head honchos at Washburn on board, and they tried 36 different varieties of the creation before developing the perfect flake that wouldn’t crumble in the box.

Even the name could have gone another way. The cereal was released as Washburn’s Gold Medal Whole Wheat Flakes. Doesn’t exactly roll off your tongue. The company decided to hold a contest and asked employees to create better names. The finalists were Nukeys and Gold Medal Wheat Flakes. They finally settled on Wheaties.

As part of the rollout ad campaign, they put a picture of Lou Gehrig on the front of the box along with the byline, ‘The Breakfast of Champions.’ As a kid, I ate my fair share to be a champion.

Clearly, there is something wrong with the cereal.

Who would have known 93 years ago that so many gold-medal winners would eventually don the box of that glorified gruel?

Psychologists and sociologists have studied why Wheaties enjoy such a long shelf life. They concluded that it taps into a deep-seated propensity in American culture to be connected with a champion, a winner.

Wheaties are what we like to eat because they are what we want to be.

In the story before us, we see Jesus preparing a breakfast for His disciples, not as the champions they wished they were, but for the failures that they turned out to be. And as we sit with this old story, I imagine that, if we were honest, we would have to admit that Jesus could easily have prepared that breakfast beside that sea for each of us in our failures, too.

So, I want to invite you to stand with me on the shores of the Sea of Galilee as we watch Jesus prepare a breakfast for failures.

What do you do when you’ve failed a friend? After you’ve cried till you’re numb. After you’ve replayed the failure over and over in your mind. After you’ve run yourself down and can’t think of any more names to call yourself. What do you do then?

You find some way to hold back the pain?

“I’m going fishing.”

That’s Peter’s way of dealing with the pain. He’s tired of thinking. He’s tired of the incriminating conversations he’s had with himself. He wants a mindless diversion, an escape.
By any standard of measurement, these followers have failed. They didn’t stand with Jesus in his darkest hour. They ran away like insects scurrying to hide when the light was turned on in the middle of the night.

And because Peter promised to do something heroic but ended up doing something worse, he has been designated a failure of failures.

They are returning to what they do best. They’ve given up on being apprentices of Jesus. Their lives have come unraveled, and they are going home.

And it is in the nadir of their failure that Jesus comes to them. Jesus does the same for us. He comes to us when we are flailing and failing, when we’ve thrown our hands in the air in exasperation, when we have given up hope.

Wet and shivering, Peter reaches the shore. His eyes look down at the warm charcoal fire. He had seen that fire before. A similar fire had warmed him on the night of his denial. Just a few weeks earlier, they had shared the warmth of that fire under different circumstances.

After Jesus had been arrested two chapters earlier and dragged from one kangaroo court to another, Peter followed in the shadows to see what would happen. At one point, he is chilled by the cold morning air and…

John 18:18 says, Now the slaves and the police had made a charcoal fire because it was cold, and they were standing around it and warming themselves. Peter also was standing with them and warming himself.

And as the riff raff and hangers-on jostle in the courtyard of the trial, those standing close said to Peter, “Didn’t I see you with Jesus?” And three times, with escalating fear, rage, and vehemence, Peter denied that he knew Jesus at all. Peter denies Jesus around a fire. That was the last time their eyes met.

And yet here, a few weeks later, they are together again around a small charcoal fire. His approach is suddenly tentative and uncertain. He agonizes over that night as he presses his palms toward the heat. He yearns to talk, but his chattering teeth bite his words short.

Maybe Peter remembers that a similar fishing miracle occurred once before, close to this very spot on the Sea of Galilee.

This story is found in Luke 5, where Jesus had just finished using Peter’s boat as a pulpit. After his sermon, he tells Peter and the others to push off from shore and try again to catch some fish. They had tried all night and had come up empty, but they did what the teaching carpenter from Nazareth commanded.

And suddenly they have more fish than they can handle. Peter has to call out to the other boats to help with the catch of a lifetime. And as their arms burn with fatigue and hands chaff with the fish-full nets, Peter comes face-to-face with the realization that the carpenter from Nazareth is unlike any other preacher he had ever heard.

Luke 5:8 says, Peter fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!”

But this time, after Peter witnesses this miraculous catch, instead of running away from Jesus, he runs towards Jesus as fast as he can, despite his horrible failure of denial. Despite the guilt and the shame of letting his best friend down, Peter runs to Jesus.

Why the change? What happened between those two catches of fish on this lake?

The cross and the resurrection happened.

At the empty tomb that first easter morning, an angel told Mary Magdalene, Go, tell his disciples and Peter that he is going ahead of you to Galilee; there you will see him, just as he told you. Mark 16:7

At the cross, God dealt once and for all with Peter’s failures and ALL our failures. And because of the empty tomb of Jesus, where God opened a hole in the fabric of heaven to let hope flood into this dark world, to douse unsuspecting losers like Peter, and like you and me, with grace and mercy.

Peter runs TO Jesus in his failure instead of running AWAY FROM Jesus in his failure.

He can make the journey towards healing and restoration instead of running away. And so can you because of the cross and the empty tomb of Jesus.

This story invites us to move towards God in our failures. I know from personal experience that it is a hard pill to swallow.

Now, I’d like to invite my wife to share with you how she experienced the restorative power of Jesus’ presence.

Lynette’s Story

Until 1999, I had an uneventful life. I was married to a pastor with three rambunctious boys. I lived in Denver, where I grew up, with my immediate family nearby. Life was pretty sweet.
However, in the fall of 1999, because of my husband’s sinful choices, my marriage was in crisis, and he resigned from his church.

Heartbroken and confused, I asked God what I should do. I asked, “Lord, should I forgive him? Should we stay married?” My heart was filled with such mixed emotions! I wanted to work on our marriage, but at the same time, I was so hurt that I didn’t want to be with him.

At that time, I experienced the verse in Psalms that says, “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

I heard God tell me, “Whether you leave him or forgive him, I will be with you and bless you.” I contemplated my choices, but I decided against bitterness and chose instead to forgive and work toward restoration.

We moved to Washington in November of that year. My brother-in-law’s little church in Sumner, WA, opened its arms and hearts to us. They used the money they raised to build a new building and covered the costs of our move and counseling for a year. They raised more money to pay for our oldest son to attend a Christian high school. They gave Joe a job tearing down a condemned house next door to the church for $10.00 an hour.

They loved us back to life as a couple and family. It was a tough year, yet God was faithful in restoring our marriage and mending our family.

When our three sons turned thirteen, Joe shared his story with them and asked them to forgive him. They each responded in their unique ways, all very forgiving. I want to share with you how one of our sons responded.

Joe took our youngest son, Caleb, backpacking and told him his story of failure and repentance in the wilderness.

When they returned, I was getting ready for them when I heard them drive up and enter the front door. Caleb came into the bathroom, where I was curling my hair, and said, “Mom, I need to tell you something.”

“Okay,” I said. Continuing to curl my hair.

“Mom put the curling iron down and look at me,” Caleb insisted.

I put the curling iron down and turned to him.

“Mom, I just wanted to say thank you for forgiving Dad and saving our family.”

I felt the presence of God in that moment. God was with me.

And Caleb, too.

Our lives from that point were never the same. God gave me a husband and a relationship that was unlike anything we had in the 20 years prior. This December, we will celebrate 44 years together. Our oldest son married the girl he met in that little church in Sumner when he was just 14, and now we have four beautiful red-headed grandchildren who are all with us today. Caleb and his wife, Mindy, have a little girl, Cora Lee, who is now 5 years old, and the delight of our lives.

After seven years away from ministry, God allowed Joe to return to serving the Church. God led us to a small church plant in Mukilteo, Washington, as executive pastor.

Little did we know that within a year, the lead pastor would resign and move on to another church, and this church would ask my husband to be its next pastor. We had a wonderful ministry in Washington, and then God called us to make another move—this time back to our home state of Colorado and our wonderful congregation at Mountain Heights.

Throughout our journey, I have come to understand that God is a God of restoration, faithfulness, and grace.

Like Peter, I’ve learned the best place to be when you are hurt, confused, and scared is as close to Jesus as possible.

I know that he can use what we mess up for his good.

I want to express my gratitude for being an extension of the restoration work in our lives and for enabling us to do the ministry we have through our Sacred Journey Soul Care Retreats. You have supported us in many ways, from praying for us to delivering meals and desserts to providing housing for our participants.

You have loved us well over the last 10 years. Joe has said on numerous occasions that serving Mountain Heights has been the best years of his ministry.

So, thank you for giving us the privilege of loving you and serving here.

I love you all very much.

****

Here is a question: Is God beautiful or terrifying to you in your failures?

How you answer that question will reveal how deeply you understand the Gospel of grace. God wants to meet us in our failures—that is his specialty.

Jesus shows us a God who will meet us where we are and fix our failures. As the sun dawns on that sea and the disciples warm themselves by the fire, Jesus probes a recent wound in Peter’s heart.

Verse 15 says, So when they had eaten breakfast, Jesus said to Simon Peter, ‘Simon, do you love Me more than these?”

Can you imagine being Simon? Your failure is known by everyone sitting around that fire. You didn’t blow it once, but three times. They all know that. They might have forsaken him, but they never denied him.

Then He calls your name, singles you out, and asks you a comparative question: “Simon, do you love Me more than these?”

What Jesus says is remarkable. But what he doesn’t say is even more remarkable.

He doesn’t say:

• Some friend you turned out to be.
• I’m disappointed in you.
• You let me down.
• You’re all talk.
• You are a coward.
• Boy, was I ever wrong about you!
• And you call yourself a disciple?”

Instead, he asks, “Do you love me?” He asks three times, once for each denial. Not to rub it in, but to allow Peter to confess his love openly. Something Peter desperately needs to verbalize. By the third time Jesus asks him, Peter connects the dots, and a flame leaps from that smoldering memory.

And it burns.

However, Jesus is not there to inflict pain but to relieve it. Jesus had seen his bitter tears when the rooster crowed. That was all he needed to see. That was repentance enough. Peter looks up, longing for the faintest glimmer of forgiveness. And by the smile in Jesus’ eyes and the tone of His voice, Peter knows all is forgiven.

“Jesus said to him, ‘Feed My sheep.”

This was Jesus saying, “I still believe in you. You are my beloved. I think you’re the right man for the job.”

That is when Peter received the restoration of the Lord. The ministry of restoration has been around for a long time.

• Moses would have been a shepherd for the rest of his life without restoration.
• Elijah would still be pouting under a broom tree without restoration.
• David would never have written some of his best Psalms without restoration.
• Jonah would have been fish poop on the bottom of the Sea without restoration.
• And Peter would have finished his days fishing for fish without restoration.

The ministry of restoration is why we are still here on earth. Our call is to bring ‘up there down here’ until nothing is broken and nothing is missing.

This intimate moment proved to be a turning point in Peter’s life. Within seven weeks, he would preach the boldest sermon of his life. It would be in Jerusalem, the bastion of hatred against Jesus. Three thousand would be saved. They would form the nucleus of the church he would establish there.

Later, he would stand before Caiaphas himself and the entire ruling council that had conspired against Christ. He would confront them in a bold confession of his Savior. And he would preach about his crucified Lord, shaking the foundations of the temple and sending a tremor to rock even the mighty pillars of the Roman Empire.

Finally, as Jesus said, he would be crucified. Eusebius tells us that when they were putting Peter on the cross, he asked to be crucified upside down, for he didn’t feel worthy to die in the same manner as his Lord had.

What kind of friend inspires devotion like that?

A friend like no other.
A friend who prayed for him when he was weak.
A friend who picked him up when he was down.
A friend who forgave him when he failed.
A friend who pursued Peter, the failure of failures.
A friend who healed a painful memory.
A friend who loved him.
A friend who believed in him.
A friend who sticks closer than a brother.
A friend like Jesus.
A friend who died for him.

An old hymn we used to sing in the church I grew up in,

What a friend we have in Jesus,
all our sins and griefs to bear!

And so, Mountain Heights, may you ever share the good news about a Savior who wants to prepare breakfast for failures until no one is broken, and no one is missing.