Week 2 | The God of the Second Chance | Restoration of Peter
Preaching is a very nervous thing for me. Not only am I handling the word of God and James says that I’ll fall under greater judgment— so that’s a big deal. But every word I say is broadcasted online. and there are whole channels who just find worship and preaching fails. And I’m telling you, they are hilarious.
I heard a story one time of a speaker at a conference who was the main speaker for the night. And the worship team had just led the room in a powerful time of worship and hearts were warm and ready to receive the word— and feeling energized the pastor got up and tried to say “I have hope in soul” but instead what he blurted out was “I have soap in my _______” Yup. What you could just imagine what he said there. And the whole place erupted in laughter and every time he got up to speak, everyone just laughed again. And he had to eventually just sit down because they couldn’t recover.
So that’s in part why i work with a manuscript to keep from saying those kinds of things. But last week, in quoting Ps 103 which says “for he knows how we are formed, he remembers that we are dust.” — I was working with an older version in my head. And i kept saying “we are but dust”. Which, you gotta be really careful if you put a wrong emphasis or pause in the wrong spot there….. My children were quick to inform me of my blunder. We are but dust. We are nothing if we can’t laugh at ourselves amen?
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You guys remember the first time you watched the Lion King? I was 14 years old. Some of you grew up with this movie like me, And I’m sorry if you haven’t seen it yet, because I’m gonna spoil it for you… but i mean… it’s been a minute and if you haven’t seen it— thats on you.
At the beginning of the movie the head strong simba disobeys his dad and he wanders off. Things spiral and a stampede comes through the canyon, and in the chaos, Mufasa is killed.
I still remember sitting in the theater for the first time, and watching a little boy a few rows in front of me turn and look to his dad and ask “why isn’t he getting up?” And i remember thinking “Okay Disney… that’ just cruel.”
But what sticks with me even more than Mufasas death is Simba’s response afterwards. Because there were all sorts of larger forces at play in that moment: And yet Simba was destroyed by the weight of being a part of that chaos. He knew that he had disobeyed his father and when that reality lands on him and all the shame and all the guilt pile on— what does he do? He runs. He leaves his name and his family and his calling and a world that desperately needs him behind.
Now to be fair- he doesn’t become the world’s worst lion. He doesn’t enter the seedy underbelly of the Savanah dealing drugs to giraffes or anything. He finds some little buddies- Hakuna Matata and all that. So it’s not a terrible life— but it’s a small life. And he’s miles from who we was meant to be.
Being in ministry for approaching 25 years now- I see that story play out all the time. People who were walking with God, engaged, alive, following—and then something happened. A failure. A season. A decision they knew better than to make. And they didn’t become monsters. They didn’t turn into villains. They just… moved off to the side. “I’m not the worst person you’ve ever met,” they’ll say. “I’m just over here now.”
So in my world it was growing up going to momentum youth conference— kind of like church camp— where thursday night was the night everyone got saved. A couple days of no sleep, malnutrition, emotionally volatile teenagers—The band gets our emotions stirred up, the speaker gets us all riled up, people are crying and singing Friends Are Friends Forever.
And right at the emotional peak, One by one, people get up and make huge promises to God. “I just want everyone to know, I’m never going to sin again.” We’re like, man, bold strategy. “I’m going to tell everyone in the world about Jesus.”
And here’s the thing—there wasn’t a one of us who hadn’t broken every promise two weeks later. And we’re back in our bedrooms, surrounded by the same addictions, the same habits, the same patterns, asking, “What’s wrong with me?”
And something shifts inside us. “I guess this whole walk with Jesus is true for some people… just not somebody like me.” So we don’t burn the house down. We don’t become the worst person you’ve ever met. We just quietly relocate.
And that brings us to the question underneath all of this; does God give us second chances? Last week it was kinda easy — looking at this woman who had hit rock bottom. And so we see that kind of story and God’s grace kinda makes sense. I get grace for the degenerate hot mess. But what about how God thinks of when I actually knew better? When I can’t claim ignorance. I knew better than to watch the porn. I knew better than to take that thing that wasn’t mine. I grew up in church, I knew all the verse— and I still had my 20’s when the slow fade took me further and further from any kind of real practicing faith. So how does God’s grace deal with people like that?
And that’s why today matters. Because today we’re going to look at one of the most public failures—and one of the most profound restorations—in the entire Bible. And right at the center of it is a guy named Peter. And here’s the bottom line for this story:
People reduce you to your failure. Jesus reminds you of your future.
So today I want to take you to one of the most public failures—and one of the most profound restorations—in the entire Bible. And right at the center of it is a guy named Peter.
If you’ve been around church at all, you know Peter. Wild Peter. All heart, half a brain. Ready–fire–aim kind of guy. Ask questions later. He’s impulsive, passionate, emotional, and absolutely convinced he’s right.
•Peter’s the one who, when Jesus asks the disciples, “Who do you say that I am?” has the courage to speak up and say, “You are the Christ, the Son of the living God.” That’s Peter.
•Peter’s the one who sees Jesus walking on water and says, “If that’s really you, tell me to come,” and then actually steps out of the boat. He’s also the one who sinks five seconds later. Courageous faith, fragile follow-through.
•On the night Jesus is arrested, when soldiers come to take Him away, Peter is the guy who pulls out a fishing knife and tries to go ninja on them. He takes a swing, misses the guy’s head entirely, and chops off his ear. All courage. Terrible aim. That’s Peter.
He’s simply an amazing character in the bible. Truthfully, He’s one of those people I would want to be. But a part of Peters story is a colossal failure and betrayal.
Jesus saw it coming. On the very same night that Peter cuts off the dudes ear— Jesus told him “Peter, you’re gonna fall away from me…. you’re gonna turn your back on me.”
And Peter confidently tells him
Matthew 26:33-35
33 Peter replied, “Even if all fall away on account of you, I never will.”
34 “Truly I tell you,” Jesus answered, “this very night, before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”
35 But Peter declared, “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” And all the other disciples said the same.
And so what happens? Jesus gets arrested, He stands on trial and is facing charges that could lead to his death.
Matthew records it this way:
Matthew 26:69-74
69 Now Peter was sitting out in the courtyard,
and a servant girl came to him. “You also were with Jesus of Galilee,” she said.
70 But he denied it before them all. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.
71 Then he went out to the gateway, where another servant girl saw him and said to the people there, “This fellow was with Jesus of Nazareth.”
72 He denied it again, with an oath: “I don’t know the man!”
73 After a little while, those standing there went up to Peter and said, “Surely you are one of them; your accent gives you away.”
74 Then he began to call down curses, and he swore to them, “I don’t know the man!”
Immediately a rooster crowed.
Luke tells us that Jesus turned and looked at Peter.
75 Then Peter remembered the word Jesus had spoken: “Before the rooster crows, you will disown me three times.”
You could just imagine how Jesus’ soul was torn in two by his best friend that betrayed him.
And he went outside and wept bitterly.
His soul collapsed. This is the moment when Peter realizes he’s not who he thought he was. He had claimed this unstoppable steadfast faithfulness…. but when the pressure came…. he folded.
Yes he betrayed his friend and the messiah. But his core understanding of himself changed in that moment as well.
Have you ever had that happen to you? You thought you were better than that. You fully intended to be better than that? But when it came down to it— you failed? It’s a pretty gnarly feeling.
And here’s what’s important. Peter didn’t fail because he didn’t know any better. He failed knowing exactly who Jesus was. And Peter could have lived the rest of his life defined by that night.
But Jesus wasn’t done. Turn with me to John 21 (Page 742). As your turning there… spoiler alert, Jesus is condemned and crucified and then resurrected from the dead.
Jesus has already appeared to the disciples a couple of times so Peter knows that Jesus is alive.
John 21
Afterward Jesus appeared again to his disciples, by the Sea of Galilee. b It happened this way: 2 Simon Peter, Thomas (also known as Didymus), Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two other disciples were together. 3 “I’m going out to fish,” Simon Peter told them,
Now that doesn’t sound dramatic unless you remember—This wasn’t a pastime for Peter- it was his profession and identity: This is Peter saying, “I’m going back to what I know. The family business I’m stepping away from what I was called to.”
And He’s not saying, “I’m done forever cause I just I don’t believe anymore.” He’s just saying, “I’m not going to be the worst guy you’ve ever met—but I’m going to be over here.” A lot of us are like peter.
Because Peter doesn’t curl up into a pity party. He does is what a lot of us do when we don’t know how to deal with what’s going on inside. He gets busy. He goes back to work. He does the thing he knows how to do.
And I meet a lot of people who use busyness the same way. The way they wall off the shame from bad choices they’ve made—or from tragic things that happened to them—is they just stay moving. They pinball between work and distraction.
I’ll just throw myself into something I feel like I can win at. Let me prove I’m still somebody. Let me silence the voice in my head—the one that sounds like my mom, or my dad, or my past—telling me I blew it. And when work isn’t enough, let me distract myself so I don’t have to sit with what hurts.
So we bounce back and forth between busyness and distraction, hoping it keeps the shame quiet. And in this moment, Peter looks at his life and says, “I don’t know how to deal with all of this.” So he does what he knows. He goes fishing.
And John tells us something subtle but important. When Peter says, “I’m going fishing,” the other disciples say,
and they said, “We’ll go with you.”
This tells us something about Peter; that he’s a leader. John Maxwell says that Leadership is influence. And you have influence – which means whether you realize it or not- you’re leading people somewhere.
None of us drift alone. None of us sin in isolation. Our lives carry weight. Our choices influence people.
We will talk to people all the time who say, “It’s just my life. It’s just my decision.” No—it’s not. Because there are always people watching. There are kids, cousins, nieces, nephews, younger brothers and sisters, coworkers, friends—people who look at the direction you move and take their cues from it.
The disciples see Peter
and they said, “We’ll go with you.”
And I love what it says next:
So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing.
That’s God’s doing. That’s God messing with his kids. That’s what he does— he chases them down.
And some of you are wondering, “How would I know if God is coming after me?” Let me give you one of the clearest signs. Often, He starts by complicating things. The way you’re living your life stops working. You keep hitting walls and you can’t quite explain why.
That’s not God’s cruely— that’s his kindness leading us.
That’s what’s happening here. They caught nothing. That’s God setting the stage to grab Peter’s attention in the most meaningful and personal way possible. Not to punish him— but to take him back and then to move him forward.
4 Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not realize that it was Jesus.
So the question is, how do they not recognize Him?
•Is He too far away? The text tells us later He’s only about a hundred yards off.
•Is it disbelief? Like, I saw Him die—there’s no way this is Him. Maybe.
But I’ll tell you what I think is happening here, and I think the Bible actually supports it. I think they don’t recognize Him because Jesus has a sense of humor. And you see it all throughout His resurrection appearances. Because Jesus is constantly messing with people.
•One chapter earlier- Mary goes to anoint Jesus’ dead body – and she shows up and stone is rolled away and the body is gone. So she starts crying.
Jesus appears to mary And John tells us that Mary thought Jesus was a gardener? Why? Cause maybe he was messing with the bushes or something… and he let’s it ride for second before he’s like “hey… Mary… it’s me”.
•Luke tells us that two of the disciples were walking from Jerusalem to Emmaus for seven miles. And it says that Jesus walked and talked with them— again incognito. And then they eat together and he waits right until the prayer moment when he’s breaking bread and he’s like “tada!! it’s me!”… and then he disappears like batman. Read the text.
And then they run the seven miles back to Jerusalem freaking out and telling the rest of the disciples they saw Jesus then he disappeared— and WHILE THEY ARE EXPLAINING THIS – Jesus just appears. He doesn’t go through the locked door— he just appears. And they lose their minds thinking he’s a ghost.
Jesus just says “peace be with you…. you guys got any fish?”
Scholars call this an internal proof of Scripture—one of those details that tells you the story wasn’t manufactured. Because nobody would make this up. If you were inventing a resurrection story, you’d make it majestic. You’d make it dramatic. You wouldn’t make the risen Savior mess with people, walk seven miles incognito, pretend to leave dinner, or show up saying, “Anybody got fish?” And yet that’s exactly how He comes.
So Jesus is standing there on the shore and
5 He called out to them, “Friends,
The word Jesus is the diminutive masculine form. He calls them little boys.
“Friends, haven’t you any fish?”
And the way he asks assumes a negative answer. It’s like he’s saying “The way you’re living your life, it’s not really working, is it?”
“Friends, haven’t you any fish?” “No,” they answered.
6 He said, “Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some.” When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish.
If this feels familiar, it should. Because this isn’t the first time Jesus does this miracle. The first time was on the day he first met Peter and when he asked Peter to follow him.
Luke chapter 5 tells us that story. Peter has fished all night and caught nothing. He’s exhausted, frustrated, and done. Jesus tells him to try again– Peter thinks it’s a bad idea but just says “Master, because you asked…”
And when Peter puts his nets back out, He had so many fish that the nets began to break. He can’t haul them all in. And in that moment, it hits Peter—God just stepped into my boat. He drops to his knees and says, “Get away from me, Lord. I am not a good person.”
And Jesus responds with an invitation to trust him and to follow him. And that if he’ll do that— his life will have more meaning and purpose that he could ever imagine. Jesus will take him from being someone lost in his brokenness to being God’s instrument to influence the world around him and rescue the lost.
Now don’t miss what Jesus is doing here in John 21. At the moment of Peter’s greatest failure, Jesus recreates the miracle He first used to call Peter.
How does God respond to Peter’s failure? He doesn’t shame him. He doesn’t dismiss him. He recreates the moment of calling to send a message: the relationship is still open. Peter I’m not gonna reduce to your failure, I’m gonna remind you of your future. Peter, you are not too far gone.
And friend, neither are you.
That’s why John looks at Peter in that moment and says, “It’s the Lord.”
7 Then the disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!”
This isn’t Nathanael’s fig tree. It’s not Matthew’s tax booth. This is Peter’s miracle. This is personal. Jesus is calling him in a way peter can understand. Gentle, playful and kind. He recreates the miracle to send you the message that the door is still open.
How does Peter respond? Peter does something I’m hoping many of you will do today. He stops running away from God and starts moving towards him.
As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, “It is the Lord,” he wrapped his outer garment around him (for he had taken it off) and jumped into the water.
No more walling off the shame and busyness or distraction. I’m moving towards him, not away from him.
Was it pretty? No,It’s not a dive. It’s flailing his body off the boat. I picture it like forest gump jumping off the shrimp boat to get to Lieutenant Dan. It’s a mess because he’s a mess.
And some of you are here thinking, I’m far from God, but I don’t even know what to say. I don’t know how this is supposed to look. And the good news is— It doesn’t have to be polished. It just has to be honest.
8 The other disciples followed in the boat, towing the net full of fish, for they were not far from shore, about a hundred yards. 9 When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals there with fish on it, and some bread. (I want you to remember that it’s a charcoal fire)
SKIP AHEAD
12 Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.”
So what does God do with you when you fail? Does He yell and call you names and shout you down? No. He’s gentle. He’s kind. He cooks them breakfast.
And there’s a reason for that. You eat breakfast with people you like. You don’t share a meal with someone you’re done with. You don’t cook for someone you’re rejecting.
Jesus sits him down by a charcoal fire. And that detail matters. Fires show up all over the Bible. People are always starting fires. But a charcoal fire—that’s specific. That word only shows up two places in all of Scripture. It shows up here. And it shows up the night Peter denied even knowing Jesus.
Jesus is recreating the moment. First, the moment of connection—I still want you. The relationship isn’t broken.
But then He recreates the moment of Peter’s greatest failure and says, We have to deal with this. Not to shame you. Not to crush you. But to restore what’s been broken.
SKIP ahead
15 When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John,
Now Jesus never calls him that… but he says his full name. Like if my mom ever called me Scott Benjamin… it meant she was trying to get my attention.
“Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?”
When Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love Me more than these?” scholars have debated for years what these refers to.
•Some think Jesus is pointing at the other disciples. Because on the night Jesus was betrayed, Peter had boldly said, “Even if all these other guys fall away, I never will.” So in that sense, Jesus could be asking, Peter, do you still think you’re stronger than everyone else? Do you still believe you can follow Me on your own strength?
•Others think these refers to the fish. And the grammar allows for that too. In that case, Jesus would be asking, Peter, do you love Me more than this life you’ve gone back to?
I think the real question is the one behind it: Peter, will you still follow Me knowing who you are now?
“Yes, Lord,” he said, “you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my lambs.”
16 Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”
He answered, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Take care of my sheep.”
17 The third time he said to him, “Simon son of John, do you love me?”
Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me?” He said, “Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you.” Jesus said, “Feed my sheep.
Now, for years I thought Jesus was being cruel here. I thought He was rubbing Peter’s face in his failure. Three denials. Three questions. Like, You love me, Peter? Because it didn’t look like it a couple nights ago.
That’s how I used to imagine God responding to failure. But I don’t think that’s what’s happening here at all.
If Jesus wanted to shame Peter, He would’ve pointed backward. He would’ve said, “Do you remember what you did?” But instead, every question points forward.
Do you love me? Then feed my sheep. In other words, Peter, I’m not reopening the wound to hurt you—I’m reopening it to heal you. Because if this doesn’t get healed, it will define you forever.
Think about it. If Jesus doesn’t deal with this moment, every rooster crow Peter hears for the rest of his life becomes a reminder of shame. Every moment of leadership becomes haunted by that night. And Jesus loves Peter too much to let that happen. So He recreates the failure—not to condemn him—but to replace it.
And here’s what’s stunning to me. Jesus doesn’t say, “Okay Peter, let’s put you on the bench for a while.” He doesn’t say, “Let’s see how you do over the next few years.” He immediately hands him responsibility.
People reduce you to your failure. Jesus redeems and reminds you of your future.
Feed my sheep. The very place Peter failed—love—becomes the place he’s entrusted.
He looks at Peter and asks, “Do you love Me?”
“Yes, Lord, You know that I love You.”
“I know,” Jesus says. So let’s move forward.
“Peter, do you love Me?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“I know. Let’s move forward.*
“Peter, do you love Me?”
“Yes, Lord.”
“I know. Now let’s move on.*
Jesus is saying, Don’t let the failures of your past determine the direction of your future. We’re going to deal with the wound—and then we’re going to move forward.
And for some of you, dealing with the wound will be a process. It usually is. It happens in moments like this—around a fire, in safe places, with trusted people. It might be with a counselor. It might be with a close friend. It might be this morning, quietly, honestly, between you and God.
But wounds don’t heal by pretending they’re not there. They heal when they’re brought into the light.
Jesus says why this matters that Peter gets back on the bike. He says “feed my sheep”.
Sheep are not impressive animals. — they are nature’s victims.
And Jesus looks at Peter and says, Lift your eyes. Look at the world. Look at how dangerous it is. Look at how confusing it is. Look at our schools. Look at our kids. Look at the anxiety, the pressure, the fear. They don’t have what it takes inside themselves to survive this world on their own.
“So feed them,” Jesus says. Take care of them.
“Don’t get so wrapped up in your past that you become a self–focused victim and stop helping the very people I came to save.”
“Yes, Peter, what you did was real. It was public. It was painful. But My grace is sufficient for you. Let’s heal the wound—and let’s move on—because I want you to feed My sheep.*
And that’s His call to you, too. You are not too far gone.
Johnny Cash had a great career but became hooked on drugs and amphetamines. You can read in his autobiography, he’s got a whole chapter dedicated to all the cars he wrecked while he was on drugs.
One of them started a forest fire, almost wiped out an endangered species, a condor. I mean He torpedoed his family and friends and career. His whole life went up in flames.
Eventually, Johnny decided he was done. He found a cave, grabbed a flashlight, and told himself, “I’m going to crawl as deep as I can until the batteries die—and then I’m gone. That would be the end of Johnny Cash.”
He crawled into that cave. The light went out. He curled up in the dark and thought, This is it.
And then something unexpected happened. In the moment of his deepest shame, he said he felt God come closer than ever before and say “Get up.”
He didn’t know how to get out. It was too dark to see a way forward. But he started moving anyway. And slowly, light appeared. When he reached the mouth of the cave, two friends were waiting. They took him to the hospital. And that’s where recovery began.
And the rest of his life became a testimony—not of perfection, but of grace. He spent his later years singing about redemption, about Jesus, about a God who saves broken people. Even now you can get an audio book of Johnny Cash reading the bible.
That’s what shame will do with you. You’ll draw inward until you shrivel up and disappear. But Grace calls you forward.
Jesus invites Peter to get back on the bike. — and follow me.
(So much of what the devil tries to do is tell us how worthless we are so that we just stay down. So much of the Christian life is walking in what Jesus says about us and not what the devil says about us)
And then John tells us that jesus talks with Peter about his future——that one day his life, and even his death, will glorify God. And that matters, because every one of us will die. But not every life brings glory. Peter’s will—not because he was flawless, but because he trusted Jesus to heal him and lead him.
And then Peter does what we all do. He looks over his shoulder at John and says, “What about him?” And Jesus says, That’s not your concern. I’m talking to you. You follow Me.
Not your boyfriend. Not your coworkers. Not your friends. You.
You follow Me—and watch what I can do with a human life that trusts Me.
Listen, I don’t know your story. I don’t know how far you may feel from God. Maybe it’s been a lifetime since your faith has felt alive. Maybe it’s just been a really hard week. Maybe you’ve simply promised yourself again that you wouldn’t scream at your kids again… and then you did…. again.
I don’t know your story, but I do know this: you’re not too far gone. Because God is gracious and compassionate. He is gentle and kind and he looks at people stuck in their failure and says “the relationship is still open for you.”.
And for anyone thinking, That sounds great, but you don’t know what I’ve done—let me be clear. Jesus didn’t dismiss Peter’s sin. He paid for it.
Jesus can say “Follow Me” because He already carried the weight of Peter’s failure into the grave—and walked out alive.
“I know what you did,” Jesus says. And I paid for it.
“I know what had power over you,” and I buried it.
“And I rose to tell you—you’re forgiven. Now come with Me.*
That’s the invitation. For Peter. And for you.