The Gospel of John presents the apostles after Jesus’ resurrection as getting on with their lives, even after he had appeared to them, in as normal a way as one could expect. Peter and a number of the other disciples, including Thomas, James and John, were at the Sea of Tiberias when Peter decided to go fishing, which is what fishermen do. The rest of them said, “We will go with you.” They fished all night and caught nothing, and then Jesus appeared on the shore.

No one recognized Jesus initially, a common theme in stories of the post-resurrection appearances, until he told them to cast their nets on the other side of the boat; they received an abundant catch of fish, “153 of them.” Once the disciple whom Jesus loved identified the risen Lord, they went to shore, where Jesus was roasting fish over a charcoal fire. Jesus invited his disciples to “Come and have breakfast.”

It is such a normal scene—fishing, breakfast on the beach over a charcoal fire with friends—and so utterly astounding. After all, the man cooking them breakfast had been killed and was now alive. The oddity is transmitted by the Gospel, as we are told: “Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, ‘Who are you?’ because they knew it was the Lord.” The risen Jesus was still difficult to comprehend for the disciples, even though it was the third time he had appeared to them. You can hear the silence in this scene as the men eat their breakfast quietly, stealing glances at Jesus as they sit in the early morning light on the seashore. What exactly do you say to the risen Messiah?

Jesus, in fact, begins the conversation with Peter, asking him if he loves Jesus. It is a powerful scene, in which Peter is challenged three times, the same number as his denials, to declare his love for his teacher. But the first two times Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me,” he uses the verb agapaô, denoting the self-sacrificial love of God for humanity and the love Christians are to show to God and neighbor. Peter responds that he indeed loves Jesus, using the verb phileô, which describes love between friends. On the third occasion it is Jesus who changes the verb, asking Peter “Do you love me?” using phileô. Peter responds, declaring his love, using phileô once again.

Jesus accepts the love that Peter can offer at this time and instructs him a third time to “Feed my sheep,” indicating that there will be a time in the future when Peter will show his agapê in his death. But Peter’s demonstration of his agapê begins long before his death. Leaving the comforts of his Galilean home and the fishing boat, Peter returns to Jerusalem to speak of the risen Jesus.

The fearful Peter who denied Jesus three times prior to his crucifixion is gone, replaced by a Peter who has been arrested for speaking boldly of the new life to be found in Jesus’ name. Already told “not to teach in this name,” Peter and the others could only answer, “We must obey God rather than any human authority.” It was the experience of the witness of the risen Jesus that inspired Peter to speak with boldness.

Peter declared to the council that Jesus, who had been killed, was raised up by God, who “exalted him at his right hand as leader and savior that he might give repentance to Israel and forgiveness of sins.” The word “leader” (archêgos) can be translated as “author,” as in “author [originator] of our salvation.” This is the point of Jesus’ resurrection appearances and Peter’s boldness: to speak to this new salvation offered through Christ.

Peter says, “We are witnesses to these things.” Yet the experiences of the risen Lord were not private events. They were given so that all could share in the risen life. God had acted in history out of agapê for humanity. When that love was made present to the first witnesses, it was essential that this same love would have to be shared with all.

This article appears in April 4-11 2016.

John W. Martens is an associate professor of theology at the University of St. Thomas, St. Paul, Minn,where he teaches early Christianity and Judaism. He also directs the Master of Arts in Theology program at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. He was born in Vancouver, B.C. into a Mennonite family that had decided to confront modernity in an urban setting. His post-secondary education began at Tabor College, Hillsboro, Kansas, came to an abrupt stop, then started again at Vancouver Community College, where his interest in Judaism and Christianity in the earliest centuries emerged. He then studied at St. Michael's College, University of Toronto, and McMaster University, with stops at University of Haifa and University of Tubingen. His writing often explores the intersection of Jewish, Christian and Greco-Roman culture and belief, such as in "let the little children come to me: Children and Childhood in Early Christianity" (Washington, D.C.: The Catholic University of America Press, 2009), but he is not beyond jumping into the intersection of modernity and ancient religion, as in "The End of the World: The Apocalyptic Imagination in Film and Television" (Winnipeg: J. Gordon Shillingford Press, 2003). He blogs at  www.biblejunkies.com and at www.americamagazine.org for "The Good Word." You can follow him on Twitter @biblejunkies, where he would be excited to welcome you to his random and obscure interests, which range from the Vancouver Canucks and Minnesota Timberwolves, to his dog, and 70s punk, pop and rock. When he can, he brings students to Greece, Turkey and Rome to explore the artifacts and landscape of the ancient world. He lives in St. Paul with his wife and has two sons. He is certain that the world will not end until the Vancouver Canucks have won the Stanley Cup, as evidence has emerged from the Revelation of John, 1 Enoch, 2 Baruch, and 4 Ezra which all point in this direction.