Chapter 47 John 21:1–14

Literary Context

The Gospel proper concludes with the proclamation that Jesus Christ has risen from the dead, followed by the corresponding exhortation to the reader to believe and participate in the resurrection life. The story the Gospel tells, however, is not yet finished, for just as this story started “in the beginning” (1:1) so also does it continue, as Jesus explains, “until I return” (21:23). This story does not conclude with the Son of God but begins with him, for its conclusion must also be inclusive of the children of God (1:12), the majority of whom will meet Jesus through the testimony of the Gospel (cf. 10:16). In this pericope, the first of two in the epilogue of the Gospel, the content of the narrative transitions from the life of Jesus to the life of his disciples and from the particular mission of Jesus to the mission of his disciples and the church.

X. Epilogue (21:1–25)
1. A. The Mission of the Church: Jesus and the Fishermen (21:1–14)
2. B. The Ministers of the Church: Peter’s Reinstatement and the Beloved Disciple’s Testimony (21:15–25)

Main Idea

The life and ministry of Jesus is present in and empowering the life and ministry of the church, whose mission is to participate in the ongoing mission of God to the world, for it is in the church where the presence and purposes of God are made manifest.

Translation

Structure and Literary Form

This pericope corresponds to the basic story form (see Introduction). The introduction/setting is established in vv. 1–3, explaining the location and people around whom the plot’s conflict will focus. In vv. 4–6 the dual conflict of the pericope is presented: secondarily the absence of fish and primarily the absence of Jesus. The resolution of the plot is explained in vv. 7–8, with the recognition of Jesus by the Beloved Disciple and the bold move toward him by Peter. Finally, in vv. 9–14 the pericope is given a lengthy and symbol-laden conclusion/interpretation, with v. 14’s announcement that this is the third appearance of Jesus to the disciples serving as a fitting summary of the pericope, forming an inclusio with the “appearance” language in v. 1.

Exegetical Outline

A. The Mission of the Church: Jesus and the Fishermen (21:1–14)
1. 1. Fishermen without Fish (vv. 1–3)
2. 2. Disciples without Jesus (vv. 4–6)
3. 3. “It Is the Lord!” (vv. 7–8)
4. 4. Jesus’s Third Appearance to the Disciples (vv. 9–14)

Explanation of the Text

The epilogue of John provides the authoritative conclusion for the entire Gospel and serves as the lens through which the message of the Gospel must be applied to the reader. While the epilogue functions to offer a conclusion to the narrative’s account of the Gospel (of John), it simultaneously offers an introduction to the continuing participation of the church in the proclamation of the gospel (of God). It is of great importance that the magnificent imagery of the epilogue not detract the reader from grasping its functional significance for directing the application of the Gospel.1

In Depth: The Epilogue

The majority of scholarship on the Gospel of John considers the entirety of chapter 21 to be a later addition to the Gospel. The primary basis of this assumption is the manner in which the purpose statement of 20:30–31 functions as a fitting conclusion to the Gospel (see comments before 20:24).2 The argument for this can only be based on internal evidence, however, for there is not a shred of evidence from the manuscript tradition that suggests the Gospel ever existed without chapter 21. No existing copy of the Gospel ever ends at 20:31, nor are either pericopae in chapter 21 ever found elsewhere in the Gospel. This is significant evidence and makes certain that the burden of proof is placed upon those who argue that chapter 21 is not original to the Gospel.3

Even without external support, however, the majority of scholarship continues to argue that chapter 21 is a later addition. Several reasons have been given. First, in the past it was commonly argued that chapter 21 is stylistically and/or grammatically divergent from the rest of the Gospel. This position has been shown to be untenable, even by those who still claim that chapter 21 is a later addition, like Bultmann, who claims that “language and style afford no sure proof.”4 Smith offers an insightful explanation regarding the reasoning of Bultmann (and certainly others): “The redactional material of the Gospel is identified primarily by theological analysis, with contextual considerations playing a secondary role.”5 As we will see below, the internal argument against the originality of chapter 21 now stems from similar theological presuppositions.6

Second, if not divergent in style, then it is argued that chapter 21 is divergent in substance; the contents of chapter 21 are so loosely related to the rest of the Gospel that it can only be considered independent and secondary.7 The reasons for this difference in content are variously presented and undeniably subjective, an interpretation themselves. There are at least two important connections in content between chapter 21 and the rest of the Gospel. First, chapter 21 provides a necessary end to the story of the two disciples, Peter and the Beloved Disciple, who from chapter 13 on have played very conspicuous roles in the Gospel. It is in chapter 21 where these two characters and their developing roles in the narrative are given an important conclusion.8 Second, chapter 21 provides a necessary conclusion to the character spoken to directly by the narrator: the reader. A major function of chapter 21 is that it expresses a strong and continuing interest in the disciples of the second generation and even all future readers. Jesus prayed for all future believers in chapter 17, and in chapter 21 the Gospel also extends itself to the future believers, the readers to whom it was created to minister. If chapter 1 attempted to connect the story of Jesus to the people of God pre-Christ, chapter 21 is attempting to connect the same story to the people of God post-Christ. Ultimately, however, it is a slight readjustment in subject matter—in this case a shift toward future disciples—that makes an epilogue an epilogue, a related yet distinct conclusion.9

Third, and related to the former, it is argued that the divergence in substance suggests that the purpose statement of 20:30–31 is the intended conclusion of the entire document, so that chapter 21 must be an afterthought of some sort, an appendix or a postscript. This is by far the most common interpretation of the Gospel’s conclusion. The charge that chapter 21 is anticlimactic is itself an interpretation and assumes that the Gospel’s purpose statement at the end of chapter 20 fulfilled the progressive intention of the narrative. However, there are several examples of literary works that have a conclusion to the main body of a work and yet still include a substantial epilogue. There are several kinds of ancient literary forms which have appendices as a normative feature. This was especially common in legal documents, for which “to label this . . . an ‘appendix’ or a ‘supplement’ is consequently misleading; it was not a mere postscript, dispensable as such, but rather the crucial means by which the business at hand was made legally binding upon its principals.”10 Chapter 21 bears many resemblances to such legal documents, especially 21:24, which assumed the disposition of eyewitness testimony. This makes the subscription a requirement for the witness to be official, certifying the veracity of its report (see comments before 21:15). Thus, chapter 21 must be viewed as a necessary conclusion to the Gospel that provides for the reader a final explanation of the story told by the narrative and a necessary legal statement that certifies the trustworthiness of its eyewitness testimony and, therefore, its author.

All this fits perfectly well with the proposed structure of the concluding parts of the Gospel (see comments before 20:24). The Gospel ends with a narrative epilogue (21:1–23) framed by a conclusion divided into two carefully designed stages, with 20:30–31 functioning as the first stage and 21:24–25 functioning as the second stage. The two-stage conclusion serves to fence off the narrative in chapter 21 from the main narrative of the Gospel (chs. 1–20), thus indicating its status as an epilogue. This structure suggests that the epilogue, framed by its two-stage conclusion, was always intended as part of the final Gospel, for some of the reasons suggested above (i.e., narrative conclusion and legal statement). The epilogue has a literary (genre) relationship to the prologue. If the literary function of the prologue was to introduce the important characters in the narrative, situate them within the story, and give some understanding of their importance, the epilogue functioned to conclude the importance and story of those same characters. The validity and narrative importance of the epilogue should be viewed as coterminous with the validity and narrative importance of the prologue (see comments before 1:1).11

Therefore, in a manner entirely consistent with and corresponding to the prologue with which the Gospel begins, the Gospel concludes with a formal epilogue, the narrative conclusion to a (dramatic) text that is intended to bring completion to the story, offer a legal statement by the author, and provide applications for the reader.12 Epilogues were common in both Greco-Roman and Jewish literature.13 And in the ancient world both prologues and epilogues “were written as a rule by the authors of the books themselves and not by someone else.”14 But they were intended for the reader. In fact, the entire Gospel has displayed sensitivity to the reader, guiding the reading of the narrative at both ends of the Gospel. Just as the Gospel began with a double beginning consisting of the prologue (1:1–18) and an introduction to the narrative proper (1:19–51), so the Gospel has a double ending consisting of a two-staged conclusion (20:30–31; 21:24–25) that frames the epilogue (21:1–23). In collaboration with the two-stage conclusion, chapter 21 serves as a technical epilogue and “carries forward” the theme and message of the entire Gospel, not only by bridging the gap between the reader and the content of the narrative but also by bridging the gap between the reader and the authoritative witness and identity of the author.15

Just as the Gospel’s prologue serves to lift the reader so that he may grasp the full cosmological significance of the person and work of Jesus Christ, so the Gospel’s epilogue serves to land the reader so that he may be guided in the newly established relation with God and mission of God. Similar to the prologue, then, the epilogue of the Gospel casts a vision for the reader, providing the spectacles needed for seeing the cosmological story of the Gospel in the real world, that is, in the reader’s world. For this reason the reader can expect the epilogue to be more symbolic in presentation. The prologue’s generic, symbol-laden language and depictions that speak of things beyond what the eye could see (e.g., life, light, darkness, children, flesh, Son, grace, truth) are matched by the epilogue’s equally symbolic depiction of the final appearance of Jesus with his disciples that speaks beyond the things it addresses.16 In the epilogue, the narrator has in mind not merely the story he has been telling but also the reader to whom he has been speaking. We should expect, then, for the narrative to depict even more explicitly the coalescence of the historical and cosmological strands of the Gospel’s plot into the world of the reader. For in the same way the prologue directs the reader from their (historical) world and to its narrative (cosmological) world, the epilogue directs the reader from its narrative (cosmological) world and back to their (historical) world.

Between these two symbol-laden (dramatic) genres of prologue and epilogue, the Gospel frames its message and invitation to the reader. The Gospel begins with the exhortation to “follow” Jesus (1:37–43) and ends with a nearly identical exhortation (21:19–22), though now with full access to the Father, through the Son, and in and by the Spirit. Befitting the purpose of the entire Gospel, Segovia helpfully speaks of the epilogue’s rhetorical intentions and strategic functions.17 Primarily the epilogue performs a didactic and exhortative service, but not without admonitory and consolatory aspects: the need for mission in and to the world, the message that nothing is possible without Jesus, the explanation that love for Jesus and “following” Jesus is discipleship and the nature of “shepherding,” that the loss of life is a real possibility, and the significant role of the disciples. Ultimately then, the Gospel ends where it started, with the mission of God to the world. At the end of the Gospel, however, it is no longer merely the mission of the Son who was sent by the Father but now also the mission of the church who is sent by the Son (20:21).18

21:1 After these things Jesus appeared again to the disciples at the Sea of Tiberias. He appeared in this way (Μετὰ ταῦτα ἐφανέρωσεν ἑαυτὸν πάλιν ὁ Ἰησοῦς τοῖς μαθηταῖς ἐπὶ τῆς θαλάσσης τῆς Τιβεριάδος· ἐφανέρωσεν δὲ οὕτως). The introduction and setting of the pericope (vv. 1–3) begins with a generic connective phrase, “after these things” (Μετὰ ταῦτα), which occurs frequently in the Gospel (see comments on 2:12), directing the reader to read this pericope as a continuation of what precedes it. Combined with the adverb “again” (πάλιν), this opening statement serves to “bind” the following story to those of 20:19–23 and 20:24–29. If the reader thought 20:30–31 was the Gospel’s conclusion and not simply its purpose statement, this verse “must make him change his mind.”19

This verse introduces for the reader another “appearance” of the resurrected Jesus to his disciples. This third appearance (see v. 14) occurs not in a locked room like the first two, but on the shore of the Sea of Tiberias. If it was fitting for Jesus’s first two appearances to take place at the gathering of the earliest church (cf. 20:26), it is appropriate that Jesus’s final appearance was out in the world, even beyond the confines of Jerusalem (see comments on 6:1). In all three appearances, Jesus met his disciples where they were, for Jesus has always been and remains “the coming one” (see 12:13).

By using the verb “appeared” (ἐφανέρωσεν) twice in the opening verse and once in the final verse (v. 14), the pericope creates an inclusio that establishes the appearance or “revelation” of Jesus as “the announcement of a theme”20 and “the key doctrine of the passage.”21 This appearance is not to establish the fact of his presence, for that was already accomplished—and emphatically with Thomas. Rather, this appearance establishes the continuation of his presence, how the risen Lord will reveal himself to and be present with his disciples in all future times. The revelation of the Son of God—and God himself (1:18)—is a major theme in the Gospel (e.g., 1:31; 2:11; 3:21; 7:4; 9:3; 17:6). The revelation of Jesus was intended for Israel (1:31) and for the purpose of revealing his “glory” (2:11), which the prologue connected directly to Jesus’s dwelling presence, his “tabernacling” (1:14). In this pericope, filled with numerous symbol-laden details, Jesus will explain further the continuing nature of his presence with his disciples, the church.

21:2 Simon Peter, Thomas, the one called Didymus, Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, the sons of Zebedee, and two others of his disciples were together (ἦσαν ὁμοῦ Σίμων Πέτρος καὶ Θωμᾶς ὁ λεγόμενος Δίδυμος καὶ Ναθαναὴλ ὁ ἀπὸ Κανὰ τῆς Γαλιλαίας καὶ οἱ τοῦ Ζεβεδαίου καὶ ἄλλοι ἐκ τῶν μαθητῶν αὐτοῦ δύο). The narrator introduces the characters to whom Jesus would reveal himself. The seven characters are described as his “disciples” both here and in v. 1, even though Nathanael was not one of “the Twelve” (see 1:45). Clearly the term is being used more expansively here, and rightly so in light of the Gospel’s shift from present to future disciples (20:29–31). The presence of seven disciples may be intended to symbolize a perfect or complete number, and not merely a truncated twelve. The number is clearly symbolic in biblical literature, even Johannine literature (Rev 1:20), and the obvious symbolism used later in the pericope makes it difficult to avoid the implicit “impression” (see Introduction) crafted by the narrative.22 It could even be argued that the Gospel has made “seven” a thematic number (e.g., seven “signs”; seven days of the week). The narrator could have expressed his symbolic intentions more clearly, however, if he had stated the number explicitly and not required the reader to do the counting.23

Since v. 7 mentions the presence of the Beloved Disciple, he is certainly to be included among the seven disciples and is almost certainly one of the two unnamed disciples who are the sons of Zebedee, mentioned only here in the Gospel (John and James; see Mark 1:19). This finds strong agreement with the traditional identification of the Beloved Disciple as John, son of Zebedee (on authorship, see Introduction). Befitting the epilogue and conclusion of the Gospel (20:30–21:25), the author reveals more insights into his identity, though the continued anonymity facilitates further his significant connection to the testimony of the Gospel (see comments on 21:24).

21:3 Simon Peter said to them, “I am going to fish.” They said to him, “We will go also with you.” So they went out and got into the boat, yet that night they caught nothing (λέγει αὐτοῖς Σίμων Πέτρος, Ὑπάγω ἁλιεύειν. λέγουσιν αὐτῷ, Ἐρχόμεθα καὶ ἡμεῖς σὺν σοί. ἐξῆλθον καὶ ἐνέβησαν εἰς τὸ πλοῖον, καὶ ἐν ἐκείνῃ τῇ νυκτὶ ἐπίασαν οὐδέν). Simon Peter, the leader and spokesperson for the disciples (cf. 1:40, 42), announces that he is going fishing, and the rest of the disciples decide to join him. There is nothing in the text to suggest that Peter’s announcement is an abandonment of the apostolic mission. Numerous commentators relate this particular activity to the disciples’ former occupation and therefore interpret this more extremely as “complete apostasy,”24 or less extremely as an “aimless activity undertaken in desperation.”25 The text alone, however, does not demand such interpretations. Rather, the scene detailed by the narrator intends to depict a real-life circumstance into which the newly assigned apostolic mission can now be contextualized.26 The narrative does not show any interest in why Peter (and the others) went fishing; it is more concerned to describe how their fishing went. Moreover, it is not Peter who should be interpreted symbolically but the act of fishing, which Scripture uses as a metaphor for the apostolic mission of “catching people” (see Luke 5:10).27 And it is not their decision to fish but their inability to fish that Jesus will address (vv. 5–6).

The disciples went fishing but “caught nothing” (ἐπίασαν οὐδέν) that night. The narrator explains their lack of success because it is directly related to the plot of the Gospel. The lack of fish, however, is not the true conflict in this pericope. The Gospel has already used a miracle story to depict a far greater conflict, even if the miracle was employed to depict it (see 2:1–4). The occurrence of the term “night” (νυκτὶ), in light of its use in the rest of the Gospel, strongly colors the context of the scene. Since the term always has negative connotations in the Gospel and often in regard to the cosmological strand of the Gospel’s plot (see comments on 3:2), it is likely being used in a similar way here. There is evidence that fishing was commonly done at night (e.g., Luke 5:5),28 but with their lack of success the term creates the “impression” that there is more going on here than fishermen’s luck. The disciples of Jesus are still grasping at the reality of the resurrection and their participation in the life of God through Christ. Something (or someone) is still missing. Jesus had said to the disciples, “You will be scattered, each to his own home, and to leave me alone” (16:32), and their actions here likely fulfill his prophecy. With this verse then, the reader has been given the introduction and setting for the narrative to follow.

21:4 But as it was becoming morning, Jesus stood on the shore, though the disciples did not recognize that it was Jesus (πρωΐας δὲ ἤδη γενομένης ἔστη Ἰησοῦς εἰς τὸν αἰγιαλόν· οὐ μέντοι ᾔδεισαν οἱ μαθηταὶ ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστιν). The conflict of the pericope (vv. 4–6) is introduced by the narrator’s robustly theological description of the appearance of Jesus. In every appearance to his disciples, Jesus is described with the verb “stood” (ἔστη), as if he just appeared before them (see 20:14, 19, 26). While the narrator shares with the reader the deliberation of the disciples, their departure from that place, and even their entrance into the boat (v. 3), Jesus’s appearance on the shore is given minimal detail. This cryptic maneuver is almost certainly intentional (see comments on 20:19).

Although the disciples went out to fish at “night” (v. 3), Jesus appears before them on the shore “as it was becoming morning” (πρωΐας δὲ ἤδη γενομένης). The term “morning” (πρωΐας) refers to the “early part of the daylight period.”29 The night “impression” created in v. 3 is facilitated further by the contrastive sense here. As the sun appears over the horizon, Jesus appears on the shore. The statement “but as it was becoming morning” serves to explain not the chronological order of events but the cosmological reality in which the disciples now exist.30

The contrastive context has been introduced (e.g., disciples and Jesus; night and light), but what is the pericope’s conflict? It is introduced formally at the end of the verse: “Though the disciples did not recognize that it was Jesus” (οὐ μέντοι ᾔδεισαν οἱ μαθηταὶ ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστιν).31 There is no need to speculate regarding the reason for their inability to see Jesus, natural or supernatural,32 for the Gospel has used before the inability to see or recognize Jesus in order to highlight the true nature of his presence (see comments on 20:14). While the absence of fish will be quickly remedied in this pericope, it is the absence of Jesus that becomes the intended focus of the narrative details. The narrative is already guiding the reader to see that the inability or inadequacy of the disciples to catch fish reveals that something deeper is missing.

21:5 Jesus said to them, “Children, you do not have any fish, do you?” They answered him, “No” (λέγει οὖν αὐτοῖς [ὁ] Ἰησοῦς, Παιδία, μή τι προσφάγιον ἔχετε; ἀπεκρίθησαν αὐτῷ, Οὔ). Like the previous appearances to the disciples, it is Jesus who speaks first. Jesus calls out to his disciples by using the title “children” (Παιδία), which should be interpreted as synonymous with the significant term in the prologue that also is translated as “children” (τέκνα).33 The Fourth Gospel frequently uses related or overlapping words synonymously across the narrative; it is only when they are used in close proximity (especially in the same verse) that there is usually a carefully nuanced distinction or comparison intended between them (e.g., 13:10; 21:15–17). This is further supported by the interchangeable use of these two terms in a letter of John (e.g., 1 John 2:14, 18 and 2:1, 12, 28; 3:7, 18; 4:4; 5:21). Fittingly then, Jesus reaches out to his disciples with a title that can only now be bestowed upon them after his death and resurrection. It is only because of the authoritative name of the Son of God that they can receive the name “children” of God (1:12).

Jesus addresses not only their new identity (“children”) but also their condition, their lack of fish. He asks them a simple question that expects a negative answer, and they give an even simpler negative response. The narrator is establishing that both sides are aware of the situation at hand, though Jesus’s knowledge of their lack of fish highlights how much else he “recognizes” that they do not. Jesus uses a far less common term for “fish” (προσφάγιον) that generally is used to refer to fish to eat.34 The term facilitates a further contrast between Jesus and his disciples: while they were unable to provide a meal for themselves, Jesus himself will provide the fish to eat (v. 9).35 This is not the first time the reader of the Gospel has seen Jesus ask a question for which he already knew the answer (see 5:6).

21:6 Then Jesus said to them, “Throw the net on the right side of the boat, and you will find some.” They threw it, and they were no longer able to lift it because of the large number of fish (ὁ δὲ εἶπεν αὐτοῖς, Βάλετε εἰς τὰ δεξιὰ μέρη τοῦ πλοίου τὸ δίκτυον, καὶ εὑρήσετε. ἔβαλον οὖν, καὶ οὐκέτι αὐτὸ ἑλκύσαι ἴσχυον ἀπὸ τοῦ πλήθους τῶν ἰχθύων). Still standing on the shore, Jesus commands the disciples to throw their net on the right side of the boat, where he promises fish will be present. Without any verbal response, they obey his command and receive in their nets a bountiful catch of fish; it is so large that the disciples were not physically able to lift the overcrowded net into the boat. The miraculous solution to the lack of fish “is described with the greatest reserve.”36 The quick resolution further supports the argument that the pericope’s conflict is the absence of Jesus, not fish.

The narrative gives no indication that the commands of Jesus are unique or somehow the point. There is no historical evidence that the right side of the boat had any such significance for fishing. To suggest that the right side was the side of fortune, as some commentators suggest, is to read pagan practices into Scripture.37 The extravagant catch of fish strongly suggests that something beyond the plain sense of catching fish is in view. Some suggest that a moral lesson is intended—that obedience to the master is a significant aspect of discipleship.38 But it is more commonly suggested that some kind of symbolic representation is intended. Even the absence of fish as the direct object of “you will find some” (εὑρήσετε) strongly implies that the object about which Jesus speaks is less fish and more people.39

The magnitude of fish is not intended for a meal (see v. 9) but to symbolize “the effective authorization and promise of the Risen One to fulfill the missionary mandate that he has given to his disciples.”40 This might also explain the willingness of the disciples to obey a stranger’s command from the shore. In this moment the disciples were more shepherds than fishermen (1 Pet 5:2–4), for they heard and responded to the “voice” of the Good Shepherd (10:16). The lack of an explicit seventh sign has led some to suggest that this miracle is the seventh sign.41 If this were some sort of sign, however—and it is not! (see comments before 20:1)—then it would be a symbolic anticipation of the apostolic mission and not the mission of the Son.42 If the Gospel proper describes the Son’s role in the mission of God, then the Gospel’s epilogue prescribes the church’s role in the mission of God.

21:7 Then that disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” After Simon Peter heard that it is the Lord, he wrapped the outer garment, for he had taken it off, and threw himself into the sea” (λέγει οὖν ὁ μαθητὴς ἐκεῖνος ὃν ἠγάπα ὁ Ἰησοῦς τῷ Πέτρῳ, Ὁ κύριός ἐστιν. Σίμων οὖν Πέτρος, ἀκούσας ὅτι ὁ κύριός ἐστιν, τὸν ἐπενδύτην διεζώσατο, ἦν γὰρ γυμνός, καὶ ἔβαλεν ἑαυτὸν εἰς τὴν θάλασσαν). The resolution of the pericope (vv. 7–8) begins with a recognition scene similar to the scenes in chapter 20 and with an exchange between the two primary disciples in the Gospel, Peter and the Beloved Disciple.43 Though at first unrecognized, the Beloved Disciple sees and announces to his fellow disciples that the man giving instructions from the shore is Jesus, which he announces almost certainly in the form of an emphatic witness: “It is the Lord!” (ὁ κύριός ἐστιν). The Beloved Disciple has had a significant role in the Gospel (see comments on 13:23), and it is in the epilogue where the nature of his identity is more clearly revealed (see 21:2, 24). By recognizing Jesus and declaring him before the other disciples, the Beloved Disciple is again functioning as an ideal witness to the person and work of Jesus Christ.

This is the third of four comparison-like depictions of Peter and the Beloved Disciple (13:22–25; 20:3–9; 21:7; 21:20–23). In contrast to the implied race between them in the previous comparison (see comments on 20:4), this encounter is similar to the first (13:22–25) where collaboration is depicted. Although the Beloved Disciples is the first to recognize Jesus, it is Peter who is the first to respond—and in a radical manner. Comparison was a standard rhetorical technique, employing comparison of characters in ways useful to the point of the narrative.44 For this reason the point of comparison must involve not only the recognition of Jesus but also the intensity of the movement toward Jesus.45

If the Beloved Disciple exhibits an awareness of Jesus (he recognized the voice of his Shepherd), Peter exhibits a desire for his presence, underscored by the fact that he “wrapped” (cf. 13:4–5) his garments around him (which the labor of fishing had required him to remove) and leaped into the sea, apparently in order to swim to Jesus, leaving the other disciples to tend to the fish. The fact that the narrator does not describe Peter’s arrival to the beach suggests that his initial response is the fact of importance. It is almost as if Peter were bringing his belongings with him so as to follow Jesus.46 In the least, this displays for the reader the kind of response one should have to the Lord.

21:8 The other disciples came in the boat, dragging the net of fish, for they were not far away from the land but about two hundred cubits (οἱ δὲ ἄλλοι μαθηταὶ τῷ πλοιαρίῳ ἦλθον, οὐ γὰρ ἦσαν μακρὰν ἀπὸ τῆς γῆς ἀλλὰ ὡς ἀπὸ πηχῶν διακοσίων, σύροντες τὸ δίκτυον τῶν ἰχθύων). This verse serves to explain further the radical departure of Peter. Not only did Peter leave the other disciples with a net crammed full of fish that was too heavy to lift into the boat (v. 6), so that the disciples were “dragging” (σύροντες) the net alongside the boat until they could reach the shore, but Peter also jumped into the water so that he had to swim a good distance to the shore. The narrator explains that when Peter jumped into the sea, the boat was about two hundred “cubits” (πηχῶν) from land. Since one cubit is an average man’s forearm (the distance from the elbow to the end of the middle finger), which is about 45–52 centimeters or 19–20 inches, two hundred cubits would be about 330 feet or 110 yards (100 meters).47 Peter’s dramatic movement toward Jesus is only slightly more extravagant than the disciples, who are similarly exerting themselves to get the fish Jesus procured for them from the overflowing net being pulled behind their boat to the shore. En route to Jesus, the conflict of the pericope is given resolution. The missing element in their previous activities now stands before them, ready and waiting.

21:9 Then when they arrived at the land they saw a charcoal fire already prepared, a fish lying on it, and bread (ὡς οὖν ἀπέβησαν εἰς τὴν γῆν βλέπουσιν ἀνθρακιὰν κειμένην καὶ ὀψάριον ἐπικείμενον καὶ ἄρτον). The conclusion and interpretation of the pericope (vv. 9–14) is a lengthy selection of symbol-laden details that direct the reader to grasp the ministerial presence of Christ and the nature of the apostolic mission. It seems that when the disciples had been busy in their inadequacy, Jesus had prepared on the shore for them a charcoal fire with fish already being grilled upon it and some bread. Jesus did not merely catch fish, he prepared a meal.

The second occurrence of the term “charcoal fire” (ἀνθρακιὰν) creates a potent contrast. At its first appearance Peter was warming himself at the fire prepared by the enemies of his Lord (18:18). Now, however, he is warming himself at a fire prepared by his Lord. “What is happening around this charcoal fire is the work of the resurrected Lord.”48 An unsuccessful night’s work draws to its end, and the disciples are only beginning to realize the reality of Jesus’s words “apart from me you can do nothing” (15:5).49 It is important to note that this redemptive charcoal fire is the context in which the Gospel will end (21:15–25).

21:10 Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you caught just now” (λέγει αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Ἐνέγκατε ἀπὸ τῶν ὀψαρίων ὧν ἐπιάσατε νῦν). Jesus never intended to prepare this meal on his own, for he commands his disciples to bring some of the caught fish to him, that is, to this meal. For a fishing story, this is a strange request. The singular “fish” in v. 9 provides an interesting contrast with the plural “fish” here, suggesting that this meal had always required a shared responsibility. It is when the disciples bring the fish they too have caught that the meal receives its full significance. It is surprising that Jesus credits the disciples with the catch of fish, for certainly he was the one primarily responsible.50 It seems clear that the catching of the fish and the preparation of the meal is intended to portray the nature of the disciples’ involvement and participation in the mission of God. At this moment the resurrected Lord is teaching his disciples how to “share in his resurrection power” and “continue his work on earth.”51

The ministry of Jesus is framed in this Gospel by meals he prepared: in 2:1–11 Jesus produces the wine for a wedding feast, and here Jesus provides the fish and bread for his disciples.52 While the first meal set the context for the work he would do for his disciples, the last meal (the true last supper!) would set the context for the work his disciples would do through him for others (cf. Jesus’s forthcoming command to Peter in 21:15, 17: “Feed my lambs/sheep”).53

21:11 Then Simon Peter went up and dragged the net onto the land. It was full of large fish, 153, but even with so many the net was not torn (ἀνέβη οὖν Σίμων Πέτρος καὶ εἵλκυσεν τὸ δίκτυον εἰς τὴν γῆν μεστὸν ἰχθύων μεγάλων ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα τριῶν· καὶ τοσούτων ὄντων οὐκ ἐσχίσθη τὸ δίκτυον). Peter, again the first to respond to Jesus, “went up” (ἀνέβη) into the boat, that is, he “climbed aboard,” and he “dragged the net” (εἵλκυσεν τὸ δίκτυον) onto the shore, apparently on his own. The text is not suggesting that Peter displayed some sort of miraculous strength by dragging the net by his own power. The emphasis is on the inclusion of the disciples’ fish, not on their delivery. The strength of delivery that is emphasized is in regard to the net, which the narrator notes was full of so many large fish. The symbolic nature of the epilogue suggests that “something more” is being told to the readers here. The intended symbolism might be of the net’s physical power so as to depict how Christ is never overstrained, or of the net’s unifying power so as to depict how through Christ “the church remains one, in spite of the number and variety of its members.”54 It might be best, however, to let the symbolic “impressions” created by the scene be reflected in several directions, since both of these options (even if there are more) are clearly true of Christ.55 The provisions and powers of Jesus are true for both fish and followers.

The most debated symbolism, however, is the number of fish in the net: “153” (ἑκατὸν πεντήκοντα τριῶν). No analysis of this number in the history of the church has brought anything close to an agreeable resolution. The more specific the solution the more it feels fabricated or forced, yet to ignore the fact that the narrator did not give a round number is equally unsettling. There are five primary options offered to explain the depiction of the 153 fish.56

In Depth: The 153 Fish

1. Historical Description. This interpretation denies that the number has any symbolic intentions. Its purpose, rather, is much more mundane: to provide the exact count of fish from the catch.57 The specificity does affect the reader’s understanding of the scene, but only in a manner that helps “fulfill their natural purpose” by providing “a vivid account of human experience”58 or by offering a detail that is representative of its eyewitness testimony.59 While this minimalist interpretation is attractive, in light of the Gospel’s use of symbolism—especially with numbers—it is difficult to believe that this is the only intention.
2. Natural Symbolism. This interpretation maintains a historical basis for the number but suggests that it is also directing the reader to a symbolic message. Jerome, in his commentary on Ezekiel 47:6–12, argues with the assistance of Greek zoologists that there are 153 different kinds of fish, which by implication declares the fullness of the catch, representative of the church.60 Unfortunately, not only has Jerome’s appropriation of zoological information been proven inaccurate,61 but such a suggestion is also inaccurate according to contemporary standards of natural science.
3. Biblical Symbolism. This interpretation moves from the natural world to the textually mediated world of the Bible and argues that the number employs an already established symbolic number from Scripture. Guilding suggests that the number is an allusion to the 153,300 workers assigned to building Solomon’s temple recorded in 1 Kings 5:15–16.62 While the image fits nicely with the building of the church, the suggestion is not clear from 1 Kings 5, for the reader would have to do their own calculation. A more thematic connection is suggested by Brooke who uses the Dead Sea Scrolls, which calculates that the flood in Genesis occurred for a total of 153 days (from its start to the grounding on the mountain).63 Again, while this allows for Brooke to suggest that the Gospel employs Jewish exegetical traditions to connect the pericope to the Noah narrative and even further to the baptism typology in the Petrine tradition (1 Pet 3:20–21), one wonders if his solution has become more complicated than the original problem.
4. Mathematical Symbolism. This interpretation suggests the solution is to be found in a mathematical approach that depicts or displays a theological truth. Origen is said to have been the first to suggest that the number represents the Trinity, for it can be divided into three parts of which to themselves are “three:” 153 = (50 × 3) + 3.64 Augustine seems to do something similar and adds a further dimension that 153 is the sum of the natural numbers from 1 to 17 (a triangular number), which he saw as symbolizing the Ten Commandments plus the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit.65 While Origen helpfully shows the agency of the Trinitarian God by the number, and Augustine shows how all “who are sharers in such grace are symbolized by this number.”66 What they do not show is the necessity of such calculations from the specifics of the narrative context.
5. Gematria. This interpretation is the most technical option and suggests that the solution is to be found in the numerical values assigned to letters in Greek (and sometimes Hebrew). If every letter represents a number, then the value of a word’s constituent letters added together equals a determinable number. This is hardly unique in Scripture (e.g., the number 666 in Rev 13:18). Because of the variety of possible options, an equally wide range of interpretations has been offered. One of the most recent and carefully defined is by Bauckham, who relies on what he thinks is the neglected work of Menken67 to reintroduce the use of numerical composition in biblical and related literature.68 Bauckham makes a number of arguments using gematria that make fascinating connections within John, to the rest of Scripture, and even between chapters 20 and 21. For example, Bauckham explains how the key words of 20:30–31 are “sign,” “believe,” “Christ,” and “life,” with each occurring for the last time in those verses. If the occurrences of each of the words are counted, the result is as follows: “sign” (17x), “believe” (98x), “Christ” (19x), and “life” (36x). It is not a coincidence, according to Bauckham, that the sum of the last three of these numbers is 153, and that 17, the number of the first (sign), is its triangular number and therefore declaring in the opening of the Gospel’s epilogue a numerical statement that projects the “word statistics” of the theological message of the entire Gospel.69 While the vast majority of contemporary readers of the Gospel will perceive none of the instances of numerical composition, the story is still fully intelligible. For Bauckham, the numerical literary techniques simply “add dimensions of meaning to the text for those who discern them, but they are not required for understanding the message of the Gospel and they do not impede ‘ordinary’ readers who are not likely to discern them.”70 While nothing regarding gematria feels ordinary to the modern reader, its use in the ancient world and the functionality of word statistics is worth noting.

The symbolism of the 153 fish is “as elusive as it is evident.”71 The lack of a qualification, unlike the one supplied in v. 8 (“about” [ὡς]), strongly suggests an intentional specificity, if only “on the principle that where there is smoke there is fire.”72 Yet our interpretation must be directed by an equally important principle: any intended symbolism must match the subject matter of the context. The complexity of interpretive possibilities suggested for this number forces this interpreter to remain cautious regarding its specific intention. The symbolic (genre) conventions of the epilogue, along with the other symbols and images more clearly established in the pericope, provide an interpretive freedom, bounded by the context, for the application of one or more exegetically derived “impressions” regarding the number’s meaning. In the least the number symbolizes further what the pericope as a whole is intending to express: the magnitude of the Christian church and the comprehensive nature of its mission and the detailed and particular power and authority of God that facilitates the church’s mission.73 While this interpreter is comfortable to allow the Gospel to speak with a higher or more complex level of numerical-theological intentionality (on method and its relation to the doctrine of Scripture, see Introduction), not all interpreters will function under the same doctrinal-exegetical freedom.

21:12 Jesus said to them, “Come and eat a meal.” Not one of the disciples dared to question him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord (λέγει αὐτοῖς ὁ Ἰησοῦς, Δεῦτε ἀριστήσατε. οὐδεὶς δὲ ἐτόλμα τῶν μαθητῶν ἐξετάσαι αὐτόν, Σὺ τίς εἶ; εἰδότες ὅτι ὁ κύριός ἐστιν). The fish that Peter “dragged” onto the shore are never mentioned again. Jesus has always been the provider of the food, even if the disciples (the church) have a role to play. Jesus invites his disciples to the meal that he prepared for them. Jesus’s invitation to his disciples to “come and eat,” which are apparently the last words Jesus speaks to the disciples as a group in the Gospel, match perfectly the first words spoken by Jesus as an invitation to the disciples, “Come and see” (1:39).74 As the narrator explains, however, the disciples say nothing as they take it all in. The entire focus of the scene is the mysterious and overwhelming nature of Christ’s presence and the disciples together with him.75

The narrator offers a fascinating and interpretive insight into the disciples. Although Jesus was recognized by the disciples in v. 7, the narrator explains here that the disciples wanted but were unwilling to ask about his identity—they knew his identity, that he was the Lord. The verb translated as “to question” (ἐξετάσαι) is often used of a persons who “try to find out by use of careful methods . . . personal scrutiny.”76 They wanted to do more than ask a surface-level question; they wanted to cross-examine Jesus and ask about “the deep things of God” (1 Cor 2:10). But they remained silent (cf. comment on 16:23: “In that day you will not ask me anything”). The only reason given by the narrator is that in spite of their legitimate question, they already “knew” (εἰδότες) the answer, for they already knew “the Lord” (an important title in this Gospel; cf. 20:2, 28) and that his person was the subject matter of all their questions.

Why did they not speak their questions? The force of the verb, which refers to a cross-examination, is stark in its similarity to the kind of examination Thomas wanted to perform on Jesus in 20:25.77 Is it possible that the disciples learned from Thomas and now respond rightly to their Lord? The narrative suggests that they have gained a knowledge that “although it might want further assurance, inspires so much awe that it does not dare require that confirmation.”78 Even though they have not seen, they believe and therefore decide to receive in themselves the blessing promised by Christ (20:29). No further “signs” were needed, just the continuous belief to “see.” Their confession, unlike Thomas’s (“the Lord”; cf. 20:28), is silent—in the form of a prayer only the Lord could hear.

21:13 Then Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and also the fish (ἔρχεται Ἰησοῦς καὶ λαμβάνει τὸν ἄρτον καὶ δίδωσιν αὐτοῖς, καὶ τὸ ὀψάριον ὁμοίως). The pericope ends with a meal. The ministry of Jesus begins (2:1–11) and ends with a celebratory meal. This meal is “Jesus’s climactic means of self-revelation in this life.”79 The Gospel has made certain that the true meal Jesus provides is his body and blood, but this has been proclaimed in this Gospel by real food and drink—a real meal. Just as Jesus more fully declared his person and work in the context of such a meal (cf. 6:22–71), so here the disciples are again confronted by Jesus in the context of a meal. The reader cannot avoid interpreting this meal in relation to the feeding of the large crowd and the bread of life dialogue in chapter 6 and therefore as a depiction of the Lord’s Supper or Eucharist (see comments before 6:22). The symbolic nature of the epilogue suggests that “something more” is again being told to the readers.

This meal with the resurrected Lord therefore is the meal set apart by the Lord for his disciples and thereafter for the church. Just as the disciples share in the presence of Christ at this meal, so also does the church participate together in Christ at their “Supper of the Lord.” It is important to note that Jesus is not described as eating at this meal but serving. This is his meal, but it is from him and not for him.80 The epilogue helps the reader grasp the cosmological reality now made accessible through Christ and in and by the Spirit. When the church gathers together, the Lord is present with them (see 14:18–20), serving them by his very own person and work.

21:14 This is now the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples after he was raised from the dead (τοῦτο ἤδη τρίτον ἐφανερώθη Ἰησοῦς τοῖς μαθηταῖς ἐγερθεὶς ἐκ νεκρῶν). The pericope concludes the way it started (see v. 1), forming an inclusio with what is now the third use of the verb “appeared” (ἐφανερώθη), matching what is the third physical appearance to his disciples. The numerical indication “the third time” (τοῦτο ἤδη τρίτον) suggests “that there is full certainty as to the fact of the resurrection.”81 But as this pericope has made clear, this appearance primarily intends to establish the continuation of Jesus’s presence and how the Lord is revealed and present with his disciples, the church. The era of the new creation has been inaugurated, beginning the moment Jesus “was raised from the dead.”

Theology in Application

The story of the life and ministry of Jesus, which the Gospel proper explained (chs. 1–20), transitions in the epilogue to the life and ministry of the church (ch. 21). Just as the epilogue serves to conclude the story told by the Gospel proper, it also introduces the continuation of the same story lived by the disciples. Serving as a parallel to the introduction provided by the prologue, the epilogue guides the reader in their newly established relationship with God and his mission. In this pericope, the narrative explains to the reader the nature of the continuation of the presence of Jesus with his disciples and guides them to understand and to be faithful to their identity and calling in the ongoing mission of God.

The Ministry of an Epilogue (and a Gospel)

By concluding with an epilogue, the Gospel expresses further its interest in the reader. As much as the Gospel of John is about the good news established in the life and ministry of Jesus Christ, it is also intent on establishing the reader into the life of Jesus by means of his ministry. The generic conventions of an epilogue make clear that the subject matter of the Gospel is not merely the past but also the present. The readers are also part of the Gospel’s message, for by participating by faith in its witness, they substantiate its very purpose and existence. This story of things past is intended to communicate with things present. As much as the Gospel of John is not the book of Acts, its presentation is so inclusive and sensitive to the reader, especially by means of the epilogue, that it shares many similarities. The Gospel reflects the gospel not only with its words but also with its actions (perlocutionary intentions). In a manner similar to Jesus’s incarnational ministry to the world, the narrative of the Gospel enters into the world of the reader, giving the spectacles needed to grasp not only the sin-filled reality of the human condition but also the grace-filled extension of God through the person and work of Christ to that same humanity. The message of the Fourth Gospel therefore is as relevant and contemporary as the person who reads it, because its subject matter is “the living Father” (6:57) and his Son, Jesus Christ—who is the same yesterday, today, and forever (Heb 13:8).

The Life and Ministry of the Church

The theme of this pericope is the continuation of the presence of Jesus and the mission of God in the life and ministry of the disciples and thereafter the church. Jesus had already commissioned the disciples by word and Spirit to continue by participation in the mission of God (20:19–23); in this pericope, the nature of that participation is explicated. Several things are explained. First, the mission of the church can be depicted by the metaphor of fishing, the “catching of people” (see v. 3). The church is the ministerial extension of God in the world, seeking people to “come and see” Christ. In a real sense, by the Spirit the church is called to “tabernacle” as the body of Christ in the world. Second, the church’s work is ultimately a work of God. It cannot (and will not) succeed without his direction, empowerment, and presence. The mission of the church is a subset of the mission of God. Third, the life of the church is participation in the presence of Christ, which the pericope places symbolically in the gathering of the disciples and their sacred meal with Christ, that is, by means of the divinely instituted manifestation of God in the church. The Gospel has made clear that the arrival of Jesus means that God is truly “dwelling” among his people, first by the incarnation of the Son and now by the incarnational presence of the Spirit. Just as God has intimately made himself manifest to and in his church, the church is called to make God manifest through its corporate life and ministry.

The True Fisherman

In this pericope the true catcher of fish was Jesus, not the disciples; the narrative makes this very clear. Yet Jesus makes an important statement when he commands the disciples to bring to him “the fish that you caught just now” (v. 10). Certainly the disciples cannot claim much responsibility for this catch of fish, for Jesus was the one primarily responsible. Even more, Jesus had no apparent need for them, for he already had a fish of his own cooking on the fire (v. 9). The narrative does not intend to present a contradiction but the paradoxical reality of life in God and by his Spirit. Through the narrative, the reader is instructed regarding the life lived by the knowledge of Christ and the ministry done by “the power of his resurrection” and even “participation” in the fullness of his person and work (Phil 3:10).

In this way, the lesson of the narrative is clear. While the church is to be faithful in its participation in the mission and work of God, it also knows full well that its success is entirely dependent upon God. Calvin offers the correct theological explanation to this paradox: “Thus we call it our bread, and yet, by asking that it may be given to us, we confess that it comes from God’s blessing.”82 If our life in him finds its source and success in God, so also must our life for him, the church’s ministry: “For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever!” (Rom 11:36).

Believing without Seeing: The Role of Doubt and Faith

This pericope offers a final portrait of the disciples that brings together several major themes in the Gospel’s message. Although the disciples recognize Jesus in v. 7, the narrator reveals that they wanted to know more; they wanted to cross-examine him and have him answer the plethora of questions and concerns they still had. Yet they said nothing! The narrator simply says they already “knew” who he was, and in some way that was enough. The disciples were able to rest securely in the person and work of Jesus even though there were other things they still did not know. This is not to minimize their fears and doubts but to make them subservient to their faith—even more, to the object of their faith, Jesus Christ. As we said above (v. 12), the disciples decided to receive in themselves the blessing promised by Christ through the beatitude he shared with Thomas (20:29). They were willing to believe without fully “seeing,” for seeing Christ was more than satisfactory.

The combination of doubt and faith presented by this verse is intended to be both prescriptive and encouraging. The contemporary Christian is no different than the disciples. Living the Christian life is to live in a constant combination of belief and doubt, of worshipping and wondering. This combination will only be finally overcome when the Lord appears to us at his return, when all questions and doubts are fully removed by the fullness of his presence.83 Until then, however, our faith is sustained by the trustworthiness of its object, Jesus Christ, whom we cannot fully know or see, yet in whom we believe. The testimony of the Gospel serves to facilitate this faith, as does what the Reformers called the internal testimony of the Spirit (testimonium internum Spiritus Sancti). By this we see and know, even if not yet fully. It is ultimately the objectivity of Christ that silences the subjectivity of everything else.