Amanda likes to sleep in a crib. That wouldn’t be a big deal except that Amanda is 8 years old and, for the last 6 years, had been sleeping in her own big-girl bed. She also recently starting wetting the bed, talking like a baby and sucking her thumb. Can you guess why? Amanda recently got a brand new baby brother, and she feels neglected by her parents. What Amanda is going through is called “Regression.”Regression happens when a person is faced with a stressful, difficult, or troubling situation and, instead of reacting in an age-appropriate way, they retreat to some type of action or place that once gave them the comforting feeling they are now lacking.
A young wife running to her parent’s house after her first fight with her husband is an example of regression. Someone who is overly stressed falling down to the floor, wrapping their arms around them and rocking and crying, maybe like they did when they were a child and their mother used to hold them is another. It’s not always harmful. Regression can be as simple as a college student cuddling with their old, beat up teddy bear every night as they fall asleep in the dorm. It’s only bad when you’re using it as an excuse to avoid situations you should address. The goal of regression, though, is always the same - to make you feel better by taking you away from whatmakes you vulnerable and taking you back to a place that used to make you feel safe.
Sigmund Freud is the one who came up with the concept of regression, which means that none of the disciples would have been diagnosed with it. But it seems that, on some level, they could have been on the night we read about earlier when they were fishing.
As far as we know, this was the first time the disciples had been out fishing since Jesus called them to leave their boats 3 years before then. Before Jesus came, for many of them, fishing was their life; their source of happiness, pride, friendships and income; all of which they lost the moment they listened to Jesus and followed him as he took them on the most uplifting and discouraging, invigorating and disappointing, happiest and saddest, sometimes comfortable but usually painful 3 years of their lives.
And it seems that, even after Jesus rose from the dead and told them it was all good, coming off the most up-and-down, emotionally exhausting weekend of their lives, they started to ask themselves if it wasreally worth the ongoing emotional rollercoaster ride. It seems that it was all a bit much for them.
And what do you do when you find yourself a bit overwhelmed, uncomfortable, frustrated, irritated, when you’re hearing criticism for your hard work, when your time-put-in hasn’t really produced any good thing that you’ve noticed, when the people you thought would support you are the ones making life difficult for you; when, like the disciples, you question if you’ve really made the best career decision or, like Peter, you still have some serious regrets about what you did when you were in this position? Maybe you don’t call it “regression.” Maybe you just tell yourself, “It’s not worth it.” You give up. Throw in the towel. Go back to the old life. Backslide. Stop trying. Stop talking to certain people. Stop caring. Go back to what’s safe. In some way, you go fishing. But you’ll catch nothing.
How many fish did our professional fisherman disciples catch on their own while trying to get away from the chaos of the post-resurrection? Zero. And how many did they catch after listening to Jesus tell them where to throw their nets? 153. Jesus wasn’t telling them he was the better fisherman. He was making a point that he cares about where they’re going. Jesus doesn’t want you to regress. He doesn’t want you to feel that your best hope for something good is your past. It’s up ahead. It’s in whatever he has in store for us, whatever calling he gives us. It’s in following him; a lesson he taught very clearly in a conversation with Peter around a fire of coals and a meal of bread and fish.
(15) When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?” “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 truly 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.” Do you remember the last time Peter jumped out of a boat to see Jesus? It was when Jesus allowed Peter to walk on water, an incredible moment in his life. The first time Jesus called Peter from a boat was 3 years earlier, when his whole world was flipped upside-down. After that moment, Peter saw the dead raised, the sick healed, 5000 hungry mouths fed, the glory of God on the Mount of Transfiguration; even his own mother-in-law was healed when touched by this man – so many things he had never imagined.
And here, when Peter saw Jesus standing on the shore once again, it all came rushing back to him. He realized how stupid he had been; that running away from the Lord means running away from the one man who gave him joy and peace like no one else had or can. So, impulsive Peter jumped from the boat once again, probably expecting to walk on water, but ended up swimming, fully clothed, 100 yards, which only seemed like a few feet because of how fast his happy adrenaline was pumping. He gets to shore, runs to Jesus dripping wet, ready to rededicate himself to this wonderful man, and what does Jesus do? He poured some salt in his very fresh wounds. He asks Peter three times if he really does love him. Can you guess why Jesus asked Peter if he loved him 3 times? It’s because the last time Peter was sitting around a fire of coals, Peter basically said that he did not love Jesus … 3 times.
This may surprise you, but Jesus actually asked Peter if he “loved” him only two times. And Peter didn’t say that he “loved” Jesus even once. In Greek, there are three words for “love.” Two of them are used here in these three verses. The word “agape” means unconditional love, the type of love God has for us; the type of love that looks at a criminal hanging on a cross who has been ungodly his entire life and, with his dying breath, promises that thief heaven. Agape love doesn’t care how the other person treats you. They could stab you with nails and hang you from a tree; you might understand fully everything that’s wrong with them, and you will still want nothing more than to make them happy.
There’s also the word “Philia,” which, compared to Agape, isn’t so much “love” as it is a really strong “like.” You like someone, and they like you. They make you happy, you like being happy, and so, as long as they continue to make you happy, it’s easy for you to make them happy. Not quite as special as the “agape” love.
Both words are used here, the word for “love” and the word for “like,” and there’s a big difference between “love” and “like.” There’s a Miller Lite commercial on the radio that I think brings out that difference pretty well. They say, “At Miller Lite, we make a great tasting pilsner beer that guys love, and there’s a big difference between love and like. Anyone want to set sail on the Like Boat? If Joanie just liked Chachi; Sunday, Monday, Tuesday,unHappy Days. If I just liked Lucy, then Ricky would probably never come home. And, if he did, then he’d have some e’splainin’ to do. If Hannibal only liked it when a plan came together, he’d be a member of the B-Team. If Philadelphia were the city of brotherly like, I’d hop the first train to Pittsburgh.” I think you get the point.
There’s a difference between “love” and “like,” and Peter knew it. I’m going to change the words to reflect the meanings for the different words. Here’s how the conversation went. (15) When they had finished eating, Jesus said to Simon Peter, “Simon son of John, do you love me more than these?” “Yes, Lord,” he said, you know that I like you.”
Have you ever told someone that you love them and have them respond by saying, “I really like you too”? It doesn’t feel so great, does it? Of course, not long ago Peter was emphatic that he did love Jesus more than any of these other disciples. “Everyone else might fall away, but I never will,” Peter promised. “Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you.” But within just a few hours, the rooster crowed, and he did. Three times already by that point. Jesus’ eyes snapped across the courtyard, met his, and Peter knew. He didn’t love Jesus. Not like he said. And even now, many days after that moment, Peter wanted to say he did. But, in his heart, he couldn’t.
Put yourself in Peter’s shoes. Do you love Jesus more than these? Compared to other Christians, what does your heart tell you? You promised you’d be there too. You promised you’d never stray. You promised to come every week. There are Christians who do. You said you would change, that you would do better, that, next time, you wouldn’t give in; that you would give sacrificially, that you would show with the money God has entrusted to you that, compared to anything else in all creation, Jesus means more to you. I could tell you a lot of Christians who do. You made a resolution to read your bible and pray more. You only skip a day here and there. There are so many who don’t. If Jesus were to say, “Do you love me more than these,” you would look into his holy eyes and say, “Lord, you know that I … do”? Peter couldn’t. He knew the truth, which is what he was trying to get away from. Jesus didn’t let him. He went on with the next question.
(16) Again Jesus said, “Simon son of John, do you love me?” “Yes, Lord,” Peter replied, “you know that I like you.” Forget about comparing you to other Christians. Jesus is asking Peter if he loves him at all. Compare yourself to what someone who really does love Jesus should be doing. “Love your enemies,” Jesus said. Peter cut off his ear. “Hold your temper.” Peter’s never got better. The people in the courtyard at least acknowledged that they knew Jesus. Peter swore up and down, “I don’t know that man at all.”
Jesus was humble as humble could be, never thinking of himself, but only you and me. To answer Jesus’ question, we instantly start thinking only about ourselves, trying to categorize our moments into good, not so good, bad, not so bad, sometimes bad depending on whose asking, possibly good if you understand what they did to me first; when, in reality, every split second of our lives fits into only one of two categories – worthy of hell or perfectly holy. Jesus asks, “Do you love me? At all?” You want to say that you do. In your heart, you crave him. A lot. Today you’re here to learn from him. You pray to him. You need him. But the questions is: Do you love him? What if he would say, “Then show me?” How many things in your average day would need to change? For Peter, the last week had proven that it was a lot, which is why the third question hurt so much.
After the third question it says Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you love me.” ButJesus didn’t ask him the third time if he loved him. Peter was hurt because Jesus asked him the third time, “Do you [even] like me?” And, by this time, Peter had to have noticed that, with every question, Jesus didn’t call Peter “Peter.” He called him “Simon.” Simon was his given name. “Peter” was the special name Jesus had given him, the name that means “rock, sturdy, reliable.” But here, he called him Simon because rocks don’t normally roll away from their foundation, not if they like where they’re standing.
Look at the people with whom you’re worshipping today. Take a moment and try to make eye contact with as many as you can. Do the same with the people in your home and those with whom you work. “Whatever you have or haven’t done to the least of these, that’s what you’re doing to me,” Jesus said. How often is the cause of your regression the people we’re supposed to be loving? If there’s someone you avoid when coming into church, then, really, you’re avoiding him. If you give the cold shoulder to someone who rubs you the wrong way, then, really, you’re giving the cold shoulder to him. If you’re less-than-lovingto someone who sinned against you, someone with whom you don’t see eye-to-eye, someone who’s been a thorn in your side, someone you don’t even like, well … do you even like him?
Are you any different or better than Simon, this little boy who thought he was a man; this fragile, guilty soul to whom Jesus addressed these questions, and into whose bloodshot eyes he looked when he said, “You, Simon, feed my lambs”? “I want you to take care of my most precious possessions.”
Lindsey is an 8-year-old girl who lives with her mother. Her mom has to work two jobs to support them, neither of them very well-paying. Mom made an arrangement with the neighbors that Lindsey could go to their house after school until she got home from work. After a few weeks, the husband at the neighbor’s house, who was the only one home when she arrived from school, began doing very bad things to Lindsey. She told her mom. Mom didn’t believe her. Lindsey regressed in ways that weren’t very good.
They say that the best way to bring hurting children out of regression is to set aside special time for them, tell them that you need them; look them in the eye and promise them you’re not going to define them by their past (and neither should they). Tell them they have a future that’s too important and that you’re going there every step of the way with them.
“I need you to feed my lambs,” Jesus told Simon, after Simon confessed every denial and sin that he couldn’t get away from. “I need you to build my church,” he told Paul, whose past included killing Christians. “I need you to raise your children well,” he says to parents. “I need you to love your spouse,” he tells wives and husbands. “Let no debt remain outstanding except the continuing debt to love one another,” he tells his friends. “Forgive each other from the heart; forgive yourself,” he tells everyone. We have a future free of death, mourning, crying and pain that’s too important to let our pasts keep us from going in.
You have a past? You have regrets? You ever want to regress? You feel like sliding back or giving up? Go fishing. Go fishing for an empty grave and a bloody cross that used to hold a holy friendwho came alive for only one reason–to reinstate, forgive and restore you like no one else ever has or can, so that you and every one of his precious lambs can know that you have a future with him that no one, no past and no thing can ever take away.