We are a society that looks for laughs in all places. The Bible is serious about salvation, not a laughing matter. However, the gospel of John ends with a touch of humor in the form of irony. Jesus addressing the leader of the apostles called him not by the affectionate nickname Peter, but Simon Johnson, as we today would say, asking him “Do you love me?” The Lord is offering an opportunity to renew the friendship they had before the three denials. This is a formal meeting. Regardless of the great affection that our Lord held out to Peter—indeed, because of the love He had for the fisherman that He selected above all the others to be the leader of the flock after He had been taken into the kingdom of His Father—this was not the place for a forgiveness without some show of repentance, or at least regret for his failure to stand by the One he called his Lord and Master on that night when it meant so much to have somebody to share His ordeal. We sense a certain aloofness, and we know the reason—the three denials of Christ that traumatic night of the arrest, and Peter’s grief at his betrayal. Here for the third time the same question: “Do you love Me?” Jesus said we must be like children to enter His Father’s Kingdom, and Peter demonstrates one aspect of a child. He had put behind the incident of betrayal and the remorse that came with it. He’s exasperated at having to answer the same question over again. Isn’t once enough? Surely the all-knowing Messiah is aware of Peter’s affection.<?p>“Again Jesus said, ‘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’” (John 21:17)
In a modern parody, the musical Fiddler on the Roof, we find Tevye asking the same question of our Lord, but to his patient wife Golda: “Do you ‘luff’ me?” Like St. Peter she considers it a question needing no response, because the answer is obvious. “Do I love him?” Then, a recital of all the ways she has shown her affection as wife, mother, housekeeper, clothes washer, cook; in a word, her love is an ongoing demonstration of her devotion. Yet he has the nerve to pretend a blind oblivion to the manifestation of her adoration. Her love is total, but like many men, he just cannot see it.
The evangelist John is showing his reader that our Lord Jesus is forgiving, ordaining and commissioning the chief apostle all in one series of questions and answers; but St. Peter doesn’t get it. Jesus is looking beyond the moment of confrontation, envisioning the future. He will watch over the apostles from another remove, but St. Peter will recover from the Q&A incident, reflecting on its import, and more important, take the gospel of Jesus Christ from Jerusalem to Samaria and as far as Rome; nay, not always take the message as a free man—rather, he will in his mature years be arrested and led to where he would not choose to go. The Son of God perceived all that. Surely He forgave Peter’s moment of weakness and the testiness of the exchange with the Lord. He will indeed prove his love of Christ in countless demonstrations, acting in place of the Lord of love among the people Jesus calls His own lambs. Another musical, My Fair Lady, has the ingénue Eliza Doolittle, exasperated like St. Peter with the same incessant question from her mentor and ultimate lover, Professor Henry Higgins, crying out: “Don’t talk of love, show me!” Golda is telling Tevye—I’ve been showing you my love from our wedding. And our Lord Jesus Christ is essentially saying somewhat the same to St. Peter—show Me how you love Me.