On this third Sunday in Easter, the Scripture reading from John 21:1-19 invites us to both continue celebrating Jesus’ resurrection and to recognize Jesus’ presence among us in the midst of ordinary life. After the excitement of the resurrection, the disciples go fishing, then Jesus invites them to a picnic on the beach. Today’s sermon explore Jesus’ command to Peter and to us: “Feed my sheep.” How do we live out that command as God’s people in this hurting and broken world?
I was greatly inspired by Isaac Villegas’ article Resurrection, Then Breakfast in the May 2025 issue of The Christian Century. The livestream at Christ the King seems to have only captured the last 20 minutes of worship this week, so here’s the podcast audio and livestream from Living Hope, followed by the text of the sermon on feeding sheep.
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Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Risen Lord, Jesus Christ. Amen
As I read this week’s gospel from John 21, the big question I had is how do we feed sheep? Jesus says it three times, “Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep.” So, how do we do that?
I looked it up, and a 150 pound ewe needs three and a half pounds of alfalfa, clover, mixed, or grass hay. Two weeks prior to breeding season, supplement with a quarter to a half pound of corn, and avoid red clover. I grew up with horses, not sheep, so all that is according to the University of Pennsylvania.
This is what happens when you take the Bible literally, right? Sometimes you miss the point.
Today’s Gospel reading continues these stories of the disciples encountering the risen Jesus. Last week, we heard about Jesus surprising his disciples in a locked room on the night of Easter, then again a week later showing himself to Thomas.
Luke has a story about two other disciples unknowingly encountering Jesus on the road to Emmaus, then recognizing him in the breaking of the bread.
Now in John, we get this third appearance, which begins with the disciples fishing. Because that’s what they do, right? These are professional fishermen, at least some of them, so when they don’t know what else to do, they go fishing. This is how they make money.
“Resurrection is supposed to mean a new world. Easter is supposed to mark a new beginning, a new creation—the old passing away, all things reborn. How do the first disciples respond to Christ’s triumph over death? They return to the humdrum of their jobs. They go fishing…
The cosmos has been altered. There has been a shift in existence. Another world has broken through into this one….
The crucified Jesus walks out of the tomb, and the disciples figure that now is as good a time as any to pull an overnight shift at sea.”
This isn’t the kind of momentous change you might expect when a friend comes back from the dead.“
After Easter morning, there’s still the oppression of the Roman Empire, there’s still work, and there’s still breakfast.”
We can relate. We celebrate the good news, we sing Alleluia, we pray, we tell the story of Easter, yet life goes on. We believe God’s kingdom is near, Jesus has defeated death, broken the power of the grave, but I open the newspaper on Thursday and there are still obituaries.
We have a new, living hope, but the world is still broken. So the disciples go fishing.
And as they’re out there fishing—and by the way, it’s not going well. All night, and they’ve caught nothing—some guy on the shore hollers, “Hey, you don’t have any fish, do you?” They give him a one word answer: “No.”
“Have you tried throwing the net on the other side of the boat?”
I don’t fish—I know even less about fishing than I do about sheep—but logic tells me throwing a net on the other side of a small boat is not going to change how many fish you get. If they’re there, they swim around under the boat.
But they’re willing to try it. And suddenly, they have fish. Many, many fish.
And something about this experience rings a bell. When Jesus first called Peter, James, and John in Luke 5, they’d been out fishing and not caught anything, but when Jesus told them to let down the nets one more time, they caught so many fish their boats began to sink.
They realize this is Jesus, and Peter—this is my favorite detail—Peter puts on his clothes and jumps in the water to swim to shore. On shore, Jesus has breakfast ready for them. He doesn’t even need their fish, he already has some on the fire.
Another fun detail: There are 153 fish. Do you know the significance of that number? Neither does anyone else. The only significance anyone knows for that number is that that’s how many fish there were. Someone took the time to count. Why? Because they’re fisherman, and this how they make a living. Easter’s happened, the grave is empty, but good accounting is still important.
Anyway, after breakfast, Jesus asks Simon Peter, “Do you love me?” And Peter says “Yes, Lord, you know I love you.” Jesus says, “Feed my lambs.” Two more times he asks, “Do you love me?” Yes, Lord, You know I love you.” “Tend my sheep.” And again, “Feed my sheep.”
Peter is the disciple who’d three times denied even knowing Jesus, so there’s some beautiful significance to Jesus repeating these instructions three times. Especially to Peter, there’s a message of forgiveness and grace here, but the assignment isn’t just for him.
At church council, we’re just beginning a conversation about strategic planning and core values, but if we want a shortcut, that simple instruction “Feed my sheep” makes a great church mission statement. The church I interned at, St. Peter Lutheran in Dubuque, actually had “Feed My Sheep” carved on the wall in the front of their sanctuary.
Because this is what we’re supposed to do as church, right? Jesus is the good shepherd, and we are the sheep. And we’re called to join in God’s work of taking care of our fellow sheep, tending the lambs, caring for the flock of God’s children.
I sent out a message asking what feed my sheep means to you, and I got some wonderful responses. Thank you to everyone who answered.
One person took it as a reminder that we’re all in the same flock, we’re all on the same team following the same shepherd. Another said we have a spiritual void in us, and faith and community and God’s word fill that spiritual void.
Bonus points to the one person who asked for the chapter, because they wanted to read it in context before answering – always check the context when someone mentions just a few words from the Bible!
A lot of people took “Feed my sheep” spiritually, saying things like Jesus is telling us to feed the mind of the people and spread his teachings, do random acts of kindness and share God’s light, pray for others, nourish people through God’s word of life, listening to people, love all, and be kind, teaching kids to pray and reading with them, being examples of faith to grandchildren, those were a lot of the responses I got.
Others took “Feed my sheep” in a more practical direction. Jesus gives us a responsibility to care for, feed, and protect the innocents of the world, taking opportunities to share meals with others, the poor of course, but also friends, neighbors, and family.
We have people in our church who deliver Meals on Wheels, pack food for Feed My Starving Children, support food pantries, deliver food for Ozaukee Food Alliance.
I’m a little disappointed no one matched my sense of humor by sending me livestock feeding tips, although I did get a great story about a family raising a misfit lamb in their own house. Imagine if we saw our mission as bringing in outcasts and caring for them like family.
A few pointed out sheep need more than food—they need protection. They’re vulnerable, so our job is to protect and care for others, steer them away from harmful or poisonous plants, lift up those who are vulnerable, defend them against the wolves.
This is our mission as church, right? We say we do God’s work with our hands. We follow Jesus’ command: “Feed my sheep” in both spiritual and physical ways.
And remember, he’s telling this to Peter, the one on whom Jesus said he would build his church. This is our command as the body of Christ. We love like Jesus loves. We feed sheep. We love our neighbors.
And yes, that can sound cliche, even naive in the face of the big problems in this world. But this is our command. Even when the world’s falling apart. Even in the midst of grief and uncertainty. We reflect God’s love by feeding sheep.
Love is the answer to our brokenness, to the world’s hurt. God is love. Jesus came out of love. Jesus commanded us to love.
And sometimes proclaiming God’s love, sometimes feeding sheep looks like protests and campaigns and big donations. Sometimes we as a congregation might have opportunities to take big swings, start new ministries, feed lots of people at once. There are moments when the joy of Easter is easy to see.
But there are also times when we don’t know what to do but go fishing. Do the ordinary things of everyday life.
Someone said when they were younger, feeding sheep meant volunteering and helping people, but now in their 9th decade, it looks like praying and making phone calls. That’s an example of faith right there!
Prayer is the heart of feeding sheep, because the Good Shepherd is the one who’s really in charge, the one with the power to make a difference and change lives—we just get to be part of the work God is doing!
Another person said, when you see the one, you gather them, welcome them, feed them, no matter in what condition they come. Feeding one sheep at a time.
“Jesus at breakfast with his friends. It sounds underwhelming as a reason for the resurrection…Jesus conquers death so he can come back and be with his disciples, enjoy another meal, fellowship around the fire, linger with his friends for as long as he can.
But that’s what God has wanted from eternity: to be with us. Jesus returns from the dead because he wants another meal with his disciples—nothing too special, just some fish and bread passed around a charcoal fire. The Easter gospel is about that kind of ordinariness: Jesus, coming back from the dead to be with us as a gentle presence, nothing flashy, just there—here.
Christ is a steady and quiet here-ness, usually taken for granted, like our heartbeat, which we hardly notice because it’s so dependable. God’s love is an unassuming pulse at the heart of our lives. The crucified Jesus is now resurrected, and he wants nothing more than to feast with his friends.”
Thanks be to God for the Good Shepherd who watches over us, and who calls us to feed his sheep. Amen