We have made it to the end of John. But in many ways, the end of John’s Gospel is only the beginning for us. Over these past months, we have walked with Jesus through His ministry, His miracles, His suffering, His death, and His Resurrection. Now, in the final chapter, He leaves us with a question that I find perhaps the most personal and challenging of all: Do you love Me?
I want to focus on one moment in this chapter, the conversation between Jesus and Peter. Three times Jesus asks Peter if he loves Him. Most biblical scholars recognize the connection between these three questions and Peter’s three denials. Three times Peter denied knowing Jesus, and three times Jesus gives him the opportunity to profess his love. St. Augustine saw something beautiful in this exchange. Where Peter had once denied Christ out of fear, he was now being called to shepherd Christ’s flock out of love. Fear had led him to betrayal; love would lead him to faithfulness.
But I believe there is something more here, something that challenges each of us in the way we live our Christian lives.
In English, Jesus appears to ask the same question three times. But in Greek, John uses two different words for love. The first two times Jesus asks Peter, He uses agapaō, a word often associated with committed, self-giving love, a love expressed through loyalty, sacrifice, and action. Peter responds with phileō, a word that can emphasize personal affection, friendship, and the closeness we feel toward someone we hold dear. On the third question, Jesus Himself uses phileō. Biblical scholars disagree about how much significance John intends in this distinction, but I find the contrast worth contemplating.
Consider the conversation in that light.
Jesus first asks Peter, “Do you love Me more than these?” We might hear Him asking, “Peter, are you truly committed to Me? Will you remain loyal? Are you prepared to accept the responsibility I am giving you?” Peter responds, in effect, “Lord, You know how dearly I love You. You are my friend, my brother, someone I hold close to my heart.” Jesus tells him to feed His lambs. Nourish those who belong to Me.
Jesus asks again, “Do you love Me?” Again, we might hear a question about commitment and faithfulness. Peter responds with the same expression of personal affection. Jesus tells him to tend His sheep. Do not simply feed them; shepherd them, protect them, and care for them.
Then Jesus asks a third time, now using Peter’s own word for love. We might hear something profoundly personal: “Peter, do you hold Me dear? Do you love Me as a friend?” Peter, distressed by the third question, replies, “Lord, You know everything; You know that I love You.” And Jesus tells him once more to feed His sheep.
What strikes me is that Jesus does not simply ask Peter whether he is prepared to do the work. He asks whether Peter loves Him. The responsibility Jesus gives Peter is enormous, but the foundation of that responsibility is not ambition, discipline, or even duty alone. It is love.
St. Augustine understood this beautifully. He taught that shepherding Christ’s flock must be an office of love. Peter was not being given sheep of his own; he was being entrusted with sheep who belonged to Jesus. His love for Christ was to become love for those Christ entrusted to him. That is a lesson for every one of us. We cannot claim to love Jesus while remaining indifferent to the people He loves.
Throughout John’s Gospel, Jesus has revealed a love that is deeply personal. He does not love humanity merely as some great collective project. He loves individuals. He knew the Samaritan woman. He wept for Lazarus. He washed the feet of His disciples. He called them His friends. He loved them personally, intimately, and completely.
Jesus did not come into the world merely to fulfill an obligation. He came in loving obedience to His Father and out of a love for us so great that He willingly endured the Cross. We are not simply souls to be saved or names on some heavenly list. We matter to Him. Each of us. Personally.
And that brings me to the challenge I want to leave with all of you.
Do we live our Christian lives because we are supposed to, or because we love Jesus?
Basel says this. A slave obeys because he fears punishment. A hired servant obeys because he expects a reward. But a child obeys because he loves his father. All three may perform the same action, but their hearts are in very different places. The goal of our Christian life is to move beyond obedience motivated merely by fear or reward and toward the freedom of children who love their Father.
Do we attend church because it is Sunday, or because we long to be with Him? Do we pray because it is part of our routine, or because we want to speak with someone we love? Do we avoid sin because we fear punishment, or because we cannot bear the thought of betraying the One who loves us?
Think about that last question. When we look upon the scourged body of Jesus, we see what our sins have cost Him. Every lash across His back reminds us of the suffering He willingly endured for us. Sin is not merely the violation of an objective moral law. It is also a betrayal of love, a wound in our relationship with the One who gave everything for us. We should turn away from sin not simply because we fear its consequences, but because we love Jesus and do not want to offend Him.
If Jesus were merely our judge, we might obey Him out of fear. If He were merely our king, we might serve Him out of duty. But He has called us His friends. Through Him we have become children of His Father. We are family.
When someone we love is suffering, we do not ask whether we have an obligation to help. We help because we love them. When someone we love needs us, we do not calculate what duty requires. Love moves us to act. And even on the days when we do not feel that love, we remain faithful because true love is more than an emotion. It is a choice to give ourselves to another.
This is what I hear in Jesus’ final conversation with Peter. His three questions restore Peter, but they also prepare him for a lifetime of service and ultimately martyrdom. Immediately after Peter professes his love, Jesus tells him that a day will come when others will lead him where he does not want to go. John tells us that Jesus was indicating the kind of death by which Peter would glorify God. Then Jesus says simply, “Follow Me.”
Think about how extraordinary that is. At the Last Supper, Peter had promised Jesus that he would lay down his life for Him. Yet only hours later, he denied even knowing Him. Now, standing before the risen Christ, Peter is given another opportunity. His love will no longer be merely a promise spoken in a moment of confidence. It will become a lifetime of sacrifice, service, and faithfulness, even unto death.
Peter’s affection must become action. His friendship must become sacrifice. His love must become obedience. And what Jesus asks of Peter, He asks of us.
We have spent these months learning about Jesus. We have studied His words, examined His miracles, and reflected on His death and Resurrection. We have grown in our understanding of who He is. But understanding Jesus and loving Jesus are not the same thing. Knowledge can bring us closer to Him, but knowledge alone is not the destination.
The destination is communion with Him. A love so personal that it changes how we think, how we act, how we treat others, and how we respond when He calls us.
As we close John’s Gospel, I want each of us to imagine Jesus sitting across from us, looking into our eyes, and asking the same question He asked Peter.
“Do you love Me?”
Not simply, “Do you believe in Me?” Not simply, “Do you understand My teachings?” Not even, “Have you obeyed My commandments?”
But, “Do you love Me?”
And if our answer is yes, then we must be prepared for what comes next.
“Feed My sheep.”
Our love for Christ must become love in action. Not simply because we have a duty to serve, but because the One asking us to serve is someone we love.
John begins his Gospel by telling us that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us. He ends with that same Word, risen from the dead, looking into the eyes of a man who betrayed Him and asking whether he loves Him.
We began this journey by discovering who Jesus is. We end by being asked whether we love Him.
And perhaps that is the greatest challenge we can leave with one another. To stop treating Christianity merely as something we practice and begin living it as a relationship with someone we love.
Because in the end, Jesus asks for more than our knowledge, our service, or our obedience. He asks for our hearts. And when we give Him our hearts, our obedience becomes an expression of love.
His final words to Peter are the same invitation He extends to each of us:
“Follow Me.”
