Reflections on John 21:1–13 — Part I
The most obvious highlight of John 21:1–13 is the miraculous catch of fish.
The disciples have worked all night and caught nothing. They are tired, and perhaps discouraged. Then a man standing on the shore tells them to cast their net on the other side of the boat. They follow his instructions—even before recognizing that it is Jesus—and suddenly catch so many fish that they can barely haul in the net.
It is a beautiful reminder of Jesus’ power and provision. We can exhaust ourselves trying to make life work on our own, or learn to listen for and follow the One who sees what we cannot see.
But every time I read this passage, my attention cannot help but be drawn to two much quieter moments.
The first is in verse 3.
Peter says, “I’m going out to fish.”
And the other disciples simply respond, “We’ll go with you.”
That always catches me off guard.
Think about how unusual that response can sound in our culture. If I tell someone, “I’m going to do this,” I might expect, “That sounds fun!” or “Good luck!” or “Have a great time!”
If someone immediately said, “I’ll go with you,” I might even think: Wait—I wasn’t even inviting you. At least ask first! Lol…
There is so much I appreciate about a culture that respects personal space and boundaries. We generally try not to impose ourselves on other people, give unsolicited advice, or assume that we are invited into someone else’s plans.
And yet, I wonder if sometimes we lose something in the process.
Reading this verse brings me back to growing up in China, especially my middle-school years, when “I’ll go with you” was a much more natural response. You went places together. You accompanied one another. The community didn’t always have to be scheduled or formally invited. It simply happened because life was shared.
I miss some of that.
Maybe there is something beautiful about being the kind of friend who occasionally says, “I’ll go with you.” Not because you were formally invited. Not because there is something in it for you. But simply because someone you care about is going—and you would rather walk alongside them than send them off alone.
