Last week we celebrated Resurrection Sunday, and this morning I want to build on that — because the resurrection was not just a moment in history. It was the beginning of something new.

After Jesus rose from the dead, he didn't disappear into heaven. He stayed. He sought out his disciples and appeared to them in the most personal and unexpected ways. And what he said and what he did during those appearances reveals a great deal about who he is and what he expects from us.

And so over the next four weeks, we will examine four of those resurrection appearances. Each one will challenge common statements — things that sound reasonable, or even spiritual, but that the Bible never actually said.

Today, we are starting with this one: "It doesn't matter what you do."

Maybe you have heard that. Maybe someone said it to you during a season of career counseling, or when you were carrying guilt over a bad decision. Maybe you said it to yourself as a way of letting yourself off the hook. Or maybe someone well-meaning said it as an act of grace, trying to communicate that God loves you no matter what — and that part is true. God does love you no matter what. But the idea that what you do simply doesn't matter — that is not in the Bible. In fact, there is one resurrection appearance that makes that clearer than almost anywhere else in Scripture.

I want to talk to you about Peter this morning, because he has literally had the worst week of his life.

He was creeping around in the shadows, following Jesus at a distance, and found himself sitting around a fire in the high priest's courtyard while Jesus was on trial inside. Three times, different people questioned him. The first two times, the challenge was the same:

"You are not one of his disciples, are you?" (John 18:17, 25).

The third time, it was a relative of the man whose ear Peter had cut off in the garden. He looked straight at Peter and said:

"Didn't I see you with him in the olive grove?" (John 18:26).

And three times Peter said no, denying that he even knew Jesus. Then Luke tells us what happened next:

"Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: 'Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times.' And he went outside and wept bitterly" (Luke 22:60-62).

Meanwhile, Jesus was taken to Pilate, who washed his hands of the entire affair and sent Jesus to be crucified. He was buried on Friday, Saturday was quiet, but early the next morning the resurrection occurred. Mary Magdalene went to the tomb and found the stone rolled away. She ran to the disciples and said:

"They have taken the Lord out of the tomb, and we don't know where they have put him!" (John 20:2).

Peter jumped up and ran to the tomb. Luke tells us that he bent over, saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and went away wondering what had happened (Luke 24:12). Obviously, something had occurred, but Peter was not yet sure what to make of it.

Something in him was still broken. Something in him felt disqualified. And so Peter did what a lot of us do when we are carrying shame and don't know what else to do.

He went back to what he knew before Jesus called him.

John tells us what happened next. Peter said to the other disciples:

"I'm going out to fish." They said, "We'll go with you." So they went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing (John 21:3).

Early in the morning, Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples did not recognize him. He called out to them:

"Friends, haven't you any fish?" "No," they answered. He said, "Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some." When they did, they were unable to haul the net in because of the large number of fish (John 21:5-6).

Then something shifted. John tells us:

"The disciple whom Jesus loved said to Peter, 'It is the Lord!' As soon as Simon Peter heard him say, 'It is the Lord,' he wrapped his outer garment around him and jumped into the water" (John 21:7).

In other words, Peter does not wait for the boat. He swims to shore because whatever shame he was carrying, whatever failure he was holding on to, the pull of Jesus was stronger.

When they arrive on shore, Jesus already has a fire of burning coals with fish and some bread prepared.

"Jesus said to them, 'Come and have breakfast'" (John 21:12).

Now, here is something I don't want you to miss. Back in John chapter 18, when Peter stood in that courtyard and denied Jesus three times, John tells us there was a fire burning there (John 18:18). And now, here on the shore, Jesus has prepared another fire. This is no coincidence, because Jesus isn't just feeding Peter breakfast. He is taking him back to the moment of his greatest failure and doing something about it.

When they had finished eating, Jesus asked Peter a question — and he asked it three times.

"Simon, son of John, do you truly love me more than these?" (John 21:15).

"Simon, son of John, do you truly love me?" (John 21:16).

"Simon, son of John, do you love me?" (John 21:17).

Jesus is not rubbing Peter's face in his failure. He is giving Peter a chance to replace every denial with an affirmation — three denials, three declarations of love. And every time Peter says yes, Jesus responds the same way:

"Feed my lambs. Take care of my sheep. Feed my sheep" (John 21:15-17).

And so Jesus restores Peter and, immediately in the same breath, gives him back his assignment.

In other words, he is saying, "Peter, I didn't come to the beach this morning just to make you breakfast. I came because you have work to do. The calling I placed on your life did not disappear when you failed — but you can't fulfill it from a fishing boat."

What you do matters.

You see, Peter's failure was serious enough that Jesus addressed it directly. Peter's calling was significant enough that Jesus personally reinstated it. And Peter's obedience going forward was important enough that Jesus told him exactly what it would cost him.

Now I want to pause here for a moment, because what Peter did is something a lot of us understand more than we want to admit. When shame gets heavy enough, when the failure feels big enough, we go back to something familiar. We go back to what was there before Jesus called us — and for some people, that something is a bottle or a substance.

Clearly, no one plans to ruin their life. You wouldn't wake up and think, today I am going to make choices that will cost me everything — but that is exactly what happens when we seek comfort in the wrong places. Peter didn't intend to stay in that fishing boat forever. He was just hurting and didn't know what else to do, and that is exactly where alcohol presents its most convincing argument.

You see, alcohol promises courage when you are afraid, happiness when you are hurting, and relief from the voices that won't stop. It may seem to deliver — at least for a little while — but what it actually does is dim the lights. It doesn't make the problem go away. It just temporarily turns off your ability to see it clearly. When the lights come back on, everything you were trying to escape is still there, and now you have added something else to carry.

Most people who struggle with alcohol started drinking when they were young — teenagers who hadn't yet learned how to face life's difficulties without something to dull the pain. Before their minds had a chance to develop and learn how to navigate the hard times, they found this one, and it is a hard thing to unlearn. So if that is your story, or the story of someone you love, there is no condemnation here — but there is a better way.

The apostle Paul puts it plainly in Ephesians chapter 5:

"Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit" (Ephesians 5:18).

Paul is not necessarily saying that wine itself is the problem, even though we do know that alcohol is a poison to the body, causing men’s testosterone levels to plummet and taking a serious toll on physical health. What he is saying is this: don’t look there for what can only come from God.

In other words, what people are really seeking when they drink — courage, happiness, relief, the sense that everything is going to be okay — is exactly what the Holy Spirit actually provides. Not by dimming the lights, but by opening your eyes wider. Not by numbing the pain, but by giving you the power to walk through it.

There is a story in 2 Kings chapter 6 that illustrates this perfectly. The prophet Elisha and his servant Gehazi are surrounded by a vast enemy army as far as the eye can see. Gehazi is terrified, and he cries out:

"Oh, my lord, what shall we do?" (2 Kings 6:15).

Now, Elisha could have handed him a bottle and said, "Drink this and you'll feel better." And it might have seemed to work, at least for a little while, because it would have taken his attention off of what frightened him. But that is not what Elisha did. Instead, Elisha prayed:

"O Lord, open his eyes so he may see." Then the Lord opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha" (2 Kings 6:17).

Those angel armies were always there — Gehazi just couldn't see them until God opened his eyes. The resources of heaven were surrounding him the entire time. The protection was already in place. The victory was already secured. He just needed his eyes to be opened to see it.

And that is the difference. Alcohol closes your eyes to the problem and tells you it has gone away. The Holy Spirit opens your eyes to what God has already placed around you and gives you the faith to believe that he is greater than anything you are facing.

We see this lived out on the Day of Pentecost when the Holy Spirit was poured out and the disciples began to preach boldly and worship openly. The crowd watching them said:

"They have had too much wine" (Acts 2:13).

Then Peter — the same Peter who had warmed himself by that fire and denied even knowing Jesus — stood up and addressed the crowd:

"These men are not drunk, as you suppose. It's only nine in the morning! No, this is what was spoken by the prophet Joel: 'In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people. Your sons and daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, your old men will dream dreams'" (Acts 2:15-17).

In other words, Peter is saying, "What you are seeing is not what you think it is. You are seeing real boldness, real courage, real joy — what people go looking for when they drink, but from the only source that can actually deliver it."

In fact, just before he ascended to heaven, Jesus told his disciples exactly why the Holy Spirit was coming. He said:

"You will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1:8).

The Holy Spirit doesn't fill you just so you feel good. The Holy Spirit fills you so you can be a witness. So that you can do what God called you to do. So you can get out of the boat and get back to work.

And what is that work? Jesus told us clearly in one of his resurrection appearances. In Matthew chapter 28, he appeared to his disciples and said:

"All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore, go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you" (Matthew 28:18-20).

I want you to notice that Jesus doesn't say, "Go if you feel ready," or "Go when you have it all figured out." He says all authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me — therefore, on the basis of that authority, go. In other words, the power behind the assignment is not yours. It is his. And then he gives a promise that covers every moment:

"And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age" (Matthew 28:20).

That is our assignment. And Paul tells us in 2 Corinthians what it looks like up close:

"We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us. We implore you on Christ's behalf: Be reconciled to God" (2 Corinthians 5:20).

We are ambassadors, ministers of reconciliation. That is the Great Commission made personal. It is not just something that happens on a mission trip overseas. It is the person sitting next to you at work. It is your neighbor. It is the family member who doesn't know Jesus yet. You are the one God placed in their life — and that assignment matters.

But here is something important to understand. You were never meant to carry that assignment alone. God did not save you and then send you out into the world by yourself. He placed you in a body — the ecclesia, the church — and it exists specifically to build you up and equip you for the work he has called you to do.

The apostle Paul lays this out in Ephesians chapter 4, telling us that the purpose of every pastor, every teacher, every leader God places in the church is:

"To prepare God's people for works of service" (Ephesians 4:12).

Not to do the work for you, but to prepare you to do it. The goal is maturity — the whole body growing up together into the fullness of Christ. And that cannot happen if you are out on the boat by yourself.

This is exactly why the writer of Hebrews makes such a pointed appeal to believers:

"Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another — and all the more as you see the Day approaching" (Hebrews 10:25).

Notice the urgency. As we get closer to the return of Christ, we need each other more, not less. The days we are living in are not times to drift away from the body. They are times to press in, to show up, to encourage and be encouraged — because the mission is too important and the enemy is too relentless for any of us to try to go it alone.

Peter went back to the boat, back to fishing, and took six other disciples with him — even though Jesus had called him with these words:

"Come, follow me, and I will make you fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19).

Discouragement is contagious. When one person retreats, others follow. When one person gives up, it becomes easier for everyone around them to give up too. But here is the good news — restoration is just as contagious. When one person encounters the risen Jesus and gets back on their feet, it has a way of pulling others up with them.

And the church is where that happens. The church is not a museum for perfect people. It is a shoreline where Jesus meets broken people, where he has a fire already burning, where breakfast is already prepared, and where he looks you in the eye and says, "I didn't come here just to feed you. I came because you have work to do." The church is where people who have returned to old habits and old lives discover that their calling never expired — and that there is a community ready to walk back into it with them.

You see, what you do matters.

It mattered enough that Jesus made a special resurrection appearance at the beach to find one discouraged fisherman and call him back. It mattered enough that he built a fire, cooked a meal, and asked the same question three times until every denial was covered by a declaration of love. It mattered enough that he looked Peter in the eye and said:

"Feed my sheep" (John 21:17).

If you have been telling yourself that it doesn't matter what you do — whether because of guilt, shame, discouragement, or a habit you thought was behind you — I want you to hear Jesus this morning the way Peter heard him on that shore.

He already has a fire going. He is not waiting to condemn you. He is waiting to restore you. And the moment you respond to him, he is going to give you back your assignment — because it has always mattered what you do. It mattered then, it matters now, and it will matter for eternity.

You are the church. The ekklesia. That Greek word literally means "called out ones." You have been called out of darkness, gathered together with other believers, and sent into the world on mission with Jesus.

"We are therefore Christ's ambassadors, as though God were making his appeal through us" (2 Corinthians 5:20).

There are people in your life right now who need what only you can bring them. Your neighbor needs you. Your coworker needs you. That family member who doesn't know Jesus yet needs you. The Bible never said it doesn't matter what you do. Jesus said, "Feed my sheep" — and he is saying it still.

So let me ask you this morning — what have you been up to? Have you gone back to the boat? Have you picked up something you thought you put down? Have you told yourself that it just doesn't matter anymore, that you have failed too many times, that the calling God put on your life is now for somebody else?

Jesus got up early that morning and walked down to that shore. He did not send a messenger. He did not write a letter. He showed up personally, built a fire, cooked breakfast, and waited for Peter. And when Peter saw him, he did not wait for the boat. He jumped in and swam. He seized that moment.

And that moment is available to you right now.

That same Jesus is here this morning. He already has a fire going. He is not here to condemn you. He is not here to remind you of what you did. He is here to restore you and to give you back your ministry.

Because what you do matters. It matters to him. It matters to the people in your life who are still waiting for someone to bring them the good news. It matters to the family that needs to see Jesus in you. It matters to the coworker who is one conversation away from surrendering their life to Christ. It matters to eternity.

Don't go back to the boat. The shore is right here, the fire is already burning, and Jesus is waiting.

Graphics, notes, and commentary from LifeChurch, Ministry Pass, PC Study Bible, Preaching Library, and Sermon Central. Scripture from the New International Version unless otherwise noted.