In John’s Gospel, the very first time Jesus lays eyes on Simon and invites him to take up a new profession—namely, fishing for people—Jesus also informs him that he’ll be doing so with a new identity. From here on out, he will be known as Cephas, which is Aramaic for Peter, and which, in the Greek, means “rock.” Peter the Rock. But whenever Jesus meant business, he usually reverted back to Peter’s birth name and addressed him as “Simon, son of John”—kind of the way my mother used to call me “Robert Samuel” whenever she wanted to make sure I was really paying attention!

A good example of this is at Caesarea Philippi, when Jesus begins to inquire about the word on the street. “Who do people say that I am?” he asks the disciples. They quickly rattle off a number of possibilities—apparently thinking this is a multiple-choice question. “Some say John the Baptist returned from the dead; others think Elijah, or maybe Jeremiah. It sort of depends on whom you ask,” they seem to agree.

“Well, I’m asking you,” replies Jesus. “Who do YOU say that I am?” At which point, the silence becomes deafening, until good old, impulsive Peter weighs in with a rock-solid profession of faith. “You are the Christ,” he blurts out, “the Son of the living God!”

It was a gutsy thing to say, and everybody knew it. In some circles it would have been considered blasphemy, which is why, instead of calling him Peter, Jesus responds, “Blessed are you, Simon, son of John”—indicating both that the answer was correct, and that Jesus wanted to make sure Peter was paying attention to it.

Of course, Peter won’t always be so bold. There is that time in the high priest’s courtyard, during Jesus’ interrogation, when Peter is warming himself by the fire, and a young girl decides to launch into her own interrogation. Three times she asks him if he has any connection with the accused, because she’d swear he did; and each time Peter swears just as vehemently that he doesn’t know what in God’s name she’s talking about. And then, suddenly, the cock crows, reminding Peter of his failure to profess the faith when it really counts; and the tears run down his face like rain washing over a rock.

He gets a chance to redeem himself, though, following the resurrection, when the Risen Christ appears to the disciples on the beach at daybreak. After breakfast, he turns to Peter—only, once again, he calls him, “Simon, son of John,” because if there was ever a time when Peter needed to pay attention, that was it—and asks him three times, “Do you love me?”

Some have suggested that Peter’s threefold affirmation, here at the end, is meant to make up for his threefold denial earlier—and I’m sure that’s part of it. But I also think that Jesus may have been doing what he could to restore Peter’s confidence, so that, from here on out, his faith would be as sturdy and unmovable as a rock!