The Sunday gospel lectionary reading for the Third Sunday of Easter in Year C is John 21.1–19. Unlike the reading for Easter Sunday, where we may read John 20 every year, and Easter 2, where we must read about ‘Doubting’ Thomas each year, we only read this in Year C—but it is an extremely well-known passage, though very long to preach on in one go.
As we have found in previous weeks, the narrative has both the hallmarks of eye-witness observation, but also the ‘double meaning’ of symbolic resonance, and in reading and preaching on this we need to pay attention to both. In addition, it includes two very well-worn subjects of debate, the question of the 153 fish and Jesus’ threefold question and answer with Peter about love, both of which I have written about separately at greater length—go to the posts for more detail on each.
You can find the video discussion of this passage here, and it is also linked at the end of this article.
It is striking that, where this gospel sometimes counts the passing days with some precision (as it has in fact just done in John 20.26), this episode begins with the most general possible time marker, ‘after this’ (Μετὰ ταῦτα, curiously the repeated phrase that marks successive visions in the Book of Revelation). This, combined with the sense of a summary ‘ending’ statement in John 20.30–31, has generated quite a tradition of believing (amongst critical scholarship) that chapter 21 is a secondary appendix added to a work that finished at chapter 20. But most commentators now point out that there is zero manuscript evidence for this, and that the style, vocabulary and content of chapter 21 match completely all that has gone before. But what the double ending does do is to create a sense of this chapter describing an ‘in between’ time, when Jesus has been raised, but the post-Pentecost work has not really begun. This might point to a confirmation of the ‘Johannine Pentecost’ when Jesus breathes on the disciples in John 20.22 as pointing to a future promise which has yet to be fulfilled.
It is also striking that Jesus is described here not merely as ‘appearing’ to his disciples or even happening to be around so that they see him, but of ‘revealing’ himself (though using φανερόω rather than ἀποκαλύπτω). The gospel writing is here couching this realistic account in theological terms; Jesus’ resurrection person has continuity with his previous existence, but he is not mundanely resuscitated. His appearances are deliberate, and are offering to create growing understanding rather than mere observation.
Galilee is described as the ‘Sea of Tiberius’, as it has been before (John 6.1) suggesting important themes of rule and occupation. Seven disciples are listed, suggesting some kind of completeness about this group, though they only partly overlap with the Twelve, who are not ever actually introduced and do not feature much in this gospel, in sharp contrast to the Synoptics. This is the only time in this gospel that the ‘sons of Zebedee’ and Simon Peter are mentioned together, which would be odd if John of Zebedee were the author of this gospel. The mention of Nathanael forms an inclusio his appearance in chapter 1. Tantalisingly, two of the seven are not named, but it transpires (in John 21.7) that one of them is the ‘disciple whom Jesus loved’.
Simon Peter’s decision to go fishing appears to be one that simply fills a void; he has nothing better to do. That the others go with him is a sign of solidarity. The failure of their efforts, the command of Jesus to do something different, and the dramatic result all remind us of Luke 5, once more as though the writer of this gospel assumes that we have read the others—or simply that we know the things that have happened. I find arguments that there was a single event which has been ‘reworked’ in two different ways by the two gospel writers implausible; there are points of contact, so that the one reminds us of the other, but plenty of differences too. Why should this not happen twice? Why attribute creativity and care to the gospel writers rather than to Jesus?
Day is just breaking, as it was in John 20.1; though Jesus himself is present, the light has not yet dawned. Jesus’ location ‘on the shore’ contributes to the ‘liminality’ of this episode as being in an ‘in-between’ place. His address to them as ‘children’ is kindly rather than condescending, and though the disciples are referred to in this way in Luke 10.21, it is the only time Jesus addresses them in this way. Their response is terse. But everything changes with the miraculous haul of fish. Simon Peter has been γυμνός for work, from which we get ‘gymnast’, since the competitors were naked—but the term can simply mean stripped to undergarments. (It provides an explanation for the meaning of Jesus coming into the boat ‘just as he was’ in Mark 4.36, that is, without stripping off prepared for the work of sailing or fishing.) He is as impetuous as ever; I remember watching the re-enactment of this episode at the Wintershall Life of Christ, and it was truly dramatic!
There is a very suggestive interaction between the work of Jesus and the work of the disciples in the preparation of breakfast. On the one hand, Jesus has already provided all they need; the mention of both fish and bread reminds us of John 6 and the feeding of the 5,000, though there is not even a hint of ‘eucharistic action’ here. On the other hand, he invites them to contribute what they have caught. And yet the work they have done was entirely dependent on obedience to the call of Jesus and entirely the result of his miraculous provision. But they still had to do the work, and their work still made a contribution to their own provision.
And so we come to the 153 fish. There have been many bizarre and speculative interpretations of this number, which I list in the earlier post exploring the meaning of this number. I also note that we cannot simply dismiss all these; we need to be aware that we are reading a text from a different time and culture, where these symbolic things mattered—though it is quite natural for any commercial fisherman to count the catch!
There are not very many large numbers mentioned in the New Testament: this is one; Luke mentions that there are 276 people who are saved from the shipwreck in Acts 27.37; and the number of beast in Rev 13.18 is 666. It is striking mathematically that all three of these are ‘triangular’ numbers, as several of our theories note, which is a much more important thing in a world where you primarily count using physical objects, rather than in our world where numbers are more like abstract concepts. In fact, the word in the New Testament for ‘to calculate’ (psephizo) derives from the word for ‘pebble’ (psephos).
If 153 as the triangle of 17 is important, then perhaps we need to think about the significance of 17 itself. Commentators struggle to make much sense of the list of regions whose residents were at Pentecost in Acts 2.9–11; Ben Witherington in his socio-rhetorical commentary (pp 136 to 137) notes the anomalies, and the failure of things like astrological theories to make any sense of the list. But, taking the ‘Jews and proselytes’ from Rome as two groups, we have a list of 17, and perhaps Luke here is simply communicating that people hear the message from all over the known world. (Luke is clearly interested in numerology himself; the late Martin Menken pointed out that Peter’s Pentecost speech consisted of two halves of 444 syllables each, the total 888 being the gematria value of Jesus’ name in Greek. And Joel Green draws on Menken’s work to note that, in stories like the raising of the widow of Nain’s son, the word for ‘compassion’ comes at the numerical centre of the narrative.)
The connection with the nations of the world is also suggested by the following connection with Ezekiel 47, the passage which was the context for Jerome’s reflection cited above which assumed there were 153 kinds of fish in total in the world.
In Ezekiel 47, we see baptismal waters flowing from the overturned Bronze Sea of the Temple, flowing out to the boundaries of the Land. Remember that Jesus claims to be the source of such living waters. In Ezekiel 47:9, we are told that “very many fish” will live in the (formerly) Dead Sea as a result of these living waters. In verse 10 we read, “And it will come about that fishermen will stand beside it; from En-Gedi to En-Eglaim there will be a place for spreading of nets. Their fish will be acording to their kinds, like the fish of the Great [Mediterranean] Sea, very many.”
The Dead Sea is the boundary of the new land after the exile, and a place of contact with gentiles. The fishes are clearly gentile nations. The fact that the sea is formerly dead and now is brought to life surely indicates the influence of Restoration Israel over the nations before Christ, and points to the greater influence of the Kingdom after Pentecost.
Now, it is well known that Hebrew letters are also numbers: the first nine letters being 1-9, the next nine being 10-90, and the last five being 100-400. “Coding” words with numbers is called gematria. If we substract the “En” from En-Gedi and En-Eglaim, since “en” means “spring,” then the following emerges:
Gedi = 17 (ג = 3; ד = 4; י = 10)
Eglaim = 153 (ע = 70; ג = 3; ל = 30; י = 10; מ = 40)
Again, this seems too close to the mark to be a coincidence. Once again, we have the number 17 (Gedi, mentioned first) and its relative 153 (Eglaim, mentioned second) connecting to the evangelization of the gentiles, symbolized by fishing.
Conclusion: The number 153 represents the totality of the nations of the world, which will be drawn in the New Creation.
This connection is also made by Richard Bauckham, in what is perhaps the most comprehensive study of this issue in print, in the final chapter of his The Testimony of the Beloved Disciple. (It is worth noting the other connections with Ezekiel in both the Fourth Gospel and the Book of Revelation.) Bauckham further connects the numerology here with the opening chapters of the gospel, thus arguing that this ‘second’ concluding chapter was always part of the whole work, contrary to the dominant view in the previous generation that chapter 21 was a later addition. (Mark Stibbe also makes the case for unity on the basis of literary features of the text.)
So there is a good case, supported in multiple ways, for seeing the 153 as having both real and symbolic significance. The connections with the number 17 at Pentecost, and the parallels in this episode with the commissioning of the disciples in the similar experience in Luke 5, do suggest that the symbolic significance has to do with gospel ministry which will draw on people from all over the world. This is a ‘hidden’ meaning which simply says the same thing as the narrative in Luke 5, though in a distinct way and using distinct language and symbolism.
If I am right here, then this does make the meaning of the narrative strongly focussed on the theme of restoration and renewing commissioning, which immediately links to the final part of the narrative with the interrogation of Simon Peter.
It is quite common to hear this episode expounded by noting the different words for ‘love’ that are used here. But there are several serious problems with this way of reading John 21. The first is that, if there was a significant difference between the two terms, why would Jesus make the progression that he does, from the ‘higher’ form of love to the ‘lower’? Surely he should start asking Peter about the most undemanding form of love, and then progress to that which will sustain him through the trials that Jesus says he is to face? And the use of these two synonyms also needs to be put in the context of Jesus’ synonyms for ‘feed’ and ‘my sheep’. The order is as follows:
| Jesus’ question | Peter’s answer | Command | Object |
| agapao | phileo | bosko | arnia |
| agapao | phileo | poimaino | probata |
| phileo | phileo | bosko | probata |
I am not aware of any commentator who makes much of the synonyms for ‘feed my sheep’ as a progression, so why should we think that the changes of synonyms for ‘love’ is important? Moreover, Peter does not respond to Jesus’ question ‘Do you agapao me?’ with ‘No, Lord, but I do phileo you’—he responds ‘Yes!’ And he is grieved in verse 17 not because Jesus has changed the verb he uses, but (as John tells us quite explicitly) because Jesus asked him ‘a third time’, a phrase John repeats for emphasis. Is this because Peter naturally feels that he has given an adequate answer already? Or is it because he is now wincing inside at the threefold question that he was asked in the courtyard by the fire, and this third question of Jesus is both a painful reminder of that failure, and the excruciating process of healing that wound, just as we wince in pain as someone pulls a splinter or thorn from our hand that has embedded itself in the skin? The act is painful, but without it healing cannot come. (Bultmann is just about alone in all the commentators in history who does not see the parallel here.)
Vineyard scholar John uses the agape word-group (in various forms) about 37 times (including Jn. 3:16, 3:19, 3:35, 8:42, 10:17, 11:5, 12:43, 13:1, 13:1, 13:23, 13:34, 14:15, 14:21, 14:23, 14:24, 14:28, 14:31, 15:9, 15:12, 15:17, 17:23, 17:24, 17:26, 19:26, 21:7, 21:15, 21:16, 21:20), and this includes the saying that people loved (agape love) the darkness rather than light in Jn. 3:19 and that the Pharisees loved (agape love) the approval of men more than the praise of God in Jn. 12:43. On the other hand, John uses phileo (in various forms) about 13 times (Jn. 5:20, 11:3, 11:36, 12:25, 15:19, 16:27, 20:2, 21:15, 21:16, 21:17), and this includes the Father loving (phileo-love) the Son in Jn. 5:20, Lazarus, whom Jesus loved (phileo-love) in Jn. 11:13 and 11:36, God’s love in John 16.27, and the disciple whom Jesus loved (phileo love) in Jn. 20:2. John’s actual uses does not sustain the common differentiation between the two terms in his gospel—whatever usage elsewhere might look like.
So is there any significance to the structure and variation in Jesus’ three-fold questioning of Peter? It seems to me that the central point here is the restoration of Peter, and it is characteristic of John to make connections backwards (known as ‘analepsis’, ‘looking again’) and forwards (‘prolepsis’, ‘looking ahead’) throughout his gospel; the reference to ‘feeding my sheep’ takes us back to Jesus’ claim to be the good shepherd in John 10—and John has already made a connection between this teaching and Peter’s betrayal by using the same word (aule) for both the sheep-pen of the good shepherd (John 10.1, 16) and the courtyard of the failed disciple (John 18.15). The theme of restoration is in fact one that has already occurred, especially if we see the great catch of fish earlier in the chapter as a conscious repeat of the episode in Luke 5 which began the ministry of Peter and the others; here is another new beginning, but one in the light of Jesus’ resurrection life.
Come and join Ian and James as they discussion both sets of issues in this long passage here:
As always, this is a rich and helpful reflection. I’ve always wondered, when we approach this passage, if we slightly overlook something central. When Jesus asks Peter, “Do you love me?”, we often zero in on the kind of love (agapao vs phileo), or the mission that follows (“feed my sheep”). But, at the risk of what some might say is devotional reductionism, maybe the most important word in the question is ‘me’.
Peter is being restored and recommissioned, yes – but not just to a job. He’s being called back into a relationship. Church leaders (myself included) can love many good things – ministry, justice, theology, even community – but if love for Christ himself isn’t at the centre, everything else can become unmoored. Peter’s failure wasn’t just denial of a mission; it was denial of a person. And Jesus’ restoration begins not with an assignment, but with a question of the heart.
Of course, that love doesn’t stay abstract – it expresses itself in care for others (“feed my sheep”). But the sequence matters. Ministry rooted in duty alone may grind us down. Ministry rooted in love for Jesus – even when it’s painful or costly – is what gives it life
‘the most important word is ‘me”.
Spot on. Thanks
Ive never viewed this as a denial of ‘mission’ but as a personal denial of Jesus. Because that is what Peter had previously claimed to Jesus he would never do – deny him personally. He then literally did this, 3 times. Hence Jesus’ repetition 3 times of ‘do you love me?’ He didnt have to say, Peter do you remember not long ago you denied me. The thrice repeated question hammered it home. But Jesus has now expanded what it means, not just following him as before.
One could go to the 3.5.19 psephizo discussion of the 153 fish which is a depository of much detailed discussion.
Yes, I have hyperlinked to that.
Perhaps, being seasoned fishermen, the number of fish were counted as usual for the purpose of dividing them equaly amongst themselves at the end of the voyage? thus no symbolism intended?
Ive always thought that as fishermen, they would naturally have counted any catch of fish as they would be selling it later, in fact as soon as they brought it to shore so that the fish were still fresh. Numbers rather than weight?
Some collected views on the number 153,pay your money take your choice.
Simon + James + John are mentioned 153 times in the Gospels!
153 were all the types of know fish at the time and represented all races – Jerome 4th Century priest.
Or, one who states, the King James Bible is from God, in His language and His format and to do that He has made the entire Bible mathematical perfect, from start to finish. Every other version is counterfeit as it literally does not ‘add up’.
The same can be true with Scripture, especially in books like Revelation, Daniel, or John. When a biblical author uses symbolism to portray his message, the true words of God can be enlarged, exaggerated, or embellished over time.
This method of embellishment often is often associated with something called allegory, as interpreters of Scripture take something in text of Scripture and interpret it by something outside of Scripture. This extra-biblical ‘thinking,’ might be a philosophy, a moral imperative, or a doctrinal truth. But what it is not is something that immediately comes from the text of Scripture.
That said, this method of allegory infiltrated the church for generations, and as a result, it created a caste of priests who had to interpret the Word for the people. Clearly, you had to be trained by experts to misread the Bible like this.
In the Protestant Reformation, such allegory was largely rejected and the Bible was put into the hands of the people. Meaning, the authority of the Bible, as well as its interpretation, came not from an allegorical approach to the Bible, or from a class of mystical priests. Instead, biblical interpretation came from a grammatical and historical approach. Discovering the author’s intention led to understanding God’s Word.
Sola scriptura never meant and shouldn’t mean solo scriptura. Rather, in the Reformation and today, faithful teachers submit themselves to the Bible. And more, points of doctrine or application must come from points in the passage, not from flights of fancy or any kind of allegorical method.
Go deeper perhaps at:-
davidschrock.com/2023/04/24/a-tale-of-two-fisherman-peter-jesus-and-the-meaning-of-153-fish/
These are very far from being the only options. Literary study, knowledge of literary convention, knowledge of genre, attention to structure, attention to history, knowledge of how numbers and mathematics/alphabet were used – these are 6 large areas none of which is intrinsically remotely symbolic. One can do extremely fruitful study without either chronicle or symbolism crossing one’s mind- though it is far preferable that both also do so in addition to the 6 areas of study already mentioned.
indeed.
‘Simon + James + John are mentioned 153 times in the Gospels!’
I am not sure that is actually true.
‘153 were all the types of know fish at the time and represented all races – Jerome 4th Century priest.’
I mention that in the longer piece too—but I don’t think that has any connection with the passage.
how could Jerome possibly know that 400 years later?
The only way for the fish to be distributed equally one must first add Jesus’ fish: therefore, 154 /7=22 .
Peter started out leaving nets of fish and comes full circle. 22/7
….. which is a good approximation of pi. What were they going to do with the fish?
Jock, I wrote a short story about this. In it Jesus recites the first stanza of ps 119, the seven take it in turn to complete the round 22 times while Peter doles out the fish. At the end Peter is a fish short so Jesus says ” do you love me more than these” pointing at the fish then gives him one of His own. Peter is bought back full circle.
…and A stowaway gets all the fish…
BTW there are 154 parts in a pocket watch (according to the internet). One theologian can take it apart. It takes a lot to agree on how to put it back together again.
Best to just wind it occasionally, read it, and do something useful.
Steve, I read that story. It wasn’t short it was So long,
and thanks for all the fish.
Perhaps the meaning of life is not 42, but 153…
You are more right than you think. John’s interest was in trying to discover the numerical patterns written into the way things are – both in the scriptural 7 day week, in the yearly and lunar cycles, and in the internal logic of relations between different numbers. And together with that, gematria (letters as numbers) and syllable counts.
That sounds a bit irrational to me. But it is transcendental.
make a fish pi?
Lol.
Sometimes I wonder if 153 is a bone thrown in as a distraction.
On a scale of 1 to 153?
Be careful, Steve, fish bones can be very dangerous, as the Queen Mum once discovered.
Completely off topic, perhaps, but “dividing fish” reminds me of the story of three fishermen who went to an island to fish. They caught some fish, which they had in a big pile. It was too late to go home, so they made camp and slept. Early, one fisherman woke, divided the fish into three equal piles. but with one fish left over, which he threw away. He took his pile but put the remainder back into one pile. A bit later, the second fisherman arose, did not see that the first had left, and did the same dividing into three with one left over. Later still, the third, not seeing that the others had left, did exactly the same. How many fish were there?
There are actually an infinite number of possible answers but the most elegant was offered by a mathematician: there were minus 2. Each time the fish were divided into three piles of -1, with one left over.
Even more completely off-topic:
A Swede meets a Norwegian coming from a lake, carrying a rod and bucket.
S: You bin fishing?
N: You genius! I tell you what, guess how many I caught and I’ll give you both of them!
Several minutes thinking, then:
S: Five!
N: You dumb Swede, you missed it by two!
Feed my Sheep….
The best estimations of Shepherds is their Sheep;
are they wellfed,floureshing and fruitful ?
Ditto, Masters and Teachers.
A minor point, but probably gumnos here means literally naked. We know that fishermen did work naked. They were in and out of the water attending to the nets etc, and no one had invented a garment that was not an encumbrance and would stay on while swimming. (Everyone in history swam naked until the Victorians. Arab fishermen still worked naked, even when fishing from the shore, in Galilee in the 19th century.)
This actually makes sense of the story. Peter does not put on his clothes before stepping into the water. He just puts on his loincloth in order to be decent when he meets Jesus.
Thanks!
Actually, Richard, I am wondering how this fits with I think the universal Jewish rejection of nakedness in the first century.
Apart from the biblical texts on this, I think 1 Macc 1 and Jewish rejection of the games testifies to this.
It’s a good question, Ian, because undoubtedly Jewish attitudes to nakedness differed from the Greeks. But the issue in 1Maccabees is actually not nakedness, but the far more serious issue of circumcision. Young Jewish men were embarrassed to be seen circumcised, which Greeks and others thought a horrible mutilation. So they tried to reverse their circumcision. Since circumcision was the mark of the covenant, this was a kind of apostasy.
While recognising that nakedness was an issue for Jews, we should be careful not to attribute our modern western attitudes to them. In our culture nakedness has a strong association with sex. For Jews I think it was shameful rather than indecent (I probably should not have used the word ‘decent’).
I think it was just that, despite the general avoidance of nakedness, people recognized that in some contexts it was natural and necessary. Ritual bathing in miqva’ot required stripping off, and I really don’t think people juggled towels to avoid being exposed. Similarly the public baths. Even the rabbis went to them. They had qualms about the presence of pagan images in them, but not about nakedness. Throughout the ancient world nakedness in and around water was considered normal. I think Jews took it for granted that that had to be an exception to the wider taboo.
When most people wore just a tunic and no undergarment, accidental exposure must have been common. The Qumran rule is very severe about avoiding that, but surely just because most people were a bit more relaxed about it.
Thanks Richard. As well as a response to Ian’s point, I would be grateful for your insights into 153. Much of the preceding conversation has now descended into a latter-day Whitehall farce on the one hand, or pious thoughts from the evanjellyfish school of axejesis on the other.
One thing I think we can be sure of is that most readers would recognize that 153 is a triangular number. There are not many of them and they were considered significant. So a reader might then probe a bit further. I think John writes a Gospel that is full of meaning that could be easily grasped even by a a first time reader, but would also yield fuller meaning to someone who applied the king of exegetical techniques he and other Jews were used to applying to the Hebrew Scriptures. A simple illustration is that if you bother to count the two sets of ‘I am’ sayings you find there are 7 of each.
It’s (possibly entirely) a Genesis 2-3 reference. Peter is
(a) first – naked;
(b) then – clothed in a hasty way by his own doing;
(c) then – another will clothe him in a different way, 2nd of 2 clothings;
(d) and will also (like Adam and Eve) send/conduct him where he does not want to go.
in that culture, Jewish, would they not be concerned women would see them? Plus wasnt it considered shameful, for example with Noah, that parents’ naked bodies were seen by their children? I always assumed Jews were very modest regardless of other cultures around them.
The significance of 1-5-3 is an overarching thing in John, because the initial 9 days in chapters 1-2 are divided into 1 then 5 then 3. The numbers of syllables gematrically spell MONOGENES [Son] for the 1, GEORGOS [Father] for the 5, PANTA [Spirit] for the 3.
The MONOGENES was already seen by Menken and Bauckham.
Psephizo 2014 Secret Codes in the Bible and NT Wright, comments below, gives the full set of the gematria in this initial portion of John.
Both in identity and in sequence, the gematria words that the syllable counts reveal are identical to the titles of the matrices in the periodic table of John that I circulated at Tyndale 2019. However, I only discovered the gematria 20+ years after I knew the titles and the matrix-sequence.
432 (which is the value of ‘panta’) is also a similar number to 153 – comprising 9 from 2 different numbers. John likes such numbers, and of course the intrinsic fruitfulness of 9 as a number is well known.
I have the kind of mindset which greatly enjoyed Richard Bauckham’s in depth analysis of John 21 and gematria in general, in his book “Beloved Disciple”. If nothing else, it illustrates how there is usually much more going on in scripture than we generally realise, given our cultural distance from the writers. Thank you Ian & Richard.
However, John’s chosen topic for the summary of his gospel message is whether we love Jesus, not how good our theology is, or how well we can understand scripture. And if we can’t manage agape, then maybe phileo will have to do.
Ian
in your comments re agapeo, phileo and so on, you ascribe these words to Jesus. But this is John’s presentation in Greek of a discussion which (one would surely assume) most likely took place in Aramaic. Unless you think Jesus would have spoken Greek to local fishermen in Galilee? Or always used Greek with his friends? I know you believe Jesus may often have preached in Greek, but surely he would most likely be using Aramaic here? Any comment?
I remember Tom Wright making this exact argument in a sermon once – it’s an excellent one! Though what if the Aramaic conversation went like this and John were trying to capture it in Greek… paraphrase alert…
‘Would you lay down your life for me?’
‘Yes Lord you know I’m your friend.’
‘Would you lay down your life for me?’
‘Yes Lord you know I’m your friend.’
‘Are you even my friend?’
Peter was hurt because the third time Jesus asked ‘are you my friend’. ‘Lord you know all things, you know I’m your friend.’
Jesus said ‘one day you’ll lay down your life for me…’
I find something in that rings true.
However, the point raised above in the comments that the primary focus is ‘me’ is excellent, fitting as well with what Jesus says when Peter points at the beloved disciple and says what about him.
As ever these questions are interesting but the main point is… Jesus.
Yes, and that does not depend on different meanings of Greek terms….
Agreed !!