May 4, 2025 ~ Third Sunday of Easter
Rev. Beckie Sweet
It happened sometime after the first Easter. No one knows exactly when, but long enough after that first Easter for the disciples to have left Jerusalem and made the 75 mile trek back to Galilee. Galilee was home for them. It was the place where everything had begun for them, which made it the natural place for them to return once it seemed that everything had come to an end. There were seven of them, John says, which means that some of the disciples were already going their own way.
These seven disciples decide to go fishing, and that makes a lot of sense. For me, fishing is a good activity in which to engage when I want to escape from the troubles of life, or just mull things over. There is something about just drifting, knowing that my line is down there somewhere in the deep waters, as my mind is, waiting to catch something, to hook something that will make it all worthwhile.
I can only imagine the reflections and conversations in the boat with the disciples that day. They must have still been struggling, despite the overwhelmingly wonderful experience of the resurrection. What do they do with a risen Lord? WHO will believe their witness? HOW will they support themselves? HOW do they deal with their guilt and shame over abandoning Jesus in his hour of need?
But fishing has added meaning for the seven disciples, because it is their occupation – or was, before Jesus showed up, saying “Follow Me!” They did not fish for pleasure; they fished for a living. They did not fish with lines and hooks; they fished with big, heavy nets that smelled of seaweed and dried fish scales, and hauled them out of the bottom of the boat with hands that were calloused from years and years of casting and knotting and straining against the ropes.
So, when they decided to go fishing, it was not a decision to daydream, but a decision to return to their former way of life, to GO BACK to the only thing they knew how to do WITHOUT Jesus.
Jesus was gone, after all. They had not seen him since Jerusalem, and while that was a powerful time that none of them would ever forget, it was time to get on with life. Memory is one thing, but the future is another. Jesus’ life on earth may have ended, but theirs had not, and they had to do something about getting food on their tables and roofs over their heads. Jesus was gone, and it was time for them to start looking after themselves again.
So, they went fishing, each of them sunk in their own thoughts as they climbed into the old familiar boat again. Maybe it was all a dream too good to be true, the way Jesus had walked up to them, and spoke to them like someone they had known all their lives. And so there was no doubt what they would do when Jesus called out to them to follow.
Should they have known better than to believe it, to have staked their lives on something that could come so quickly to a bloody end? Perhaps they should have known that it would all boil down to going back to business as usual ~ all their wild, joyful expectations reduced to grim resignation as they went back to their nets. Except that it doesn’t work! They fished all night without catching a single thing. Time after time their nets came up empty, a perfect match for their hearts. So now what? They didn’t know how to go forward, and going back was not working. All they could do was sit in the dark and watch the sky change color as the sun rose behind the hills.
That’s when they heard him! They could not see him, but they heard him, someone, calling out to them across the water, who guessed the truth – they had no fish. He told them to try the other side of the boat. What could he see that they couldn’t? But, they followed the suggestion, and suddenly the water began to boil. The net was so dense with fish that they came right out of the water, their shiny fins catching the morning light. It’s a déjà vu moment: the boats, the nets, the stranger calling out to them.
“It is the Lord!” said the beloved disciple. What had been a dismal night, had become pure daybreak pandemonium. Peter threw himself into the water leaving the others to struggle with the oars and the net full of fish. They strained to get the boat close to shore, just to see there a charcoal fire, and smell the sizzling fish, baking bread and smoke, and behold Jesus, their beloved cook.
“Come,” Jesus says to his wet, happy disciples, “Come, and have breakfast.”
Jesus is not serving supper this time. That was the last meal of their old life together. This is the first meal of their new life together – a resurrection breakfast, prepared by the only one who knows the recipe. And this table is spread not only with that which sustains physical life, but also with that which sustains spiritual health and growth: healing of broken relationships, restoration of self-esteem, clarification of divine calling.
This story is full of clues for those times when we, too, are marooned on the sea of life in the middle of the night, afraid that we have come to the end of something, without any idea how to begin again. One moment, problems look too big to be budged, and the next, one is discovering a companion with whom to strain forward. How simply and sensitively Jesus deals with the disciples in their struggle, transforming despair into hope. Jesus knows their needs and their hungers, and prepares a table of abundance where every broken soul is welcome, fractured relationships are healed, sins are forgiven, and second chances are the norm.
Here at Jesus’ table, an intervention of the most gracious kind is the special every day as it transforms heart and soul with nourishment and nurture. Here at Jesus’ table, grace is poured out, collaboration feeds the multitude, fellowship heals isolation, and hospitality replaces judgment. Jesus invites us: “Come! Breakfast is ready!”