John 21:9-14

Sisters and brothers in Christ,

This evening’s Bible passage is John 21:9-14:

⁹ When they got out on land, they saw a charcoal fire in place, with fish laid out on it, and bread. ¹⁰ Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish that you have just caught.” ¹¹ So Simon Peter went aboard and hauled the net ashore, full of large fish, 153 of them. And although there were so many, the net was not torn. ¹² Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord. ¹³ Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and so with the fish. ¹⁴ This was now the third time that Jesus was revealed to the disciples after he was raised from the dead.

If Jesus was already cooking fish over a charcoal fire, why did he ask the disciples to add some of their fish to the meal?

We’ll get to that in a moment, but first let’s note the real-live-human quality of this third appearance to the disciples. Jesus has brought his own bread and fish. And some kind of grill on which to lay the fish. And charcoal—the fire isn’t made of scrap driftwood. And he’s lit the fire, not always easy with charcoal. This is a well-prepared beach barbecue. Ghosts don’t do this kind of thing. Jesus isn’t just eating a piece of broiled fish to show he’s still truly human; this time, he’s grilling fish over a charcoal fire.

But we might also wonder how Jesus got hold of the bread, fish, grill, charcoal, and the means to fire it all up? And why don’t the disciples seem to have noticed a man carefully lighting a fire on the shore any sooner? We don’t know, but I’m inclined to think that Jesus wasn’t visible until shortly before he called out to the disciples, and that his sudden appearance with all his supplies and an already well-lit fire was a miracle akin to his previous two appearances to the disciples inside locked doors (John 20:19, 26).

If I’m right, this encounter displays both Jesus’s divinity and his full humanity. He does things that only human beings can do, and he does them in ways that only God can do. (Angels can appear out of nowhere, but there’s no biblical record of them grilling fish over a charcoal fire.) Jesus is gently and tangibly revealing to his disciples both aspects of who he is.

But why does he need some of their fish? Well, I don’t suppose it was because he couldn’t provide enough of his own. This is the Christ who can turn five loaves and two fish into enough to feed five thousand people. If, as I suggested yesterday, Jesus is reminding the disciples of their call to be fishers of men, then perhaps he’s also showing them that their mission will be a cooperative effort. Their proclamation of the risen Christ to a world hungry for love and hope and in desperate need of new life will be their work no less than his. His power will be at work (153 large fish out of a sea that was empty moments before!), but he won’t work alone. He’s committed to working with and through them: they hauled the net full of fish ashore and he values their contribution to the breakfast.

Let’s not lose sight, either, of Jesus’s practical kindness. The disciples have been fishing all night. They’re tired. Dragging the full net to the shore will have further exhausted them. They’re hungry. Instead of giving them a lecture on evangelism, Jesus has enacted a simple parable, cooking breakfast for them in a way that quietly illustrates the extent to which they’ll soon be collaborating with Jesus in a shared work. Peter will be told a little more after breakfast. Perhaps he’ll share with the other disciples Christ’s call to feed his sheep. In any case, they’ll all understand their mission better after Pentecost. In the meantime, Jesus has met their immediate need for food and pointed to the mission that lies ahead. The risen Christ is kindly and patiently at work.

The risen Christ is still at work, gently and kindly inviting us to work alongside him. Astonishing as it may seem, God shares his work with us, as he did with the first disciples. We can do nothing without him. Knowing this full well, he still chooses not to work alone, but to give us the privilege of playing our part, however large or small, in his work of love for a broken world.

Your brother in Christ,

Max