SCRIPTURE
JOHN 21:1-14

When they landed, they saw a fire of burning coals
there with fish on it, and some bread.

Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you have just
caught.” So Simon Peter climbed back into the boat and
dragged the net ashore. It was full of large fish, 153, but even
with so many the net was not torn. Jesus said to them,
“Come and have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared
ask him, “Who are you?” They knew it was the Lord.
Jesus came, took the bread and gave it to them,
and did the same with the fish. This was now
the third time Jesus appeared to his disciples
after he was raised from the dead.

—JOHN 21:9-14

Because this is a story we usually visit in the season of Easter, it can be easy to forget that the disciples were in a new and disorienting liminal space. We know they were between the resurrection and Jesus's ascension and that Pentecost was soon to follow. But they didn’t know that.

All they knew was that they had been recruited by Jesus to be fishers of people, but then that whole thing didn’t go where they thought it would, and now in the aftermath of crucifixion and resurrection, they were trying to figure out what to do with their lives. So they returned to what they knew best—fishing for fish instead of people. But even that wasn't normal, and a fruitless night on the lake turned into a miraculous catch of fish and breakfast on the beach with Jesus.

Have you ever been so thoroughly confused by a situation that you don’t even know what questions to ask? I imagine that was the state these disciples were in. If it were me, I would have been ready for Jesus to show up and explain a lot. But Jesus knows the loving response is not always giving us what we want but giving us what we truly need. After an exhausting night of no sleep and no fish, they didn’t need more information. They needed breakfast. I think I can relate.

Several years ago, I was given the gift of a sabbatical. Within the span of four years I had two babies and planted a church. I was tired. I began my sabbatical on retreat, where I was encouraged to spend time in prayer with this story in John 21. I felt myself gravitating toward the end, where Jesus invites Peter to feed his sheep, because I had long identified that as part of my own calling as a pastor and a mom. But I was also pretty worn out from feeding people—parishioners and toddlers alike. I felt myself leaning toward resentment at the thought that God had led me on sabbatical to give me more work to do.

When I read the story again, a lightbulb turned on as I realized I had jumped ahead in the story. Before Jesus asks Peter to feed anyone, Jesus feeds Peter! Before Jesus includes Peter in his work of shepherding, he is a Good Shepherd to Peter. And in that moment of my own exhaustion, I recognized Jesus showing up to offer me what I needed most—not a lot of answers, and certainly not a task list, but nourishment for my soul.

Jesus is not just the Good Shepherd for Peter, pastors, and mothers. He is the Good Shepherd for all of us, which includes you. Jesus knows how to find you on your own beach of exhaustion, confusion, and discouragement. Jesus knows how to say your name, and he knows what you need most. Jesus knows how you like your breakfast, and he’s already prepared it for you. Take a moment now and imagine the place where Jesus meets you and the meal he’s made for you. Let yourself be loved by your Good Shepherd, and return as often as you need.

QUESTIONS FOR REFLECTION, DISCUSSION, AND PRAYER

How have you experienced food as an expression of love?

What image comes to mind when you think of Jesus as your breakfast maker?

What do you find most comforting or most challenging about letting Jesus love you this way?