Easter 3 C ~ Jn. 21:1-14~ "Come Have Breakfast: ~ Rev. Richard Eslinger, PhD

St. John continues his rather ambiguous treatment of the disciples’

recognition that Jesus had indeed been raised from the dead. To be sure, Mary had encountered her risen Lord there in the garden. But at least for Peter, matters are not so clear cut. On Easter Sunday morning, he and the Beloved Disciple simply returned to their homes, not yet understanding the Scriptures “that Jesus must rise from the dead.” (John 20:9) So it does not surprise us that Peter would be the one to declare to the others, “I am going fishing.” He is obviously not yet ready—or equipped-- to head out on his missionary journey to the entire world. Maybe, as Fr. Raymond Brown suggests, “Peter is going back to his earlier way of life and will stay with it.” 1 Much like a group of soldiers who have shared some horrific times in combat, it may be best to gather the comrades together later in a quiet place and return to what they knew before the battles. Whatever the reason, the disciples all respond to Peter, “We will also come with you.”

So the disciples all climb into the boat and push off into the water. But it was night when they embarked on this fishing trip and for anyone familiar with

John’s Gospel, this expedition on the Sea was not going to achieve much of

anything. It was dark when the Temple police arrested Jesus and dark when Peter

denied Jesus three times. It was not much past full night when Peter and the

Beloved Disciples raced to the tomb. We can almost hear a variation on

Nathanael’s words, “In the Gospel of John, can anything good come at night?” 2

The Johannine type of darkness has several qualities. It is total, not allowing for

half-shades. It is also ubiquitous. It encompasses everything. And like the

darkness in John’s Prologue, this darkness stands in opposition to the light. We

come near such darkness only a few times in life. Perhaps someone suffering a

coma experiences such darkness.. One of the closest things to this Johannine

darkness may be when we join a group taking a tour of a large cavern. The guide

leads the group of us amateur spelunkers down into the earth, around marvels of

rock formations, and points out the massive stalactites and stalagmites. Finally, in

a great room, often named “The Cathedral,” the guide calls us all together. Then

he instructs us not to move, and turns off the lighting. We are in total darkness,

maybe as never experienced before. It separates us from others, and disorients us

completely. Can anything really be so dark, so totally lacking in light?

Thankfully, our guide turns the lights back on and after a time for readjustment,

leads us back toward the entrance far away. So, no surprise all that night--the

fishermen caught nothing. They don’t even get a nibble from a sardine-sized fish.

Darkness and night for St. John stand in opposition to the light that is in Christ.

The total failure in their fishing venture points to the absence of full faith in these

fisherfolk. And for many today--a lack of vital discipleship in the church, an

absence of care for the poor and homeless, and a meager missionary passion for

those not knowing the Lord. Thank God that we have witnessed the life of Pope

Francis. He embodied what it means to be the church in Christ’s light. But absent

these virtues of care and mercy, then for God’s people there is darkness. It is night.

Yet Jesus is on the shore and calls out to the weary fishermen, “Children, have you caught anything to eat?” Truthfully, they call back to him, “No.” At which point Jesus makes an astonishing proposal: “Cast the net over the right side of the boat and you will find something.” So they follow Jesus’ instructions and they could not pull in the net because of the number of fish! Later, Peter checks their net, and finds one hundred and fifty-three very large fish! This miracle on the Sea of Tiberias is one of the many signs of abundant new life in Christ. These large fish were “caught” by the disciples at the direction of their Lord. The word John uses here usually means arrested or seized. Following our Lord’s command, we graciously seize such a multitude!

At the Easter Vigil at the small St. Francis parish in Appalachia, following the Exultet and the Vigil lessons, the Easter Gospel, and the homily, a large group of parishioners came to the front of the assembly. Among them were three adults who sought Confirmation in the Church along with their sponsors, family members and good friends. The whole front of the nave was packed with these folks as the Pastor confirmed them in Catholic faith. Following this dramatic rite, the congregation stood up and applauded these new members as they stood there, foreheads glistening with holy oil. The Eucharistic offertory came soon after their Confirmation and the Gifts were processed to the altar by these three newly confirmed members. There was a miraculous catch of large fish at the Easter Vigil of that small mountain parish.

But such abundance is always a sign of the presence and faithfulness of our Lord.

Now it is dawn. Morning has broken there at the Sea. Following upon this

miraculous catch of fish, the disciple whom Jesus loved proclaims, “It is the Lord!”

Upon hearing the Beloved Disciple’s exclamation, Peter, who was not wearing

much of anything, girded himself with a cloak and throws himself into the sea!

One commentator puts it this way: “It is both suicidal and baptismal, as the

fisherman takes the final plunge into the dark sea.” 3 But while Peter was swimming to the shore, the other disciples were bringing the boat and the net of

huge fish to the beach. And St. John comments, “Even though there were so many, the net was not torn.”

The disciples climb out of their boat and see a charcoal fire with fish on it and bread. Jesus directs them to bring some of the fish they have just caught, adding, “Come and have breakfast.” The story now takes on a familiar cast. Jesus takes the bread and gives it to them. He feeds them the fish as well. What began as a futile night on the darkened sea is now recognizable in the gracious dawning light of this new day.

Jesus, risen from the dead, is our Lord who brings his Feast of joy to us in

this season of Easter, and for all our days. Bread of heaven, right there on the

shore! And bread of heaven, right here in our midst. We receive the bread, blessed

and broken, and commune with the risen body of Christ. The disciples realized

that it was the Lord. With them, we, too, know that our Lord feeds us: “Jesus,

gentle shepherd, and living bread.” Welcome to Communion on this shore with

our Lord and Savior.

Amen.

1 Raymond Brown, The Gospel According to John, Doubleday & Co., 1970.

2 I am grateful to Wes Howard-Brook for this insight. See: Becoming Children of God: John’s Gospel and Radical Discipleship, Orbis, 1994, 469.

3 Howard-Brook, 471