Readings: Acts 5:12-16 / Rev 1:9-11a, 12-13, 17-19 / Jn 20:19-31
“Come, have breakfast.”
It’s such a simple line, but behind it is the whole heart of the Gospel.
The disciples had gone back to fishing—back to what they knew.
Maybe they were tired, maybe they were confused, or just trying to make sense of everything that had happened.
Whatever the reason, they worked all night and caught nothing. Empty nets, empty hearts.
We know what that’s like.
We work hard, we try to do what’s right, but some days we feel like we’re getting nowhere.
And we wonder: Is the Lord still with me? Does He still have a plan?
Then, at dawn, Jesus appears on the shore.
But He comes quietly—no trumpet, no drama.
Just a voice in the distance: “Children, have you caught anything?”
And then: “Cast the net on the right side.”
Suddenly—abundance. Recognition. “It is the Lord!”
And when they come ashore, there He is—with a charcoal fire, with bread and fish, waiting to feed them.
The risen Lord, who defeated death, now makes them breakfast.
Dear friends, this is the God we worship: gentle, patient, generous.
He meets us in our daily lives and invites us to His table.
And here at this altar, He does the same.
He says to us: “Come, have breakfast.”
Come and be fed.
Come and be healed.
Come, follow Me.
So let us draw near, rejoicing that the Lord lives and has revealed Himself again, not just to Peter, but to us, always, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.
Love the emphasis on the Lord's gentle, inviting, service-oriented presence in this third appearance after the Resurrection. And, instead of chiding Peter, Jesus invites a three-fold expression of reparative love.
Ah, come and taste . . .!
Thank you so much, Father Matthew, for such clear, penetrating, almost unvarnished teaching.
Yes, He is always there, wanting, waiting, for us to accept Him and follow Him.