Fish for Breakfast

 

Fish for Breakfast

Fish for Breakfast - Audio/Visual 

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.” (John 21: 9-12)

By 7:00 p.m. on October 20, 1968, only a few thousand spectators remained in the Olympic stadium in Mexico City. It was almost dark, and the last of the marathon runners were stumbling across the finish line. Finally, the spectators heard the wail of sirens from the police cars and as eyes turned to the gate a lone runner wearing Tanzanian colors staggered into the stadium. His name was John Stephen Akhwari, and he was the last of the 74 competitors. With a deep cut on his knee and a dislocated joint from a fall he had suffered earlier in the race, he hobbled the final lap around the track. The assembled spectators all rose and applauded as though he had won the race. Afterward, someone asked him why he had kept running. His now famous reply was, “My country did not send me seven thousand miles away to start the race. They sent me seven thousand miles to finish it.”

The Bible often compares the Christian life to running a race. The apostle Paul spoke of it on several occasions. Toward the end of his life, he concluded, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” (2 Tim. 4:7) And to the believers at Corinth, he posed this challenge: “Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one gets the prize? Run in such a way as to get the prize.” (1 Cor. 9:24)

But it’s not always easy to finish a race, and any good runner will tell you that the only way to make it through a long run is to take it one mile at a time. I’m no runner so I wouldn’t know, but to think of running all 26.2188 miles, all at once, could be pretty overwhelming. And if you’ve ever read a passage from the Bible that just didn’t seem to make any sense, or had a time in your life when it seemed as though God didn’t come through for you, or you were tempted to just give up trying to follow Jesus, you know that feeling. You’re overwhelmed, and we wonder how we’ll ever hold on to our faith in the midst of the complexities and pandemics of life.

And that’s were Peter found himself. He’d quit and gone fishin’. You know the guy. The one who answered Jesus’ supernatural statements with in-the-natural answers. The one who wanted so badly for his screw-ups to be the secret kind, only to have them aired out for the whole world to see. But there’s another characteristic in this impetuous, impulsive, impassioned fisherman that I really admire: his randomness. You get the impression that Peter may have been a handful growing up; pity his mother trying to get him to do his homework, for instance, or getting him to plan ahead since Peter was pretty much a ready, fire, aim kind of guy.

So here’s the scene from John 21. Jesus has been crucified and raised from the dead. Peter, having denied the Lord publicly, had become a reproach and embarrassment to Jesus and to his companions. But he’d also met the risen Christ and experienced the wonder of being forgiven by Jesus. So what’s Mr. Randomness to do now? “I’m going fishing,” he says. (John 21:3) Seriously? No meditating on the theological ramifications of what they’d just seen and heard? No “I told you so” sermon prep for the Scribes? “We’ll go with you,” six other disciples said. How’s that for discipleship?

And  in a scene right out of a ministry playbook, the boys fished all night and caught nothing. So, as the sun was rising over the Sea of Galilee, a friendly fellow calls from the shore and asks whether they’d caught anything. “No,” they answered. Well, “cast the net on the right side of the boat,” said the friendly voice. Hey, wait a minute…. “It’s the Lord!” John said to Peter, and out the boat Mr. Impulsive flew, clothes and all, leaving the others to haul in the 153 large fish. Eventually, the others get to shore and discover Jesus has the Traeger going, and bread and fish on the barbie. “Bring me some of the fish you’ve caught,” Jesus says, insisting that they have some buy-in to this breakfast.

So, there you have it. And what a breakfast. Don’t you just figure that they laughed with wonder and joy and gratitude and, perhaps, relief? And The Randomizer? This was right up his alley; he ate surprises for breakfast. Funny thing is that he didn’t know that he was in for another one. After bellies were full and the conversation slows, Peter becomes aware of those eyes looking at him again. The last time he’d felt a gaze like that a rooster crowed at his cheating heart, and Simon Peter went from The Rock to the ruined. And now here were those same quiet eyes, fixed on him …. again.

In this scene, Christianity’s most public failure is confronted by a God of mercy and purpose. Three times he’s asked by the one he denied, “Do you love me?” Unfortunately, a little is lost in the English translation. But the language pattern in the Greek is pretty interesting. It goes like this: “Peter, do you love me?” “Yes, I like you.” “Peter, do you love me?” “Yes, I like you.” “Peter, do you like me?” “Yes, I love you.” And the challenge to Peter was always the same: Shepherd my people; feed my sheep; graze my lambs.

Just like Peter, we will all answer to the holiness and mercy of the Lord Jesus for our failures. But the predominant issue to God is always the love relationship we share. You see, God is willing to meet us where we are (“like”), in order to lead us to where we’re supposed to go (“love”). And the calling of God is irrevocable: Peter was still called to lead, even though the idea of his disqualification was of Peter’s own invention, and the priority of people in the heart of the Lord Jesus is to “Feed my sheep;” “shepherd my people;” and “graze my lambs.”

Living in a world of just desserts, Peter would have been permanently branded a failure. But the Random Angler discovered he was living in a different world – the world of Fish for Breakfast. He lived in a world where the Savior he denied and betrayed and failed, was waiting to serve him and eager to point out where the fresh fish could be found. Wanting to hear Peter say what Jesus already knew: “Peter, do you love me?” “You know I do.”

Peter had betrayed Christ three times, and he knew that he didn’t deserve Christ’s love. But Jesus loved him and forgave him. He made him breakfast on the shore and they fellowshipped together. Then, when Peter responded in love and repentance to Jesus’ love, Christ not only forgave him for the betrayal, but put his trust in him by making him responsible for his own sheep. Peter, who betrayed Christ so openly in his worst hour, was not only forgiven, but became a rock of the church he was asked to lead with the help of the other disciples.

I wonder what Jesus knew that we don’t, or maybe what Peter didn’t? Maybe Jesus knew that arrogant shepherds lead sheep astray, but broken and repentant ones have learned where the green pastures and still waters are. Maybe Jesus knew that Satan’s desire to sift us like wheat doesn’t thwart God’s scandalous plan to use Satan-sifted people as pillars in the church. Maybe Jesus knew that, regardless of his failures as a leader, even a follower, but a lover of Jesus, this Random Fisherman was still destined to be a fisher-of-men. And that in just a few short days, this man – who always had something to say – would be ablaze with the Holy Spirit and thousands of people would be asking him, of all people, “What do we do?”

And meanwhile, some Pharisee from Galilee whispers to his scribe buddy, “Wonder what got into him?” “Must’ve been the fish he had for breakfast.”

Grace,

Randy