Sermon for May 4, 2025 - The Third Sunday of Easter

“Breakfast with the Risen Lord”

On this Third Sunday of Easter, we return to a familiar place: the Sea of Galilee. It is here, along this familiar shoreline, that the disciples first heard Jesus call them to follow. And now, post-resurrection, they return to that same shore—bewildered, uncertain, perhaps even discouraged.

John 21 is a resurrection story—but not the kind filled with bright lights and empty tombs. It’s quieter. More personal. It is about Jesus meeting His disciples not in the upper room or temple, but by a charcoal fire with breakfast ready. It’s a story of restoration, calling, and grace.

Peter and the others were waiting in Galilee as Jesus had instructed. But waiting can be hard. Especially when your world has been turned upside down. Peter, once the impetuous leader of the disciples, had denied Jesus three times just days earlier. Now, in the aftermath of resurrection appearances and confusion, Peter returns to what he knows—fishing.

Sometimes, when we don’t know what to do next, we revert to the familiar. We retreat into routine. And that’s what Peter does here. Not in rebellion—but in confusion, in grief, perhaps in guilt.

How often do we do the same? When life feels uncertain—when faith feels fragile—we, too, go fishing. We busy ourselves with what is familiar, even if it doesn’t satisfy.

They fished all night and caught nothing. But then, at dawn, a voice from the shore calls out, “Children, have you any food?” No, they say. Nothing. And the voice tells them to cast their net on the right side. They obey—and the net is filled with fish. So many that they can’t even haul it in.

Does this scene sound familiar? It should. In Luke 5, at the beginning of Jesus’ ministry, a similar miracle took place. That time, Peter fell at Jesus’ feet and said, “Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord.” That moment was his calling to follow Jesus. This moment—after the resurrection—is his re-calling.

John, the beloved disciple, recognizes Jesus first: “It is the Lord!” And Peter, always impetuous, throws on his cloak and dives into the sea to get to Jesus. He can’t wait.

There is something beautiful here. The Risen Jesus meets them not in a synagogue or temple, but in their ordinary failure. He meets them after a long, empty night—and fills their nets. He meets us, too, not only in sanctuaries but in our disappointments, our empty hands, our long nights of toil. He comes to us when we feel we have nothing to offer.

Jesus doesn’t just provide a miraculous catch—He prepares breakfast. It’s such a humble, human moment. The Risen Lord of Glory, who defeated death, makes breakfast for His friends. What a Savior!

The last time Peter stood by a charcoal fire, he denied Jesus three times (John 18:18). That fire was in the courtyard of the high priest. This fire is on a beach of restoration. Jesus intentionally re-creates the scene—not to shame Peter, but to redeem it.

This is grace. Jesus does not scold or lecture. He feeds. He serves. He invites: “Come and have breakfast.” How many of us need that simple invitation from Jesus today? Come. Eat. Be with Me.

Even after resurrection, Jesus is not aloof or distant. He is present, close, tangible. He cooks, He eats, He serves. He wants fellowship with us.

Now comes the heart of the story.

After breakfast, Jesus turns to Peter and asks, “Simon, son of John, do you love Me more than these?” He does not use Peter’s nickname, “the rock,” but his given name—Simon. It’s serious. And He doesn’t just ask once, but three times.

Three denials. Three questions. Three affirmations.

Each time, Peter replies, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love You.” And each time, Jesus gives a charge: “Feed My lambs. Tend My sheep. Feed My sheep.”

This is not just forgiveness. It is restoration. Jesus doesn’t merely accept Peter back—He re-commissions him. He entrusts him with responsibility. Peter is not disqualified by his failure. In fact, his brokenness becomes part of his calling.

Isn’t that the Gospel? God doesn’t wait for perfect people. He calls flawed, failing, human people—and then works through them. Peter’s denial is not the end of his story. It becomes the place where grace writes a new beginning.

Jesus also hints at Peter’s future—“When you are old… you will stretch out your hands.” A reference to the kind of death Peter would suffer. Church tradition holds that Peter was crucified. But here, Jesus reframes that future not as a tragedy, but as a testimony of love.

What does this passage tell us today, in the season of Easter?

This story tells us that Jesus meets us where we are—not where we pretend to be. He comes to the lakeshores of our lives. Into our everyday, our failures, our waiting. And He shows up—not to rebuke, but to restore.

This story tells us that resurrection is not just about empty tombs, but about filled nets and renewed callings. The Risen Jesus is not only victorious—He is near. He provides. He invites us to breakfast. He restores us gently.

Failure is not the final word. Peter’s story didn’t end in the courtyard. Yours doesn’t end in shame or regret either. Jesus asks, “Do you love Me?” Not “Did you get everything right?” Love is the foundation of discipleship.

And that love, that grace is always followed by calling. “Feed My sheep.” If you’ve experienced the Risen Jesus—then you are called to serve, to care, to follow. Grace doesn’t excuse us from mission—it empowers us for it.

The passage ends as it began—on a beach, with Jesus saying two words: “Follow Me.”

Those words launched Peter’s journey years earlier. Now, post-resurrection, they are renewed. The same call. The same Lord. But a new grace.

Jesus speaks the same to us. No matter how far you’ve drifted, how empty your nets feel, how broken your past—Jesus stands on the shore, calls you “child,” feeds you, restores you, and says, “Follow Me.”

Amen.