When they climbed out on shore, they saw a charcoal fire with fish on it and bread. Jesus said to them, “Bring some of the fish you just caught.” So Simon Peter went over and dragged the net ashore full of one hundred fifty-three large fish. Even though there were so many, the net was not torn. Jesus said to them, “Come, have breakfast.” (John 21.9-12)
Biblical scholars generally agree that Chapter 21 of the Gospel of John is an epilogue. In other words, it was added on at some point. The final two verses of Chapter 20 stated the conclusion of the gospel by the evangelist. His sign-off was clear, writing, “Now Jesus did many other signs in the presence of his disciples that are not written in this book. But these are written that you may come to believe.”It remains unknown why this additional chapter was attached to the original text.
The text contains a post-resurrection appearance by the Risen Lord to his first followers. Again, there are unusual elements in the story that are not found in the other appearances. The writer states that this was “the third time that Jesus was revealed to his disciples after he had risen from the dead.” However, by all counts, it should have been the fourth.
The first was to Mary Magdalene in the garden. The second was to the disciples–without Thomas present–in the Upper Room. The third was to the disciples–with Thomas present–in the Upper Room. And now, in this fourth appearance, he appears to seven of the disciples (Peter, Thomas, Nathanael, the sons of Zebedee, and two others, unnamed.) No explanation is offered for the absence of the others.
Also, this appearance takes place at the Sea of Galilee, a major shift of geography in the gospel. Since Chapter 7, the setting has been Jerusalem, including the previous three appearances after the resurrection. It is an abrupt change in location. Again, no explanation is provided, except these seven seemingly have returned to their old habits, that is fishing.
Oddly, it is only in this scene in the Fourth Gospel that the sons of Zebedee–James and John–are specifically mentioned, whereas, as we know, they appear regularly in the synoptic texts, their sudden presence in this epilogue adding to the mystery of the writer’s intent. Perhaps he includes them because he knows they are fishermen.
Another curiosity of the story. A miraculous catch of fish also takes place in the Gospel of Luke, but at the start of the ministry of Rabbi Jesus (Chapter 5), not after the resurrection, as it does here. In Luke’s gospel, the miraculous catch provides Rabbi Jesus the opportunity to invite the fishermen to follow him, hence serving as a call narrative. Here, in the Gospel of John, the miraculous catch serves as a commissioning narrative, the followers told to tend to the sheep.
While these aspects of the story offer conundrums, one thing is clear. The appearance of the Resurrected Lord in this scene in the Fourth Gospel is at a meal, specifically at breakfast. In this respect, it carries overtones of the appearance to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. Here, as there, there is an initial failure to recognize the Risen Lord. Here, as there, there is a meal. Here, as there, there is at last a recognition of who he is.
In the Emmaus story, the recognition comes with the breaking of the bread at the table. And, in many ways, there is a similar table fellowship here on the shore of the Sea of Galilee. The Risen Lord invites the fishermen to “come, have breakfast.” Then, he “came over and took the bread and gave it to them and in like manner the fish.” If the words have a familiar ring, they should. Much the same description was given when Rabbi Jesus fed the five thousand with five loaves and two fish. And there is much in this scene that recalls the Last Supper, although there is no reference to the breaking of the bread.
Because the appearance at the Sea of Galilee is choked full of important details, this food aspect is often overlooked, lost in the rush to hear Simon’s three-part affirmation of love of Rabbi Jesus, reversing his three-time denial of him. And, in all likelihood, the confession of Simon is intended as the central point of the scene. It is no coincidence that the evangelist uses a charcoal fire as the backdrop of the story; the only other place in the gospel where a charcoal fire appears is in the scene of Simon’s denial in the courtyard, the charcoal fire connecting the two events in the same way as the thrice-asked question does.
Just as often, attention is given to the miraculous catch of fish at the start of the story, the disciples having no luck with bringing in any fish until the Risen Lord offers them instructions on where to cast their nets. Not a little ink has been spilled on the significance of the 153 large fish that are hauled in, the nets laden with the catch, but not tearing. Among other suggestions, early commentators offered the theory that the number reflected the totality of the nations of peoples inhabiting the earth at the time.
All these are worthy areas of study and reflection, but we would be negligent if we failed to recognize that the setting for this scene is a meal. Food provided and shared is at the heart of the story, as much as other dimensions. It seems purposeful that the evangelist should place in this epilogue a meal, so central to the ministry of Rabbi Jesus, who sat and ate with tax-collectors and sinners as part of his outreach to the last and to the least.
And no small irony is found in the fact that the Fourth Gospel has at the start the changing of the water into wine at the wedding celebration in Cana, an overabundance of drink provided to those at table, and here, at the end of the gospel, there is a netful of fish, an overabundance of food now provided to the hungry disciples. Food and drink at the start and at the finish. Beautiful bookends to the table fellowship that occupies the central part of Rabbi Jesus’ message and method.
The significance of food in the ministry of Rabbi Jesus cannot be overstated. Not only does he feed the hungry on multiple occasions, he also institutes a meal as the primary means of continuing his ministry in the world, gathering all sorts of people around a common table, breaking bread, drinking wine, and remembering his life and his ways during this conviviality.
Obviously, eating is essential to our livelihood. Without food, a person starves, flesh withering away, bones poking through skin. When Rabbi Jesus fed those who were hungry, he was addressing a primary need of every living being, the need for nourishment. When he saw someone who was hungry, he did not hesitate to find a means of alleviating the hunger that stole the life of the person suffering from it.
But always, whenever and wherever he offered food or offered a place at his table, he was providing another essential human need–the need for connection. Eating food is primarily a communal activity, that aspect only lost in more recent times and in our culture as we allow other things to usurp our common meal times, resulting in take-out meals eaten in our cars or tv dinners heated in the microwave as we tune into the daily news.
In previous ages and in other cultures, eating a meal was done together, celebrating with one another the gift of food as well as the gift of one another. Today, some cultures still remember these twin vital needs that a shared meal provides–the need for sustenance and the need for connection–a meal never crammed into mouths in a few minutes, instead an hour-long celebration of life and togetherness, deliberate and delicious.
When Rabbi Jesus invited tax-collectors and sinners to sit at table with him, he answered their need for bodily nourishment and their need for a spiritual connection. Estranged and alienated from society, these cast-offs and rejects found acceptance and community at Rabbi Jesus’ table, his embrace of them a recognition of a shared humanity and a shared paternity. When they left his table, they were renewed in body and in spirit, one again with the human family.
Today, the work of World Central Kitchen is an example of the continuation of Rabbi Jesus’ efforts to feed hungry stomachs and hungry spirits. Founded in 2010 by Chef Jose Andres as a relief effort to Haiti after the earthquake devastated the country, WCK has continued in the past dozen years to fed the hungry in other areas of devastation, including the people of Puerto Rico after Hurricane Maria, the people of Beirut after the blast that destroyed much of the city, and in Australia where bushfires have ravaged much of the landscape.
Now, World Central Kitchen is again at work in Ukraine, where its volunteers serve 35,000 meals a day to hungry families in a dozen cities as well as places in Poland, Hungary, Romania and Slovakia where refugees from Ukraine have fled for safety. Chef Andres once explained his mission simply, saying the idea came to him and to his wife Patricia years ago when they realized that “when people are hungry, send in the cooks–not tomorrow, today.”
Asked about his continued efforts in war-torn Ukraine, Chef Andres offered this thought, “Everyone knows that food is central to life and family all over the world. What we learned very quickly was that food is even more essential in a crisis.” He continued, “You see, food relief is not just a meal that keeps hunger away. It’s a plate of hope. It tells you in your darkest hour that someone, somewhere cares about you. This,” he said, “is the real meaning of comfort food.”
He added, “After a disaster, food is the fastest way to rebuild our sense of community. We can put people back to work preparing it, and we can put lives back together by fighting hunger. Cooking and eating together is what makes us human.” Cooking and eating together is what makes us human.
It is for the same reason that the Risen Lord cooked fish and offered bread to the seven disciples who were broken in spirit, not only because they had caught nothing in their boats throughout the night, but because they had witnessed the humiliating death and defeat of their Teacher at the hands of the powerful elite in Jerusalem, returning now to the Sea of Galilee to lick their wounds and to try to heal their broken hearts.
As he had provided food to empty stomachs and had offered a sense of community to broken spirits during his days in Galilee, once again he does the same to his fallen-away disciples, broken in every way that humanity breaks. In this final appearance in the Gospel of John, he makes clear that his table fellowship has not ended with his death, but continues even now as he feeds their bodies and mends their spirits, bringing back life to the lifeless.
If there is any doubt in our minds as to the significance of this event, it is dispelled in the exchange between the Risen Lord and Simon when he asks his first disciple to state unequivocally his love, and Simon, regretful and remorseful for his spinelessness in the Teacher’s hour of need, answers, “Yes, Lord, you know that I love you.” And the Risen Lord then responds, “Feed my sheep.”
With those few words, the Glorified Christ, as he provides a meal to his followers around a charcoal fire on the shores of the Sea of Galilee, makes clear his expectations for those who would walk his path in this world. Their love for him will be found in their feeding the hungry, providing food to those broken in body and in spirit, offering to them not only a shared table, but a shared humanity.
–Jeremy Myers
Sunday Brunch 