In the gospel of John
Jesus says, “Let's have breakfast.”
And he has a grill and he has the fish and he has the bread
And his old friends sit down around a campfire ring
on a Galilee beach side morning
and they talk.
Relational love.
In between the “pass the butter”
they probably laugh some
and they probably recall moments,
I am sure they have questions
they long to ask,
some do, but they still wonder.
In these moments, though,
the doubting is gone.
The dear disciples,
on fire for Christ
had already heard of his return.
Some had even already seen
nails in palms, the risen man.
And yet, they were awake that night-
headed out to fish.
Casting nets on the wrong side,
-again-
leaving Godly callings
to head back to empty nets
and midnight wanderings
in a sea seemingly void of fish.
At the very hour that God looks down
and longs for these men
to come back to shore,
Christ chuckles, and calls out -
knowing full well
their boats were anchored to seaweed, fears, old sins and insecurities,
He calls out an old memory
and suggests they try the right side of the boat instead.
This is Peter's do over.
And if he gets one, so do you.
So do I.
Christ returns
for relational love
and sets up at our campsite
with the food and words we need to hear.
The shame and pain we bring with us
packed in our sacks, our sins we try to keep-
He unloads over breakfast.
Peter's denial.
The roosters mocking crow-call.
Christ replaces as a dove song.
For our failures
cannot frustrate God's plan.
He stands outside of time.
He has beach-side breakfast mornings
planned months and years ahead.
Relational love.
He wants to feed us.
He wants to laugh and hug us-
to say that my great sin
is small
compared to his great love.
Sweet God of second chances.
Thank you for loving me enough
to make me breakfast.
