John 21:1-14

            {Prayer}

            They’d been out there all night … casting, straining, waiting. For all their toil … they came up with nothing. No food. Nothing to show for the effort.

            Don’t you just hate moments like that. You do all the right things, you’re working as hard as you can, and yet you still have this feeling of being empty. That all of your effort was wasted.

            When the disciples returned to shore, there is something astonishing waiting for them. There’s a fire. A fire that had been burning a while. The coals are glowing. On this fire there is bread and fish. All prepared and ready to be eaten. Jesus didn’t ask the disciples to bring their success, He simply invited them to a meal He had already made. The fire was already burning. And that fire tells us something important about the heart of our risen Savior. Not only does He prepare grace ahead of us, not only does He meet us in our weariness … He welcomes us back, without any demands … but with breakfast.

            Let’s set the scene up that lead up to this breakfast. Simon Peter tells the others … “I’m going fishing.” The others decide to join him. John writes that “They went out and got into the boat, but that night they caught nothing” (John 21:3). They cast their nets. They strained. They waited. The result of their all-night fishing expedition provided them with absolutely nothing. Before Jesus, they had made their living by fishing. They knew the techniques and the tricks. They knew where the secret hot spots were. And yet they caught nothing. Try to imagine how deflated they must have felt.

            Actually, I don’t think we have to try too hard to imagine how deflated they felt. I’m sure there has been at least one time when you’ve tried something, you’ve put all your effort into it, only to get the results you weren’t looking for. Sometimes we try so many different things in hope that one of them may work out for us, but even then … there is still this feeling of emptiness.

            But here’s the thing … while the disciples were out working in the dark … Jesus was already on the shore and the fire was already burning. A fire isn’t built in an instant. It takes time. The fire was already burning, before the disciples’ efforts produced anything. While they struggled, Jesus was working. And when you think about it … God is often working behind the scenes. He’s preparing something long before we see the results.

            Take this call process as an example. We didn’t know that the pastor we were going to receive needed to start his seminary training first.

            Let’s go back to the Gospel lesson. As the disciples sail toward the beach after a toilsome night, Jesus asks them from the shore if they had any fish. Having none, Jesus tells them to let their net down on the right side of the boat. They were probably like, “Why not? It can’t hurt. Maybe we’ll get lucky and catch some breakfast.” So, they let their net down and they catch so many fish they were unable to haul the net into the boat. Realizing the guy on the shore was Jesus, Peter abandons the others and swims to shore. Eventually the disciples get all the fish to the shore. You’d think after all that effort, Jesus would say, “Great! Let’s cook up some fish.” But no! Even though Jesus told them to bring some of the fish they just caught, by the time the disciples got to Jesus, the fire was already burning and the fish and bread were already prepared.

            You see, Jesus didn’t need the disciple’s fish. The truth is … Jesus doesn’t need what we bring. We tend to think that what I have is great and that Jesus needs it from me, but in all actuality, what we bring to Jesus is insufficient and stained with sin. It’s not you and me who supplies us with what we need but instead it’s Jesus. Jesus is the One who supplies you and me with everything we truly need.

            And yet, that doesn’t seem to stop us from exhausting ourselves in trying to earn our way into heaven or trying to impress God with how good we think we’ve been. We often think we know what is best for our lives. We know the techniques and tricks to get the things we need. We know which buttons to push for people to recognize and acknowledge us.

            But despite all the fluff we show to others … Jesus isn’t impressed. Jesus looks through the frills and simply says, “Come and have breakfast” (21:12). Accepting us as we are, Jesus invites us into a relationship. With hot coals, with cooked fish and bread, Jesus invites us to stick around a while and receive from Him.

            But there is more going on here than just breakfast with the disciples and a chance to chill with Jesus. This fire … these glowing coals … there’s some meaning within them. These glowing coals would have meant something to Peter. You see, this isn’t the first time Peter was near a charcoal fire. The last time Peter was near a charcoal fire was when he was in the high priest’s courtyard warming himself. Peter is warming himself by the fire while Jesus was on trial. There at that fire, Peter was questioned about his association with Jesus, but denied everything. He denied knowing Jesus three different times. That fire marked his lowest moment. The moment of failure. The moment of his guilt.

            And now … here he is again, at another charcoal fire. But this time, there’s no angry crowd. No accusations. Only Jesus, the other disciples … and breakfast. It’s not time for the conversation yet, but the time is coming. But already, Jesus is doing something. He’s drawing Peter back. Not to punish, but to restore. The fire is already burning … not just for provision, but for healing, for restoration.

            While the fire was burning for the disciples … Jesus invited them and welcomed them to have breakfast. He invited them in to a time of hospitality where they didn’t have to produce anything, do anything. Jesus provided for them everything they needed there in that moment.

            That fire … that fire is still burning today. It’s burning today and you’re invited. Jesus said to the disciples, “Come and have breakfast” (John 21:12). Jesus says to you and me … “Come and take and eat. Come and take and drink.” Jesus still feeds His disciples, He feeds you. Not with fish, but with His very own body and blood. Jesus feeds you with His Word and with His Spirit.

            On Pentecost, the Holy Spirit would descend upon the disciples in the form of fire. That fire burned within their hearts as it led them to speak the Word of God. It led them to live out their faith, even in the midst of questioning, trials, and persecution. That same Holy Spirit, that same fire, burns within you.

            Every Sunday, every Lord’s Supper, every time you are in the Word … the fire of God’s presence still burns.

            There’s an old story pastors love to tell.

            There’s a man who hadn’t been in worship for a long time. His pastor stopped by one day for a visit. The man was polite but quiet. The pastor said nothing. Instead, he walked over to the fireplace, took the tongs and slowly pulled one glowing goal away from the burning pile. Then he sat down in silence. They both watched as the lone coal, separated from the others, slowly dimmed. It became cold and gray. After a few minutes, the pastor picked it up with the tongs and placed it back in the fire. As it touched the others, it came to life again, glowing red with renewed flame.

            The man looked at the pastor and said, “I’ll see you on Sunday.”

            That is the kind of fire Jesus builds. One that draws us in from the cold. A fire that restores what’s gone dim. A fire that was already burning before you ever showed up.

            Maybe today you feel like that lone coal … tired, burned out, drifting. But hear this: Jesus still sets the fire. He still calls you by name. And there is a place for you at His table.

            Come back to the warmth. Come back to the fire. It’s still burning … and Jesus is still there. Amen.

            The peace of God, that surpasses all human understanding, guard your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus our Lord, now and forever. Amen.