Breakfast with the King: The Hospitality of the Resurrection Text: John 21:12-14
Introduction: The World in a Handbasket
We live in an age of profound dislocation. Men and women are alienated, first from God, and consequently from one another. We have manufactured a society of atomized individuals, connected by nothing more substantial than Wi-Fi signals and shared consumer preferences. We bowl alone, we eat alone, we live alone. The result is a gnawing loneliness, a quiet desperation that all the noise of our digital age cannot drown out. The modern world tells you that you are the captain of your own soul, the master of your own fate, but it leaves you adrift on a vast and meaningless sea, with no port to call home.
Into this cold, impersonal world, the Christian faith speaks a radical word: hospitality. Not the cheap, sentimental hospitality of a greeting card, but the robust, substantive, Christ-centered hospitality that is woven into the fabric of reality. The central act of our faith is a meal. The Lord's Supper is not a snack; it is a covenant renewal ceremony, a family dinner where our Father feeds us. From the garden, to the Passover, to the Upper Room, to the Marriage Supper of the Lamb, the story of redemption is a story of God making a way to eat with man again.
This scene in John 21 is a profound exhibition of this truth. The disciples are disoriented. They have seen the risen Lord, yes, but the reality of it has not yet fully landed. What are they to do now? Peter, in a moment of uncertainty, reverts to what he knows: "I am going fishing." And the others follow. They toil all night and catch nothing. They are adrift, fruitless, and running on empty. And it is into this moment of failure and confusion that the risen Christ walks. He does not come with a thunderous rebuke or a five-point plan for strategic ministry. He comes as a host. He builds a fire, He cooks a meal, and He says, "Come, have breakfast."
This is not a trivial detail. This is the gospel in miniature. This is the Creator of the cosmos, the resurrected Lord of glory, stooping to serve His failed and weary friends. This passage shows us that the resurrection is not an abstract doctrine but a tangible, fish-and-bread reality. It is a reality that meets us in our exhaustion, provides for our needs, and restores our fellowship. And it establishes the pattern for all Christian life and ministry. Our God is a hospitable God, and He has called us to be a hospitable people.
The Text
Jesus said to them, “Come, have breakfast.” None of the disciples dared to question Him, “Who are You?” knowing that it was the Lord.
Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and the fish likewise.
This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to the disciples, after He was raised from the dead.
(John 21:12-14 LSB)
The Gracious Invitation (v. 12)
We begin with the simple, yet profound, invitation from our Lord in verse 12.
"Jesus said to them, 'Come, have breakfast.' None of the disciples dared to question Him, 'Who are You?' knowing that it was the Lord." (John 21:12)
Consider the context. These men had, in various ways, abandoned Him. Peter, most notoriously, had denied Him three times. They had spent the night in fruitless labor, a stark reminder of their own insufficiency. They were tired, they were hungry, and they were likely wrestling with a potent mixture of guilt and confusion. And Jesus' first order of business is not to lecture them, but to feed them. "Come, have breakfast."
This is grace in action. This is covenantal restoration. In the ancient world, to share a meal was to share peace, to declare fellowship. For Jesus to offer them food was to say, "It is alright. You are still Mine. We are still together." He takes the initiative. He doesn't wait for them to grovel or perform some act of penance. He provides the fire, He provides the fish and bread He already has, and He invites them into His circle of warmth and provision. This is the gospel. God does not say, "Clean yourselves up, and then you can come to My table." He says, "Come to My table, and I will make you clean."
Notice the disciples' reaction. "None of the disciples dared to question Him, 'Who are You?' knowing that it was the Lord." There was an aura about the resurrected Christ. He was familiar, yet different. He was their friend and master, but He was also the glorified King. There was an awe, a holy reticence. They knew it was Him, not by a mere physical recognition, but by the whole atmosphere of the event. Who else but Jesus would meet them in their failure with such sovereign grace? Who else would command a miraculous catch of fish and then serve them breakfast? The act itself was a signature. The Shepherd was caring for His sheep.
This is a powerful lesson for us. Our relationship with Christ is not one of equals. We do not approach Him casually, as we would a buddy. There is an awe, a reverence that is due to the risen King. And yet, this awesome King is the one who invites us to breakfast. He bids us come. We must hold both truths in tension: the holy fear of His majesty and the profound comfort of His gracious invitation.
The Lord Who Serves (v. 13)
Verse 13 shows us the humility and service of the risen Lord.
"Jesus came and took the bread and gave it to them, and the fish likewise." (John 21:13 LSB)
This action is saturated with theological significance. The language deliberately echoes the feeding of the five thousand and, more importantly, the Last Supper. "He took... and gave it to them." This is the posture of a host, of a provider. This is the Lord of glory, who spoke the galaxies into existence, now stooping to serve these fishermen. He is demonstrating what He had taught them just before His death: "the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many" (Mark 10:45).
The resurrection did not change His character. It magnified it. His power is revealed not in raw, coercive force, but in humble, life-giving service. He is the ultimate host, the one who prepares a table for us in the presence of our enemies. What we see here on the beach is a picture of our entire salvation. Christ is the one who provides the meal. He is the one who serves the meal. And, ultimately, He is the meal. He is the bread of life and the fish who came from the deep of death to give us life.
This act of serving them is also a powerful repudiation of all pagan notions of deity. The gods of the nations are demanding, capricious, and self-serving. They must be placated and served by their worshippers. The God of the Bible is a giving God, a serving God. The Father gives the Son, the Son gives His life, and the Father and Son give the Spirit. Our God is a fountain of overflowing, self-giving love. This breakfast on the beach is a display of the very nature of the Trinity.
The Unmistakable Reality (v. 14)
Finally, John gives us a historical anchor, grounding this event in the sequence of Christ's post-resurrection appearances.
"This is now the third time that Jesus was manifested to the disciples, after He was raised from the dead." (John 21:14 LSB)
John is a careful historian. He is not recounting a myth or a spiritual feeling. He is bearing witness to objective, historical events. He counts the appearances to the assembled disciples: first on the evening of the resurrection without Thomas, second a week later with Thomas, and now this, the third time. This methodical counting underscores the reality of the resurrection. This was not a one-time hallucination. This was a repeated, verifiable, bodily manifestation of the risen Jesus.
The word "manifested" is crucial. It means to be revealed, to be made known. The resurrection was the great revealing of who Jesus truly was. He was not just a great teacher or a prophet; He was the Son of God with power (Romans 1:4). And this manifestation was not a ghostly apparition. He eats. Ghosts don't need breakfast. The fact that He eats with them is one of the most powerful proofs of the bodily nature of His resurrection. It is the ultimate anti-Gnostic statement. God is not saving souls out of bodies; He is redeeming embodied souls. The creation is good, and it will be resurrected and glorified, just as the Creator was.
This third appearance also carries a sense of establishment and confirmation. In Scripture, a matter is established by two or three witnesses (Deut. 19:15). This third manifestation solidifies the testimony. It leaves no room for doubt. The Lord is risen indeed. And this established fact is the foundation of everything. If Christ is not raised, our faith is futile, we are still in our sins, and we are of all men most to be pitied (1 Cor. 15:17-19). But because He was manifested a first, a second, and a third time, our faith is secure, our sins are forgiven, and our future is as solid as His empty tomb.
Conclusion: Your Invitation to Breakfast
This scene is more than a historical account; it is a standing invitation. Like the disciples, we often find ourselves weary from fruitless labor. We go back to our old nets, trying to find purpose and meaning in our own strength, and we toil all night for nothing. We are tired, hungry, and keenly aware of our failures.
And it is precisely into that place that Jesus comes. He stands on the shore of our lives, and He calls to us. He has already prepared the fire. He has already provided the meal. His invitation is simple and profound: "Come, have breakfast." He is inviting you out of your failure and into His fellowship. He is inviting you out of your emptiness and into His provision. He is inviting you out of your guilt and into His grace.
The Christian life is a life of responding to this invitation, day after day. We come to His Word, and He feeds us. We come to His Table, and He serves us. We gather with His people, and He is present in our midst. He takes our pathetic, empty-handed efforts and, by His grace, He fills our nets. He takes our brokenness, our denials, and our disobedience, and He covers it all with the expansive hospitality of the cross.
The Lord who served breakfast on the shores of Galilee is the same Lord who rules from heaven today. And He is the same Lord who will one day return and host the greatest dinner party of all time, the marriage supper of the Lamb. The invitation has been sent, written in the blood of the host. The only question is, will you accept? Will you come to the fire, confess your need, and let the risen King serve you? Come, have breakfast.