The First Breakfast

When we come to the Table, we like to talk about the Last Supper. After all, it was here where Jesus said, "Do this in remembrance of Me." So, remembering, here we are. 

Yet, there's more to the way that we feast with Jesus than just this. 

In that Upper Room, the disciples had no idea. None. They had traveled with Jesus for somewhere around three years, heard many sermons, taken in many parables, witnessed many healings. They were living the good life, really. Sure, the Pharisees and Sadducees were constant antagonists, but for the most part, the yoke was easy. At least, they don't tell us if it wasn't. 

In that Upper Room, they were breaking bread like they had probably done a thousand times before, their Lord and Rabbi so close to them that the disciple whom He loved could lay his head on Jesus's chest. As deeply-ingrained in their Jewish nature as the ritual of Passover was, there was something light and airy about the room. Something casual. Something...familial. (Read that again - familial.) A gathering of brothers, good friends, students. Teacher. 

In that Upper Room, very little was different than it had been every other day, as far as the disciples knew. They had probably even celebrated this meal with Jesus and maybe with some subset of each other twice already. After all, faithful Jews held this feast every year, so we can be certain that Jesus, at least, did. And we can be certain He did not eat it alone. 

And while that's all well and good, there's something about it that can seem disconnected from our own experience. Because we don't live on the Passover side of Golgotha; we live in the shadow of the Cross. 

And that Cross changes everything. 

Last week, we talked about the Next Supper - the next meal that the disciples had to eat, the first one they had to eat without Him. What it must have been like to break that bread. But remember, Jesus didn't stay away long. 

Three. simple. days. 

Then, here He was again. And look what He's doing - He's preparing another meal. 

Let's call this the First Breakfast.

The disciples are out fishing. They don't know what else to do now that their Lord is gone, so they go back to what they know. But it seems they don't know it all that well any more because they've been at it all night and haven't caught a single thing. Not a one. 

Then, there's this guy, this stranger, and they catch sight of Him over on the shore. And He's...grilling some fish. Fresh fish. Like it's nothing at all. Like these masters of their craft haven't just come up empty after a long night on the lake. Like He is just somehow casting a line and reeling in breakfast. Just like that. 

And this is important. Because remember what Jesus said at the Last Supper? He said they would not have this meal again until all things were finished. And then, remember what Jesus said on the Cross? He said, it is finished. And now, here He is on the shore of the lake, grilling up fish and breaking bread, and you can just see the grin on His face - after all the disciples have been through for three days, after all their doubts, their fears, their disappointments, after how lost they have felt without their Rabbi all of a sudden, after the mocking of the Roman guard and, we can say, the Pharisees and the Sadducees and a whole host of other persons who were all around who all have the same taunt: Messiah? Ha! 

But now, but now you can just see the grin on His face as He takes the bread, blesses it, breaks it, hands it out to the weary fishermen...and zealots...and tax collectors...and doubters...and...and says, It really is finished. 

Take and eat.