Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord.    John 21:12

My Grandma and Grandpa Winters always had sweet treats around. Homemade bars, cookies, cakes, and pies were at the ready because company could show up any evening. Hostess and Little Debbie snacks were also in abundance because they pack easily for lunch on the farm. (Side note: the Midwest has four meals. Breakfast is before dawn, lunch comes mid-morning, dinner midday, and supper in the evening).

Looking back, I realize I was spoiled by the sweets. But what stays with me isn’t just the treats, it’s the table. Sitting together, laughing at familiar stories, welcoming whoever stopped by was the most meaningful.

This Sunday, we come to the closing chapter of John 21:1–14. It’s a quiet, almost ordinary ending. The disciples are back to fishing. The nets are empty. Morning comes slowly. And the unrecognized Jesus greets them with breakfast.

He had fish and bread ready for them when they came ashore. They knew it was Jesus, because they had experienced this act of love before. “Come and eat .” It wasn’t just the miracle of nets filled with fish that triggered it, rather the invitation.

They recognize him not just because of what he does, but because of how it feels. It feels like care. It feels like being known and welcomed. It feels like love. This is the point John wants to make, that resurrection shows up in the quiet and familiar acts of care that remind us we are not alone.

Together we’ll explore how the story ends with Jesus’ presence and an invitation into joy. And maybe we’ll discover that the greatest gift isn’t what’s on the table… but who is at the table with us.

The prompt question for you to think about this week: “Who in your life showed you love through food?”

I look forward to hearing your stories.   

Brett