Jesus said to them, “Come and have breakfast.” — John 21:12a.
When I stumbled upon today’s verse, I did a double-take worthy of a cartoon character. “Wait a minute,” I thought, “How did this gem slip past me all these years?”
The sheer, unadulterated comfort of this simple verse. Here’s the Son of God, fresh from his monumental moment of conquering death itself, and what’s on his agenda? Not a fire-and-brimstone sermon or a dazzling display of celestial pyrotechnics. Nope. It’s a wonderfully human invitation: “Hey folks, the grill’s hot, and the fish are on.” You almost expect him to ask if anyone remembered the Tabasco!
Probably this verse resonates so much with me because I love a good breakfast and the even better company. Every Thursday morning, a band of brothers gathers for precisely that at a restaurant in Charlotte: sustenance for the body and soul, liberally seasoned with tall tales and laughter – our own version of ‘chewing the fat.’ My dad attended a similar gathering at Bard’s in Little Rock. Bard’s big round table wasn’t just furniture; it was a launchpad for stories, a forge for friendships, fueled by strong coffee and some “to die for” biscuits.
It speaks volumes that Jesus, with his profound understanding of the human heart, sent his disciples out in twos. He knew the power of having a wingman, someone to share the journey, shoulder the burdens, and, yes, share a breakfast. Those moments of breaking bread weren’t just about filling empty stomachs; they were about building a foundation of trust, nurturing love, and weaving the fabric of community.
So, after conquering death, what’s on Jesus’s to-do list? Gather the crew for breakfast. It’s a beautiful, gentle reminder that even amidst the extraordinary, the ordinary acts of sharing a meal and good company are sacred. It’s grace served over-easy, restoration with a side of grits, and the simple joy of just being together.
Might I do the same here at The Hubbell Pew? Absolutely! While my culinary skills might elicit more than a raised eyebrow from Suzy (“Biscuits and gravy? Are you crazy?”), I can wholeheartedly offer a seat at our metaphorical table. Consider this an open invitation to all – men and women – to pull up a chair, share your thoughts, your joys, your even-slightly-burnt breakfast stories. What’s on your mind today?
Best breakfast of my life for sure!
When I first started practice in 1972, our office was downtown as were most of the other lawyers’ offices – we would meet every morning at the Broadway Grill at a big table and regale each other with various stories – our firm moved off the avenue and the Broadway Grill closed – the breakfast table was never replicated anywhere else – I miss those times