Children, do you have any fish
Jesus opens his conversation with the bewildered diciples in this week’s Gospel John 21: 1-19 with the question ‘Children, do you have any fish?’ It was ‘just as day was breaking’ and they had fished all night without catching any. We can well imagine their state of confusion - they had witnessed Jesus crucified and died and yet he had appeared to them twice since, confirming his foretold resurrection.
Jesus had previously said ‘Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these’. Matthew 19:14. And here he was referring to them as children - subtly telling them that they belonged to the kingdom of heaven. John reinforces this idea with the line - ‘just as day was breaking’. The kingdom of heaven was breaking into the world!!
This gentle yet profound moment reveals how Jesus meets his disciples in their uncertainty, with tenderness and invitation. He was compassionately drawing them to a realization of their identity in the new life of the Kingdom. They are beloved, chosen, and part of something greater than they can yet fully grasp.
This considerate opening, to this engagement, tells us so much about the way Jesus enters into our lives. He does not force understanding or demand immediate belief; instead, He meets us where we are—confused, tired, perhaps disillusioned—and gently calls us to relationship.
Just as dawn was breaking for the disciples, so too does Jesus bring light into the shadowed places of our own lives, reminding us that even in our emptiness, He is near, ready to guide us to a new Kingdom.
This is the third week of Easter, and we also have witnessed the great revelation of the Easter celebrations. Yet, we have not fully grasped the transformative meaning for our lives. For us also - day is just breaking.
Like the disciples, we are still learning to recognize the Risen Lord standing on the shore of our daily lives, calling out to us with love and purpose. Easter is not a single moment, but a continual unfolding—a slow and steady dawning of light that illumines our fears, renews our hope, and invites us into deeper communion with Christ.
As we journey through this Easter season, may we remain open, like children, to the gentle voice of Jesus, and allow His presence to draw us into the fullness of the Kingdom breaking into our hearts and our world.