Date: Wednesday, April 22, 2026
Lectionary Cycle: Year A, Easter Season
Source: Vanderbilt Revised Common Lectionary
It had been a long, exhausting night on the Sea of Tiberias. The disciples, still reeling from the trauma of the crucifixion and the bewildered joy of the empty tomb, returned to what they knew best: the grind. They cast their nets all night, working the system and trying to pull up something tangible, yet they caught nothing. For Peter, physical exhaustion was likely compounded by a heavy inner critic. The negative self-talk must have been deafening; he had denied his Lord when it mattered most, likely feeling he had let everyone down.
In modern life, it is common to find ourselves in that same boat. We work tirelessly to navigate broken, complicated systems. Whether chasing down elusive paperwork at work, supporting a loved one through the compounding losses of aging, navigating relationships, or managing the relentless and often unexpected demands of the week. This is often set against a global backdrop where news feeds are a constant barrage of conflict and economic anxiety. It is easy to feel as though we are fishing in the dark and coming up empty. The inner critic whispers that we aren't doing enough and that the sheer volume of need rests entirely on our shoulders.
However, as morning breaks, a figure stands on the shore. In John 21, Jesus does not demand a performance review or a strategic plan. Instead, having already built a charcoal fire, he offers a simple invitation: "Come and have breakfast."
This is a profound, everyday kind of grace. In Exodus 24, the elders of Israel see God and, rather than being consumed by demands, they "ate and drank." God’s presence is often found not in spectacular requirements, but in the quiet provision of a meal. Whatever guilt, burnout, or sense of failure is being carried today, the invitation is not to try harder or fish longer. The invitation is to pull the boat ashore, sit by the fire of grace, and be fed. Get the energy you need to forgive, to heal, to rebuild, to reset, to continue to love.
Artwork: The Great Catch
Artist: John August Swanson (1938-2021)
View Image: Vanderbilt Digital Library RC=56550
Meditation:
Swanson’s vibrant print captures the collective, ordinary labor of the fishermen hauling in a miraculous catch. It depicts everyday work illuminated by sudden, unexpected abundance. As you observe the intricate lines and rich colors, remember that Christ enters even the most mundane or frustrating efforts. We are not expected to manufacture the miracle; we are simply asked to cast the net where He points and join Him on the shore for rest.
Gracious God,
We confess that we spend much of our time striving in the dark. We carry the weight of our own expectations, the anxieties of our world, and the fear that we have fallen short. Thank you for when we are exhausted and empty-handed, you do not meet us with demands, but with an invitation to rest. Feed us today with your presence. Quiet our negative self-talk with your words of grace, and send us back into the world nourished and loved. In the name of the Risen Christ, Amen.