Breakfast on the Beach

Living the Resurrection

Resurrection did not begin with a sermon. After the shock of the empty tomb, after fear and disbelief, after locked doors and unfinished conversations, Jesus Christ does something so ordinary it is almost anticlimactic.

He makes breakfast.

Bread.
Fish.
A charcoal fire.
Morning light.
Tired bodies.
Hungry souls.

This is how resurrection announces itself—not as spectacle, but as presence.

“The surprising thing about biblical spirituality is that God is present in the ordinary, daily, common, and concrete realities of life.”1

“God is forming us into a new people. And the place of that formation is in the small moments of today.”2

Resurrection doesn’t pull us out of the world; it restores us to it. And here, on the beach, resurrection smells like smoke and fish and fishing nets. What we are invited into, as were these disciples, is resurrection breakfast—the most dramatic event in human history captured in quiet, small, and ordinary things. Read More

Easter Sunday

I’ve been to Jerusalem where I saw what some traditions believe was the place of Jesus’ birth and nearby to where they think he was buried. Lots of gold, jewels, silver, and a certain kind of beauty. But I’ve also seen places “off the beaten path” where others imagined birth and burial: I am moved by those places. No gold, jewels, silver, or “glory,”  just terra firma under our feet. We know the stable pictures of the Nativity and we can imagine a huge round stone in front of a cave-like tomb on Good Friday and Easter Sunday. Read More