Come and have some breakfast

We had a vestry retreat today. The facilitator's theme, appropriate for a morning gathering, was "Come and have some breakfast." She read, then distributed, the story of Jesus' final post-resurrection appearance n the Gospel of John, when he shares bread and grilled fish with some of his disciples. But she used a 1971 translation into contemporary language, The Living Bible, that made it unfamiliar - in part by putting it in the first person.

Later Jesus appeared again to the disciples beside the Lake of Galilee. This is how it happened: 

A group of us were there—Simon Peter, Thomas, “The Twin,” Nathanael from Cana in Galilee, my brother James and I and two other disciples. 

Simon Peter said, “I’m going fishing.” “We’ll come too,” we all said. We did, but caught nothing all night. 

At dawn we saw a man standing on the beach but couldn’t see who he was. 

He called, “Any fish, boys?”

“No,” we replied. 

Then he said, “Throw out your net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you’ll get plenty of them!” So we did, and couldn’t draw in the net because of the weight of the fish, there were so many! 

Then I said to Peter, “It is the Lord!” At that, Simon Peter put on his tunic (for he was stripped to the waist) and jumped into the water and swam ashore. 

The rest of us stayed in the boat and pulled the loaded net to the beach, about 300 feet away. 

When we got there, we saw that a fire was kindled and fish were frying over it, and there was bread. 

“Bring some of the fish you’ve just caught,” Jesus said. 

So Simon Peter went out and dragged the net ashore. By his count there were 153 large fish; and yet the net hadn’t torn. 

“Now come and have some breakfast!” Jesus said; and none of us dared ask him if he really was the Lord, for we were quite sure of it. 

Then Jesus went around serving us the bread and fish. 

This was the third time Jesus had appeared to us since his return from the dead.

The first-person switch is justified by identifying (as no scholar would) the author of John's gospel with John, "the disciple Jesus loved," the brother of James, son of Zebedee. For the final story of John, it provides an incredible intimacy. But weirdness, too. Why do the disciples listen to the stranger on the shore? Is it only the unexpected haul of fish that leads one of them - the one Jesus loved - to recognize him? But he doesn't swim to the shore as Simon Peter does, and doesn't address Jesus as Jesus, which, he tells us, none of the others dares to either. Jesus also apparently doesn't speak to them by name (at least until after the breakfast, when he addresses Simon Peter). The intimacy of breakfasting together around a fire at the break of day is wrapped in a kind of stunned formality, or a performance of formality, as if a meeting of strangers. (It's sort of the obverse of Emmaus.) I don't get what's going on - less chatty translations make it no clearer. NRSV: 

Now none of the disciples dared to ask him, “Who are you?” because they knew it was the Lord. (21:12)

But I find I like it. The enormity of resurrection fits better with awed anonymity (even if it's play-acted) than with overfamiliarity... and anchored in the sharing of a meal.