Fish in the Fire: The Beauty of the Resurrected Life

 It was early in the morning. The mist moved over the Sea of Galilee, and the disciples were back doing what they knew best- fishing. Jesus had been raised from the dead at this point. But it was uncertain what their next move should be. So they went fishing. While some interpret this action as a type of resignation from ministry, it seems more likely they were biding their time, doing something familiar rather than doing nothing at all.

They had fished all night, and they had caught nothing. But now a familiar voice called to them from the shore.

“Throw out your net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you’ll get some!” (John 21:6, NLT)

They obeyed, even though they were not completely aware of the stranger's identity on the shore. The net filled instantly. And suddenly, John knows.

“It is the Lord!” he said.

Peter didn’t wait. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t ask for confirmation. He leaped over the side.

“When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he put on his tunic (for he had stripped for work), jumped into the water, and headed to shore. The others stayed with the boat and pulled the loaded net to the shore, for they were only about a hundred yards from shore.” (John 21:7–8, NLT).

When they got to shore, they saw a fire burning. And get this, fish were cooking on the fire.

Jesus had prepared breakfast.

The next part grabbed my attention when I read it in the scripture. Jesus gave this unexpected invitation:

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

He Didn’t Just Feed Them—He Included Them

Why did Jesus invite the disciples to bring some of the fish they had just caught? Jesus already had fish. Had He needed more, He could have provided enough to feed them all, miraculously and without effort. But He asked them to contribute to the meal. The fire now held two kinds of fish: the ones Jesus had supernaturally provided and prepared, and the ones the disciples had caught at His direction.

That moment in the Scripture became more than just a picture of a meal. It struck me as a powerful metaphor.

The Resurrected Life: When Heaven and Earth Meet

This is what it looks like to live in the power of the Resurrection. It is a picture of the divine and the human lying side by side on the fire. The supernatural, resurrected Christ provided one part, and the other by an act of human obedience. 

The resurrected life is where heaven and earth meet. We believe Jesus is alive—He is our living Savior who has been raised from the dead. And when a believer receives Christ, the resurrected Jesus enters with power and authority over death and hell. Anything grave-like in our life has to go.

But he also invites us to bring our part. He invites us to small but significant acts of obedience. And when we bring those actions of obedience to Him, those meager actions are like thin fillets. Yet when the fish of grace and the fish of obedience are cooked over the same flame, everyday actions become infused with resurrection power and love, and they become effective.

Believers live where the miracle and the mundane belong to the same moment. When Jesus lives in us, our ordinary actions begin to carry His life into the lives of others. The way we speak, serve, forgive, and love—all of it matters more because He’s alive.

Where Faith Burned Bright in the Shadows

My mind drifted to a time centuries after that breakfast on the shore, when believers were still gathering and fellowshipping with the resurrected Jesus. Not on a beach this time, but underground.

The catacombs beneath Rome were hollowed-out tunnels used by the early Church to bury their dead. But these weren’t just graveyards. They were sacred places where persecuted Christians gathered to grieve, to worship, and to remember Jesus.

The Christians buried in the Roman catacombs died under intense persecution. Many of them were likely killed because of their Christian testimony. So when the believers buried their loved ones, they carved symbols into the walls of those underground tunnels. The symbols were simple but powerful images that told the story of their hope. One can find a drawing of an anchor for security. A dove for peace. A shepherd symbolizing guidance. Throughout the catacombs, there are pictures of fish.

I imagined a quiet figure standing in the flickering torchlight, scratching the curve of a fish into the stone wall. It was not a decoration. It was a declaration. The Greek word for fish, ICHTHYS, was used as an acronym; the letters stood for the words Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior. It symbolized the resurrection in a place of grief and death. They still believed. They still followed. They scratched a simple act of obedience in a stone wall and faced death in the power of that hope.

The Fire Still Burns

You see, those are the places where true resurrection hope is needed. The divine and the human fuse together and redeem grief and death. It’s quite the combo, like two kinds of fish in the fire on the shores of Galilee. Jesus invites us to fellowship there. 

Come and eat with me. Bring what you can do and lay it beside what I have done.

It’s a perfect metaphor for how we live our lives. I just wanted to encourage you to let the Master and the mundane meet again at the fire. That’s what living in the power of resurrection looks like.