May 4th, 2025: Third Easter Sunday Homily

Last Sunday, we reflected on the story of Thomas and were perhaps tempted to call him “Doubting Thomas.” But the truth is, none of the disciples believed right away. All of them struggled to recognize the Risen Lord at different points. Faith didn’t come easily — not even to those who walked, talked, and ate with Jesus for three years. This isn’t just Thomas’s story; it’s the story of every disciple, including us.

Today’s Gospel opens with an unexpected scene. Peter, the leader of the apostles, says, “I am going fishing.” And six others follow him. Now this isn’t just a leisure activity — this is a return to their old life, the life they had before they met Jesus. It’s almost as if the Resurrection never happened. They return to the boats, to the nets, to the Sea of Tiberias. Why? Because they were confused, disoriented, and maybe even ashamed. They were called to be fishers of men, but now they’re just… fishing.

This moment is powerful. It’s a picture of spiritual discouragement. They had seen the empty tomb. They had heard the reports. And still… they didn’t know what to do. So, they went back to what they knew.

And what happens? They catch nothing. The old life doesn’t work anymore. They toil all night — in darkness — and their nets come up empty. It’s a reminder to all of us: when we walk away from our call, when we forget the Risen Christ, our efforts may look busy, but they often bear no fruit.

But here is the Good News: Jesus doesn’t abandon them. Just as Yahweh always sought out the Israelites when they strayed, Jesus comes searching for his disciples. Not with anger or blame, but with love and care. “Children, have you caught anything to eat?” he calls out. And then he guides them. He fills their nets. He prepares breakfast for them. He feeds their bodies, but more importantly, he nourishes their weary souls.

What tenderness we see here! The Risen Christ cooking breakfast for his disciples. He doesn’t remind Peter of his denial. He doesn’t scold them for abandoning their mission. Instead, he invites them: Come and eat. At times, peter was far from fulfilling his potential as a person and as a leader. Peter resembles us on our own faith journeys, doesn’t he? 

And then he turns to Peter. The one who denied him three times. The one who seems to have led the others back to fishing. And Jesus doesn’t shame him. Instead, he restores him. Three times, he asks: “Do you love me?” And with each answer, Jesus gives him a new mission: Feed my lambs. Tend my sheep. Feed my sheep. The one who failed so publicly is now entrusted with the care of the Church. Peter becomes the first Pope — not because he was perfect, but because he was forgiven.

This is our God. A God who doesn’t call the qualified, but who qualifies those He calls. A God who defeats our unfaithfulness with His never-failing faithfulness. A God who meets us at the shores of our own Tiberias — those places where we have failed, where we have turned back, where we feel unworthy — and He waits for us, with breakfast prepared and arms open.

We all have our own Sea of Tiberias. Brothers and sisters, our “Tiberias” is wherever we’ve walked away from God. We all have moments when we drift away, when we question, when we go back to old habits, old patterns, old sins. But the Lord is always there, waiting with breakfast. And when we recognize Him — when we truly encounter His mercy — we are changed.

That is why the disciples, once they truly experienced the Risen Lord, became bold witnesses. As we heard in the first reading, they rejoiced to suffer dishonor for the sake of Jesus. They became joyful witnesses. And that is what we are called to be today.

Pope Francis calls us to be missionary disciples — disciples who learn at the feet of the Master, and then go out to share what they have received. “Missionary disciples aren’t perfect—they’re forgiven.” Missionaries who preach not so much with words, but with lives transformed by mercy, who preach what they believe and believe what they preach.

So, let us ask ourselves today: What is my Sea of Tiberias? Where have I gone back to my “old nets”? Where have I felt like giving up or walking away? The Lord stands there, not with condemnation, but with compassion.

Let Him feed you. Let Him restore you. Let Him call you again. Listen for God’s own blessing in your life. Allow the Holy Spirit to enter your soul and breathe into it the healing words of Jesus. He has a plan and a purpose in mind for you. Embrace your destiny.

And when He does — as He did with Peter — go and feed His sheep.  Amen.