The reiteration in the interrogation did not express doubt as to the
veracity of the answer, nor dissatisfaction with its terms; but it did
express, and was meant, I suppose, to suggest to Peter and to the
others, that the threefold denial needed to be obliterated by the
threefold confession; and that every black mark that had been scored
deep on the page by that denial needed to be covered over with the
gilding or bright colouring of the triple acknowledgment. And so Peter
thrice having said, 'I know Him not!' Jesus with a gracious violence
forced him to say thrice, 'Thou knowest that I love Thee.' The same
intention to compel Peter to go back upon his past comes out in two
things besides the triple form of the question. The one is the
designation by which he is addressed, 'Simon, son of Jonas,' which
travels back, as it were, to the time before he was a disciple, and
points a finger to his weak humanity before it had come under the
influence of Jesus Christ. 'Simon, son of Jonas,' was the name that he
bore in the days before his discipleship. It was the name by which
Jesus had addressed him, therefore, on that never-to-be-forgotten
turning-point of his life, when he was first brought to Him by his
brother Andrew. It was the name by which Jesus had addressed him at the
very climax of his past life when, high up, he had been able to see
far, and in answer to the Lord's question, had rung out the confession:
'Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God!' So the name by which
Jesus addresses him now says to him in effect: 'Remember thy human
weakness; remember how thou wert drawn to Me; remember the high-water
mark of thy discipleship, when I was plain before thee as the Son of
God, and remembering all these, answer Me--lovest thou Me?'
The same intention to drive Peter back to the wholesome remembrance of
a stained past is obvious in the first form of the question. Our Lord
mercifully does not persist in giving to it that form in the second and
third instances: 'Lovest thou Me more than these?' More than these,
what? I cannot for a moment believe that that question means something
so trivial and irrelevant as 'Lovest thou Me more than these nets, and
boats, and the fishing?' No; in accordance with the purpose that runs
through the whole, of compelling Peter to retrospect, it says to him,
'Do you remember what you said a dozen hours before you denied Me,
"Though all should forsake Thee, yet will not I"? Are you going to take
that stand again? Lovest thou Me more than these that never discredited
their boasting so shamefully?'
So, dear brethren! here we have Jesus Christ, in His treatment of this
penitent and half-restored soul, forcing a man, with merciful
compulsion, to look steadfastly and long at his past sin, and to
retrace step by step, shameful stage by shameful stage, the road by
which he had departed so far. Every foul place he is to stop and look
at, and think about. Each detail he has to bring up before his mind.
Was it not cruel of Jesus thus to take Peter by the neck, as it were,
and hold him right down, close to the foul things that he had done, and
say to him, 'Look! look! look ever! and answer, Lovest thou Me?' No; it
was not cruel; it was true kindness. Peter had never been so abundantly
and permanently penetrated by the sense of the sinfulness of his sin,
as after he was sure, as he had been made sure in that great interview,
that it was all forgiven. So long as a man is disturbed by the dread of
consequences, so long as he is doubtful as to his relation to the
forgiving Love, he is not in a position beneficially and sanely to
consider his evil in its moral quality only. But when the conviction
comes to a man, 'God is pacified towards thee for all that thou hast
done'; and when he can look at his own evil without the smallest
disturbance rising from slavish fear of issues, then lie is in a
position rightly to estimate its darkness and its depth. And there can
be no better discipline for us all than to remember our faults, and
penitently to travel back over the road of our sins, just because we
are sure that God in Christ has forgotten them. The beginning of
Christ's merciful treatment of the forgiven man is to compel him to
remember, that he may learn and be ashamed.
And then there is another point here, in this triple question. How
significant and beautiful it is that the only thing that Jesus Christ
cares to ask about is the sinner's love! We might have expected:
'Simon, son of Jonas, are you sorry for what you did? Simon, son of
Jonas, will you promise never to do the like any more?' No! These
things will come if the other thing is there. 'Lovest thou Me?' Jesus
Christ sues each of us, not for obedience primarily, not for
repentance, not for vows, not for conduct, but for a heart; and that
being given, all the rest will follow. That is the distinguishing
characteristic of Christian morality, that Jesus seeks first for the
surrender of the affections, and believes, and is warranted in the
belief, that if these are surrendered, all else will follow; and love
being given, loyalty and service and repentance and hatred of self-will
and of self-seeking will follow in her train. All the graces of human
character which Christ seeks, and is ready to impart, are, as it were,
but the pages and ministers of the regal Love, who follow behind and
swell the _cortege_ of her servants.
Christ asks for love. Surely that indicates the depth of His own! In
this commerce He is satisfied with nothing less, and can ask for
nothing more; and He seeks for love because He is love, and has given
love. Oh! to all hearts burdened, as all our hearts ought to be--unless
the burden has been cast off in one way--by the consciousness of our
own weakness and imperfection, surely, surely, it is a gospel that is
contained in that one question addressed to a man who had gone far
astray, 'Simon, son of Jonas, lovest thou?'
Here, again, we have Jesus Christ, in His dealing with the penitent,
willing to trust discredited professions. We think that one of the
signs of our being wise people is that experience shall have taught us
'once' being 'bit, twice' to be 'shy,' and if a man has once deceived
us by flaming professions and ice-cold acts, never to trust him any
more. And we think that is 'worldly wisdom,' and 'the bitter fruit of
earthly experience,' and 'sharpness,' and 'shrewdness,' and so forth.
Jesus Christ, even whilst reminding Peter, by that 'more than these,'
of his utterly hollow and unreliable boasting, shows Himself ready to
accept once again the words of one whose unveracity He had proved.
'Charity hopeth all things, believeth all things,' and Jesus Christ is
ready to trust us when we say, 'I love Thee,' even though often in the
past our professed love has been all disproved.
We have here, in this question, our Lord revealing Himself as willing
to accept the imperfect love which a disciple can offer Him. Of course,
many of you well know that there is a very remarkable play of
expression here. In the two first questions the word which our Lord
employs for 'love' is not the same as that which appears in Peter's two
first answers. Christ asks for one kind of love; Peter proffers
another. I do not enter upon discussion as to the distinction between
these two apparent synonyms. The kind of love which Christ asks for is
higher, nobler, less emotional, and more associated with the whole mind
and will. It is the inferior kind, the more warm, more sensuous, more
passionate and emotional, which Peter brings. And then, in the third
question, our Lord, as it were, surrenders and takes Peter's own word,
as if He had said, 'Be it so! You shrink from professing the higher
kind; I will take the lower; and I will educate and bring that up to
the height that I desire you to stand at.' Ah, brother! however stained
and imperfect, however disproved by denials, however tainted by earthly
associations, Jesus Christ will accept the poor stream of love, though
it be but a trickle when it ought to be a torrent, which we can bring
Him.
These are the lessons which it seems to me lie in this triple question.
I have dealt with them at the greater length, because those which
follow are largely dependent upon them. But let me turn now briefly, in
the second place, to--