But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore; but
the disciples knew not that it was Jesus.--_John 21, 4._
The last chapter of the Gospel of St. John takes us back to some
of the scenes and circumstances of Christ after His resurrection.
The immediate text portrays to us how seven men come slowly and
thoughtfully down to the narrow beach, enter a boat, and push out
a little way from the land. They are clad in the coarse garb of
Galilean fishermen. Their faces are bronzed by exposure to the wind
and the sun; their hands calloused from dragging the dripping net
and pulling the laboring oar. But they are men destined to hold the
highest mark among the great teachers of mankind. Foremost among
them is Simon Peter, fiery soul, as ready to smite with the sword
as to weep in sorrow at a look from his Lord. After him follows
John, the gentle and loving, who leaned on His Master's bosom at
the Passover. Then comes Thomas, the slow and distrustful, so
honest in his doubts and so yielding in his confession. Then James,
who was the first to seal his faith with the blood of martyrdom.
Lastly Nathanael is mentioned, the upright and guileless, whilst
the names of two are withheld. Says Simon Peter to this number:
"I go a-fishing." The rest join in, and soon the crew sets sail
for the higher waters, but with no success. The long hours pass in
fruitless toil; day creeps into evening, evening into night, night
into morning, and still they cast and cast, and catch nothing. At
earliest dawn a figure appears on the beach, and a voice is heard
speaking to them. The text tells who it was.
For some reason, as our text states, they do not distinguish Him.
Perhaps it is because they are not expecting Him, and it is still
morning twilight, and they cannot see distinctly, or, what is more
probable, because some change has come over His risen body like that
which on Resurrection Sunday had prevented Mary Magdalene and the
two disciples journeying to Emmaus from readily recognizing Him.
Taking Him, quite probably, to be a fish-dealer, one of those who
daily came out at dawn from the town to meet the boats and make
their purchase, they hear a voice coming to them from the dim shore,
saluting them,--to translate the question into our English idiomatic
equivalent, Boys, what luck? "None," answer the weary fishermen.
Again the voice sings out to them, "Cast." No sooner done than
their net was filled with fishes. And then at once, by a spiritual
instinct, rather than by the vision of his eyes, John knew who this
stranger was, and said to the rest, "It is the Lord." Whereupon,
"When Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher's
coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the
sea."
It is this beautiful incident that we shall regard in a few phases,
in accordance with this season and practical life.
In the first place, let us note that the resurrected Lord revealed
Himself, and still reveals Himself to us in the midst of our daily
work. The Lord came to these men while occupied with the toils
and duties of their trade. Many are the instances in which it has
pleased God to show His special favor to persons while earnestly
occupied with their ordinary callings. David was summoned from the
care of his father's flock to be Israel's king. Elisha was following
the plow when called to be Elijah's successor. It was to faithful
shepherds keeping watch over their flocks by night that the angel
choirs were sent to announce the birth of the Prince of Peace, and
here, while the disciples were busily engaged in their familiar
toils, it was that Jesus came and manifested Himself to them. Was
there not something very instructive in this appearance at such a
time? It showed that Jesus ratified their decision to be up and
doing. It showed that He was present with them in the midst of all
their work. It showed, too, that upon His presence depended entirely
the success of their labors, for before His arrival they had caught
nothing; their nets were only filled with seaweeds. It was through
His direction and through His direction alone, that their nets at
last were filled with fish. What a lesson this for all faithful
toilers, whether on sea or on shore, the lesson that Jesus is with
us in our daily tasks, whatever these tasks may be.
We know that Jesus Himself once stood in the ranks of the world's
toil. Many a day, for many a year, He wrought in the sweat of His
brow in the carpenter shop at Nazareth. He thus stamped with the
approval of His own example the work of every toiler, and showed the
high dignity that belongs to all honest labor. By this manifestation
of the risen Jesus to those fishermen of Galilee He sanctified and
glorified the work of His children. Like that dim figure on the
shore of the Sea of Tiberias, Jesus stands over against us, watching
us with eyes of sympathy, and waiting to bless us with His counsel
and help. He has not changed. He is the same yesterday, to-day, and
forever. Let us not forget this glorious truth as we bend over our
desks, or machines, stand behind sale counters, or move in household
duties; the thought: Jesus is looking on, will shed its hallowed
light upon the "common task," as it is styled, fill us with courage
and cheerfulness, though our own work be irksome and hard, and
enable us to do it faithfully, to quote the words of the apostle,
"not with eye-service as men-pleasers, but in singleness of heart,
as unto the Lord," who looketh on.
Again, we note, Jesus revealed Himself to His disciples on this
occasion, not only in the midst of their daily work, but in the
_hour of their failure and disappointment_. They had gone forth to
catch fish; but they had caught nothing. They were wet and cold,
weary and hungry. And it was to these tired and disappointed men
that the Lord appeared. He filled their nets with fish; He filled
their hearts with the joy of His presence, nor did He forget their
bodily comfort and needs, He kindled a fire upon the shore, and
provided for them a welcome meal of fish and bread. And Christ's
methods, my beloved, have not altered with the years. That scene on
Lake Gennesaret is an allegory with a deep meaning for ourselves. It
reminds us that our schemes and plans and endeavors, toil however
hard we may, not infrequently meet with disappointment. We have
perhaps all of us experienced what the poet says:
Oh! it is hard to work for God,
To rise and take His part;
Upon this battle-field of earth,
And not sometimes lose heart.
He hides Himself so wondrously
As though there were no God,
He is least seen when all the powers
Of ill are most abroad.
Or, He deserts us at the hour;
The light is all but lost,
And seems to leave us to ourselves
Just when we need Him most.
And yet, to speak with the text, though we may recognize Him not,
He is tenderly watching us from the shore. He has long since passed
over to His glory. But while His disciples are yet on these waters,
He keeps Himself near the margin, and looks down upon them in
their toil. His great heart is with us all in our disappointments,
difficulties, and disheartening endeavors, and in some way, at the
right time, He will come, just as yonder on the Sea of Galilee, to
help us. Let us believe that, and go ahead with our present duties,
steadily, bravely, hopefully. Hopefully, I repeat; there is all the
difference in the world between working with hope and without it.
The sailor on the raft sinks into despair as long as there is no
vessel in sight, but let a ship appear on the far horizon, and
immediately he is alert, and seeks by every means in his power to
attract the attention of those on board, if, haply, he may be saved.
In the same way, if we lose the hope of Christ's help, we shall give
up and break down. Let us hold on, no matter what we are required
to contend against in the battle of life, in the Lord's cause,
and rest assured that at length Christ will come to us with such
strength and supply as will abundantly compensate us for the toil
and worry. Let us believe that, or we shall fail in our undertakings.
Nor only, to follow our text, in the midst of work and
disappointment, but in the time of spiritual doubt and difficulty
does Jesus reveal Himself. In those days the hearts of the disciples
were burdened with many regrets and uncertainties and fears. In that
stern of that very boat perchance their Master had often reclined,
upon those same waters, and as they sat throughout those long and
weary hours with the sails idly flapping, or plying the long, heavy
oars, the waves splashing against the side of the boat, how these
various sights and sounds must have reminded them irresistibly of
One who used to be beside them constantly, and of the vanished
happiness when they had been His pupils and His friends. That life
of close companionship was ended now. Their beloved Master had been
taken from them by wicked hands and crucified and slain. And, though
since He had already appeared to them after His resurrection, and
assured them of His living presence and power, yet He had appeared
only to vanish away, and they did not know exactly how they were to
think of Jesus, or what He would have them do. They were in a state
of spiritual doubt and uncertainty, full of regrets for the vanished
past, and with no clear outlook for the years to come.
Jesus appears to them on this morning. They learn more fully who
He was, and also what He would have them do. Immediately following
this description is the interview He had with Peter, three times
directing him, "Feed my lambs, feed my sheep." He was teaching them
all the while a valuable lesson. Up to this time they had been in
visible companionship with the Lord; He was now educating them into
the thought that, though His visible form should be withdrawn,
His personal presence would be with them still. In short, He was
preparing them to believe the great truth, on which the very
existence of the Christian Church depends, and which He announced to
them in the words of His parting promise: "Lo, I am with you alway,
even unto the ends of the world."
It is quite similar with believers now. Our faith is often sorely
tried, we are "tossed about with many a conflict, many a doubt."
We need those things; the Lord is thereby educating us, teaching
us some lesson or lessons, so that our faith may become stronger,
purer, and better. "Doubt," one has said who lived long ago, "doubt
is the daughter of the devil." There is that kind of a doubt which
is the sign of an enlarging faith. Of that sort was Thomas. How
gloriously it was removed, and he the better for it! So with these
men here, and so with us. Not seldom do we find a soul must be
tossed all night upon a dark, tempestuous sea of doubt and misgiving
before Jesus comes with the morning light to speak His word of
peace, and to make all things plain.
This leads to the last thought, _viz._, that Jesus reveals Himself
to the eyes of those who love Him. We must not think that work, or
disappointment, or religious doubt, in themselves, insure the vision
of the Lord. On the contrary, it may be these things precisely that
veil Him from our sight. Sometimes a man's work so absorbs his heart
that he has no thoughts left for spiritual things. And sometimes
worldly disappointments only make a man hard, bitter, and cynical,
while spiritual doubt drives him into sheer unbelief and black
despair. A certain condition of heart is needful in order that these
things become blessings, the occasion of fresh revelations of the
Lord. This narrative suggests which it is. It was John who saw Jesus
first in the figure that stood on the shore, and John, as we know,
was the disciple who loved Jesus most and best, and there was a real
connection between these two facts. It was the love of John's heart,
rather than the sharpness of his eyes, that enabled him to say, "It
is the Lord"; for love detects the loved one afar off, and where
others see only the indistinguishable figure of a man, it cries:
"Nay, it is he himself." And love, my beloved, is still and always
a great condition of spiritual knowledge. "He that loveth me," said
Jesus, "shall be loved of my Father, and I will love Him and will
manifest Myself to him." Often, like those fishermen of Galilee, we
have to face life's duties and burdens with a dull and heavy heart;
if there is love to Christ, He will appear to our faith, if not
to our sight, filling our hearts with the joy of His presence and
compelling us to say in wonder and delight: "It is the Lord."
God grant that we may know Him in this life, so that when the
morning of eternity dawns upon us, we may see Christ standing on the
shore of heaven and hear His words of welcome. Amen.