might prepare them to receive His fuller inflow, the Lord breathed on
them and said, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost: Whose soever sins ye remit,
they are remitted unto them; whose soever sins ye retain, they are
retained." By which He surely meant that there was no other way by
which sins would be forgiven and put away than by the preaching of the
Gospel, which He now committed to their trust. They are therefore
parallel with Peter's statement in after days, "Neither is there
salvation in any other, for there is none other name given under
heaven, among men, by which we must be saved." The Church of God alone
can proclaim to men the conditions of evangelical repentance,--and
those who refuse her testimony, and disbelieve her Gospel, expose
themselves to unspeakable condemnation and loss. "There remaineth no
other sacrifice for sin; but a certain looking for of judgment, and
fiery indignation." Refuse Christ, and there is no alternative way of
salvation. Whatever else is contained in these words, it is quite
clear that there was nothing exclusively reserved to the apostles and
their successors, which is not equally the possession of all who
believe; for we know that the Lord's words were spoken not to the
apostles only, but to the two that had come from Emmaus with burning
hearts, and to those who were in the habit of commingling with the
immediate followers of Christ. "Them that were with them" (Luke xxiv.
33, 35, 36). All had been witnesses of these things, and all were now
to proclaim in His name repentance and remission of sins among all
nations, beginning at Jerusalem.
Thomas was not there on that memorable occasion. He was always
accustomed to look on the dark side of things. When Jesus proposed to
go into Judaea to raise Lazarus, he made sure that there was no
alternative but to die with Him; and when the Master spoke of His
impending absence, he said gloomily, "Lord, we know not whither Thou
goest, and how can we know the way?" He was doubtless at this time
wandering alone over the scenes of that awful tragedy, which had so
deeply imprinted itself on his imagination that he could not forget the
print of the nails, and the wound in His side, and the unlikelihood of
any surviving such treatment as He had received.
When he heard the story of the others, he seemed inclined to treat them
as too credulous; and with the air of superior caution said, that he
must not only see the wounds which death had made, but touch them with
his fingers and hand. Yet we may be grateful for this story. First,
because it wears the aspect of truth. What weaver of an imaginary
history would ever have dared to suggest that the resurrection was
impugned by some of Christ's close followers? And, next, because it
shows us that the resurrection was subjected to the severest tests,
just those which we would ourselves apply.
Thomas was left for a whole week. Day after day he heard the repeated
story of Christ's appearances; and waited for Him to come again; and
became more and more confirmed in his sad presentment that the whole
story was a myth. How great must have been his anguish during those
days, as he tossed between hope and fear, saw on other faces the light
which he might not share, and thought that the Master, if really
living, was neglectful of His friend!
At last Jesus came, not to anathematize or exclude him, not to break
the bruised reed or quench the smoking flax, but to restore him, and to
lift on him the light of His countenance.
He suited himself to his needs. He stooped to comply with the
conditions that his poor faith had laid down. He was willing to give
proofs, over and above those which were absolutely necessary, to win
faith. So eager was He to win one poor soul to Himself and
blessedness, that He said unto Thomas, "Reach hither thy finger, and
behold My hands; and reach hither thy hand, and thrust it into My side;
and be not faithless but believing."
I do not suppose that Thomas availed himself of the invitation. It was
sufficient to see. Such an act of cold scrutiny would hardly have been
compatible with his joyous shout, "My Lord and my God." Christ's voice
and form, omniscience and humility, in taking such trouble to win one
to Himself--these were sufficient to convince him, and dispel all doubt.
Ah, Thomas, in that glad outburst of thine, thou reachedst a higher
level than all the rest; and thou art not the last man, who has seemed
a hopeless and helpless wreck, unable to exercise the faith that seemed
so natural to others; but who, after a time, under the teaching of
Jesus, has been enabled to assume a position to which none of his
associates could aspire!
Because he saw, he believed. Too many wait for signs and
manifestations, for sensible emotion and conviction: but there is a
more excellent way--when we do not see, and yet believe. When there is
no star on the bosom of night, no chart on the unknown sea, no lover or
friend or interpreter of the ways of God; and when, in spite of all,
the soul knows Him whom it has believed, and clings to Him though
unseen, and reckons that neither life, nor death, nor principalities,
nor powers, can shut out the love of God in Christ. "Blessed are they
who have not seen, and yet have believed."
XXXIV
The Lake of Galilee
"Jesus showed Himself again to the disciples at the Sea of
Tiberias."--JOHN xxi. 1.
"All ye shall be offended because of Me this night; for it is written,
I will smite the Shepherd, and the sheep shall be scattered. But after
that I am risen, I will go before you into _Galilee_." So had the
Chief Shepherd spoken to His sad and anxious followers on the night of
His betrayal. They little understood His meaning, and would perhaps
have even forgotten the appointment of the rendezvous, unless it had
been recalled again and yet again to their minds. But they were not
allowed to forget. On the resurrection morn, the angel said to the
first visitants at the empty grave: "Go your way, tell His disciples,
and Peter, that He goeth before you into _Galilee_; there shall ye see
Him as He said unto you." And as they went to execute this bidding,
Jesus Himself met them and said: "Be not afraid; go tell My brethren,
that they go into _Galilee_; there shall they see Me." The customs of
the Passover Feast forbade their instant compliance with this command,
and the Master sanctioned their delay by appearing to them twice whilst
they yet lingered in the metropolis. But as soon as it was possible
they hastened back to the familiar scenes of their early life and of
the Master's ministry.
We cannot fathom all the reasons that led our Lord to make such special
arrangements for meeting with them in Galilee; but it was natural that
He should wish to associate His risen life with scenes in which He had
spent so large a part of His earthly ministry; and there the greatest
proportion of His followers was gathered, and He would have the
quietest and securest opportunity of meeting with the five hundred
brethren at once. The disciples little thought that this was a
farewell visit to their homes, and that within a few weeks they must
return to Jerusalem, to stay there for a time, and then to wander forth
to all lands, from the ancient Indus on the east to the far-famed
shores of Tarshish on the west.
I. It was in the early part of May when they returned to Galilee. They
were in evident bewilderment as to their next step. What should they
do? Should they continue to lead the artificial life which they had
taken up during the Master's ministry? That seemed impossible and
needless. Should they do nothing but wait? That appeared unwise when
life was yet strong in them, and their means of livelihood were scant.
It was of course possible to go back to fishing-smacks and
fishing-tackle; but should they? And they hesitated.
But one evening came; the fragrance of thyme and rosemary and of a
hundred flowers filled the air; the lake lay dimpled in the light of
the setting sun; the purple hills that stood sentinel around seemed by
their very peacefulness to promise that no storm should imperil the
lives of those that ventured on the blue depths. There stood the
boats, yonder lay the nets, in those waters were the finny tribes; the
old instinct of the fisherman arose in their hearts, and found
expression on the lips of the one from whom we should have expected it.
"_Peter_ said unto them, I go a-fishing." I see no harm in it. The
Master never forbade it. He cannot mean us to loiter our time away.
We cannot be preachers without Him. I shall go back to the life from
which He called me three years ago, and if it pleases Him to come
again, He can find us now, as He found us once, among the
fishing-tackle.
The proposal met with an instant assent: "We also go with thee." And
in a few moments Peter with six others had leaped into a boat, and they
were preparing for the night's work with all the enthusiasm with which
men throw themselves into a craft which for some time they have
disused. But their ardor was soon checked. Hour after hour passed.
The lights went out in the hamlets and towns. The chill night damps
enwrapped them. The grey morning at last began to break, whilst again
and again the nets were hauled up and let down, but in vain; not a
single fish had entered them. "That night they caught nothing." Why
this non-success? The night was the most favorable time! These men
knew the lake well, and were experienced in their craft. They did
their best, but they caught nothing! Why was this? Was it a chance?
No, it was a providence; it was carefully arranged, disappointing and
vexing though it was, by One who was too wise to err, too good to be
unkind, and who was preparing to teach them a lesson which should
enrich them and the whole Church forever.
The failure put an arrest on their temporal pursuits. Had they been
successful that night, it would have been very much harder for them to
renounce the craft forever; but their non-success made them more
willing to give it up, and to turn their thoughts to the evangelization
of the world. Then, too, our Lord surely meant to teach them that
whilst they were doing His work, whether that work was waiting or
active service, it was not necessary for them to be anxious about their
maintenance; He Himself would see to that, though He had, for each
meal, to light a fire and prepare it Himself. And, deeper than all
this, there were surely great spiritual lessons to be gained respecting
the conditions of success in catching men in the net of His Gospel.
It is difficult to understand how a man can call himself a Christian,
and how he can face the awful possibilities of life, except he believes
that all is ruled by One who loves us with a love that is infinite, and
who wields all power on earth and in heaven. If, however, that be your
fixed belief, you may find it often severely tested. "I have waited
this livelong night; can this be Christ's will?" "I have done my best
in vain; can this be Christ's will?" "I have labored without a single
gleam of success; can this be Christ's will?" Yes, most certainly it
is. It is His love which is arranging all, in order to teach you some
of the sweetest, deepest lessons that ever entered your heart. There
is not a cross, a loss, a disappointment, a case of failure in your
life, which is not arranged and controlled by the loving Saviour, and
intended to teach some lesson which else could never be acquired.
Fitfully, curiously, without apparent art or fixed design, is the web
of our lives woven; thread seems thrown with thread at random, no
orderly pattern immediately appears, but yet of all that web there is
not a single thread whose place and color are not arranged with
consummate skill and love.
But what good can failure do? It may shut up a path which you were
pursuing too eagerly. It may put you out of heart with things seen and
temporal, and give you an appetite for things unseen and eternal. It
may teach you your own helplessness, and turn you to trust more
implicitly in the provision of Christ. It is clear that Christians
have often to toil all night in vain, that Christ may have a background
black and sombre enough to set forth all the glories of His
interposition.
II. In the morning Jesus stood on the shore, but the disciples knew not
that it was Jesus. It was customary for fish-dealers to go down to
greet fishers on their return from the night's toil, in order to buy up
fish. Such a one now seemed waiting on the sand in the grey light, and
His question was such as a fish-dealer might put: "Children, have you
any food?" It therefore never occurred to the disciples to think that
it was Jesus. And indeed, after the miracle was wrought, it was only
the keen eye of love that knew Him to be the Lord. How often is the
Lord near us, and we know Him not! He is standing there in the midst
of scenes of natural beauty though His foot leaves no impression on the
untrodden sand, and His form casts no shadow on the flowers or
greensward. He is standing there in that dingy counting-house, or amid
the whirr of the deafening machinery, though He fills no space, and
utters no word audible to human ears. He is standing there in that
home, watching the sick, noting unkindness and rudeness, smiling on the
little deeds done for His sake, though none ever heard the floors creak
beneath His weight, or saw the doors open to admit His person. How
much we miss because we fail to discern Him!
By acting thus He not only taught His disciples the reality of His
presence, but He prepared them also for that new kind of life which
they were henceforth to lead--a life of faith rather than of sense; a
life of spiritual communion rather than of physical fellowship. He
kept showing them that, though out of sight, He was still in their
midst. By easy stepping-stones He joined Calvary and Olivet. By
gentle progressive lessons those who had believed because they had seen
were taught to walk by faith, not by sight, and to love One whom they
did not see. And thus it came about that they trod no shore however
desolate, went to no land however distant, dealt with no people however
boorish, without carrying ever with them the thought, The Master is
here!
But let me say here that if you would see Christ everywhere, you must
be like John, the disciple of love. Love will trace Him everywhere, as
dear friends detect each other by little touches that are meaningless
to others. Love's quick eye penetrates disguises impenetrable to
colder scrutiny. Not for the wise, nor for the few, but for the least
that love, is the vision possible that can make a desert isle like
Patmos gleam with the light of Paradise itself.
III. How great a difference Christ's directions made! Before He spoke
they were disconsolately dragging an empty net to shore. The moment
after He had spoken, and they had done His bidding, that net was filled
with a shoal of fish so heavy that it was no easy matter to drag it
behind the ship.
Great lessons await us here! We, like these, have embarked in a great
fishing enterprise--we are fishers of men! Our aim is to catch men
alive for Christ our Lord. For this we are ready to toil, to pray, to
wait. But our success depends wholly upon our Lord. He will not give
it us until we can bear it, and have learned the lesson of the night of
fruitless toil. And if we are to succeed it must be in His realized
companionship, and in obedience to His word.
There is a right side of the ship, and a wrong one; there is a time to
plant, and a time to be still; to everything there is a season, and a
time to every purpose under heaven. We do not know these. If we are
left to ourselves, we may cast the net on the left side of the ship at
the time when we should be casting it on the right, and on the right
side of the ship when we should be casting it on the left. Christ
alone knows, and He will teach us exactly how and when to act with the
very best results.
IV. Christ's provision for the needs of His servants. I should imagine
that the disciples were somewhat anxious about their bodily needs and
their supply. They did not realize that if they were doing Christ's
work, Christ would look after their real needs. Christ let them meet
with non-success to show how fruitless their toil was. And in the
morning, when He stood on the shore, He filled their nets with fish,
and called them to fire and bread and fish, to show how easily He could
supply all their need. Of course this does not apply to all
promiscuously, but it does apply to those who give up time, and labor,
and earthly toil, for the cause of Christ. If they are really called
to the work, Christ seems to say to them: "Do the best you can for Me,
and do not try in addition to make up for your time and labor by night
work--you had better use the night for necessary rest; the longest
night spent in unbelieving labor will not profit; but I in a single
moment in the morning can more than make up to you for all you have
spent." Christ never lets us be in His debt. If we lend Him a boat
for pulpit, He weighs it down to the gunwale. If we give Him time, He
makes up what we have lost. If we seek first the kingdom of God and
His righteousness, He sees that all things else are added. It is vain
for you to rise up early and to sit up late, to eat the bread of
carefulness. He giveth His beloved when they sleep.
What delicate attentions to these men! Christ knew that they were
drenched with spray, chilled with the keen air, and so He prepared a
fire--so thoughtful is He of the tiniest matters that will alleviate
discomfort and increase our pleasure. At the same time He is frugal of
the miraculous. He will deal lavishly in miracles so long as needed,
but not an inch beyond. He might have created fish enough on that fire
to supply them all, but that was needless so long as a hundred fifty
and three great fishes lay within easy reach; so Jesus said, "Bring of
the fish which ye have now caught."
When Peter heard John say, "It is the Lord," true to his character he
sprang into the sea and swam to shore, leaving the rest to drag the
heavy net as best they could. Now he seems to remember his failure to
bear his share in the toil; so he goes to the margin of the lake, lands
the net, counts its contents, and examines the meshes, to find them
unbroken, and then returns with fish enough to make a breakfast for
them all. It was only when all this was done that Jesus said to them,
"Come and dine." Then He came forward and took the bread and fish, and
gave to them. All were convinced that it was Jesus, but they were dumb
with amazement and awe; they would have liked to ask questions, but
they felt that they need not; their senses were convinced almost in
spite of themselves. "None of the disciples durst ask Him, Who art
Thou? knowing that it was the Lord."
This, says John, was the third time that Jesus had showed Himself; not
literally the third time that He had shown Himself to any one; but the
third time that He had shown Himself to the disciples assembled in any
considerable number. The first time was in the evening of the
resurrection day; the second, when Thomas was there; the third, in the
incident here recorded.
We all need our rest times, our times of learning, our times of
fellowship with Jesus. Happy are we when Jesus says, "Come and dine,"
and leads us off to sup with Him in desert places! It may be in the
loneliness of nature, or of the sick-bed, or of thwarted love; but,
wherever it is, it is well if only He is there to feed us with His own
dear hand.
The time will come when the night of this sunless world shall be over,
and the morning of eternity shall break upon us; it may be that in the
hour of death we shall find that our work has not been so fruitless as
we feared: on the quiet beach we shall see Jesus standing and know that
it is He. Then one last plunge through the chill flood, and we shall
partake of the preparations which His love has made, and He will say,
"Come and dine."
XXXV
Peter's Love and Work
"Thou knowest that I love Thee. . . . Feed my lambs."--JOHN xxi. 15.
That miraculous catch of fish on which we have dwelt was a parable to
the disciples of the kind of work in which they were thenceforward to
be engaged. They were to catch men. But there was one amongst them
who must have wondered much how he would fare, and what part he would
take when that work was recommenced. Might he have a share in it? He
would seem to have forfeited all right. With oaths and curses he had
thrice denied that he belonged to Jesus. He had given grievous
occasion to the enemy to blaspheme. He had failed in a most important
part of an apostle's character.
True, he had repented with bitter tears, and had received a message
from the empty tomb; on that Easter morn he had heard his forgiveness
spoken by the lips of his Lord, and he would not have exchanged that
forgiveness for an imperial crown; but he was not quite at ease. His
uneasiness betrayed itself in his plunge into the water to swim to
Christ's feet, and in his rush to drag the net to the shore. He wished
to be restored to the position in the Apostolate which his sin had
forfeited; not because of the honor which it would bring, but because
nothing less would assure him of the undiminished confidence and the
entire affection of Jesus.
The Lord read his heart; and when the morning meal was done, He singled
him out from the rest of His disciples, and asked him three times if he
loved Him, and then thrice gave him the injunction to feed His flock.
In addressing him our Lord calls him by his old name, Simon Bar Jonas,
not by his new name, Peter; as if to remind him that he had been living
the life of nature rather than of grace.
In considering this subject, it will be convenient to speak of the
question, the answer; the command.
I. OUR LORD'S SEARCHING QUESTION--"Lovest thou Me?"
_It is a very remarkable question._--We should have expected the
inquiry, Dost thou believe Me? Wilt thou obey Me? Art thou prepared
to carry out My plans? But lo! the risen Lord seems not anxious about
aught of these, and only asks for love, and this from the rugged,
manly, headstrong Peter. Yet as we hear the question asked, we realize
it is the true one. He who has asked it has struck the right method of
dealing with men; and if He only get the love, He will get easily
enough the faith and the obedience as well.
In this startling question you have unbared to you the distinctive
feature which makes Christianity what it is, and which makes it
different from all other religions which have flung their clouds or
their rainbows over human spirits. It is the religion of love: and a
man may speak with a seraph's burning tongue to defend Christianity; he
may give his goods to feed the poor in obedience to the precepts of
Christianity; he may even burn at the stake rather than renounce
Christianity as his intellectual creed; but if he does not love, he is
no Christian. If a man love not the Lord Jesus, he is anathema.
But if only there be love--love to God, love to man--then though there
may be many deficiencies in head and heart, there is the one prime
evidence of Christianship. It was on such grounds that the Rev. Adam
Gibb of Edinburgh once acted. He had once or twice dissuaded a young
woman from joining the church, deeming her ill-informed, and unable to
answer elementary questions; and on his third refusal she answered,
"Weel, weel, sir, I may na', an' I dinna, ken sae muckle as mony; but
when ye preach a sermon aboot my Lord and Saviour, I fin' my heart
going out to Him, like lintseed out of a bag." Any one who has
observed the process will know how lifelike the illustration was, and
will not wonder that Mr. Gibb admitted her, and that she lived to be
one of the fairest members of his church.
_It is a universal question._--Its universality suggests that in Christ
there is something universally lovable, and that every one has the
power of loving Him, if only the rubbish is removed which chokes the
springs of affection. There are different shades in love--the love of
gratitude, where the rescued spirit sings the praise of Him who took it
from the terrible pit and miry clay; the love of complacency, with
which the holy soul admires Him who is fairer than the sons of men, and
dwells with rapture on His majestic beauty and endearing goodness; the
love of friendship, in which by constant intercourse a deep attachment
arises between the confiding soul and the all-sufficient Saviour. And
there are as many methods of manifestation of love as there are
different temperaments. With some, it is silent; with others, it
speaks. With some, it sits listening at Christ's feet; with others, it
hurries too and fro to serve. With some, it is exuberant and
enthusiastic; with others, it is still and deep. But whatever be the
shade or the evidence, in each Christian heart there must be love to
Christ, and the heart must be willing to give up its throne to the
reign of Jesus as its Lord.