CHRIST'S INTEREST IN OUR COMMON LIFE.
"So still, dear Lord, in every place
Thou standest by the toiling folk
With love and pity in thy face,
And givest of thy help and grace
To those who meekly bear the yoke."
One of our Lord's after-resurrection appearances vividly pictures his
loving interest in our common toil. While waiting for him to come to
Galilee, the disciples had gone back for a time to their old work of
fishing. They were poor men, and this was probably necessary in order
to provide for their own subsistence. Thus fishing was the duty that
lay nearest. Yet it must have been dreary work for them after the
exalted privileges they had enjoyed so long. Think what the last three
years had been to these men. Jesus had taken them into the most
intimate fellowship with himself--into closest confidential friendship.
They had listened to his wonderful words, seen his gracious acts, and
witnessed his sweet life. Think what a privilege it was to live thus
with Jesus those beautiful years; what glimpses of heaven they had;
what visions of radiant life shone before them.
But now this precious experience was ended. The lovely dream had
vanished. They were back again at their old work. How dreary it must
have been--this tiresome handling of oars and boats and fishing-nets,
after their years of exalted life with their Master! But it is a
precious thought to us that just at this time, when they were in the
midst of the dull and wearisome work, and when they were sadly
discouraged, Christ appeared to them. It showed his interest in their
work, his sympathy with them in their discouragement, and his readiness
to help them.
Then the revealings of his appearance that morning are for all his
friends and for all time. We know now that our risen Saviour is
interested in whatever we have to do, and is ready to help us in all
our dull, common life. He will come to his people, not in the church
service, the prayer-meeting, the Holy Supper only, but is quite as apt
to reveal himself to them in the task-work of the plainest, dullest
day. Susan Coolidge writes:--
"That thy full glory may abound, increase,
And so thy likeness shall be formed in me,
I pray; the answer is not rest or peace,
But changes, duties, wants, anxieties,
Till there seems room for everything but thee,
And never time for anything but these.
"And I should fear, but lo! amid the press,
The whirl and hum and pressure of my day,
I hear thy garments sweep, thy seamless dress,
And close beside my work and weariness
Discern thy gracious form, not far away,
But very near, O Lord, to help and bless.
"The busy fingers fly; the eyes may see
Only the glancing needle which they hold;
But all my life is blossoming inwardly,
And every breath is like a litany;
While through each labor, like a thread of gold,
Is woven the sweet consciousness of thee."
There are duties in every life that are irksome. Young people
sometimes find school work dull. There are faithful mothers who many a
day grow weary of the endless duties of the household. There are good
men who tire ofttimes of the routine of office, or store, or mill, or
farm. There comes to most of us, at times, the feeling that what we
have to do day after day is not worthy of us. We have had glimpses, or
brief experiences, of life in its higher revealings. It may have been
a companionship for a season with one above us in experience or
attainment, that has lifted us up for a little time into exalted
thoughts and feelings, after which it is hard to come back again to the
old plodding round, and to the old, uninteresting companionships. It
may have been a visit to some place or to some home, with
opportunities, refinements, inspirations, privileges, above those which
we can have in our own narrower surroundings and plainer home and less
congenial intimacies.
Or our circumstances may have been rudely changed by some providence
that has broken in upon our happy life. It may have been a death that
cut off the income, or a reverse in business that swept away a fortune,
and luxury and ease and the material refinements and elegances of
wealth have to be exchanged for toil and plain circumstances and a
humbler home. There are few sorer tests of character than such changes
as these bring with them. The first thought always is: "How can I go
to this dreary life, these hard tasks, this painful drudgery, this
weary plodding, after having enjoyed so long the comforts and
refinements of my old happy state?"
In such cases immeasurable comfort may be found in this appearance of
the risen Christ that morning on the shore. The disciples took up
their dull old work because it was necessary, and was their plain duty
for the time; and there was Jesus waiting to greet them and bless them.
Accept your hard tasks, and do them cheerfully, no matter how irksome
they appear, and Christ will reveal himself to you in them. Be sure
that he will never come to you when you are avoiding any tasks, when
you are withholding your hand from any duty, or when you are fretting
and discontented over any circumstances or conditions of your lot.
There are no visions of the Christ for idle dreamers or for unhappy
shirkers.
Suppose you have come back, like the disciples, from times of privilege
and exaltation, and find yourself face to face once more with an old
life which seems now unworthy of you; yet for the time your duty is
clear, and if you would have a vision of Christ, you must take up the
duty with gladness. Suppose that your home-life is narrow, humdrum,
unpoetic, uncongenial, even cold and unkindly; yet there for the time
is your place, and there are your duties. And right in this sphere,
narrow though it seem, there is room for holiest visions of Christ and
for the richest revealings of his grace and blessing.
It will be remembered that Jesus himself, after his glimpse of higher
things in the temple, went back to the lowly peasant home at Nazareth,
and there for eighteen years more found scope enough for the
development of the richest nature this world ever saw, and for the
fullest and completest doing of duty ever wrought beneath the skies.
Whatever, then, may be our shrinking from dull tasks, our distaste for
dreary duty, our discontent with a narrow place and with limiting
circumstances, we should go promptly to the work that God assigns, and
accept the conditions that lie in the lot which he appoints. And in
our hardest toil, our most irksome tasks, our lowliest duties, our
dreariest and most uncongenial surroundings, we shall have but to lift
up our eyes to see the blessed form of Christ standing before us, with
cheer, sympathy, and encouragement for us.
There is more of the lesson. Not only did Christ reveal himself to
these disciples while at their lowly work, but he helped them in it.
He told them where to cast their net, and turned their failure to
success. We think of Christ as helping us to endure temptation, to
bear trial, to overcome sin, to do spiritual duties, but we sometimes
forget that he is just as ready to help us in our common work. That
morning he helped the disciples in their fishing. He will help us in
our trade or business, or in whatever work we have to do.
We all have our discouraged days, when things do not go well. The
young people fail in their lessons at school, although they have
studied hard, and really have done their best. Or the mothers fail in
their household work. The children are hard to control. It has been
impossible to keep good temper, to maintain that sweetness and
lovingness that are so essential to a happy day. They try to be
gentle, kindly, and patient, but, try as they will, their minds become
ruffled and fretted with cares. They come to the close of the long,
unhappy hours disturbed, defeated, discouraged. They have done their
best, but they feel that they have only failed. They fall upon their
knees, but they have only tears for a prayer. Yet if they will lift up
their eyes, they will see on the shore of the troubled sea of their
little day's life the form of One whose presence will give them
strength and confidence, and who will help them to victoriousness.
Before his sweet smile the shadows flee away. At his word new strength
is given, and, after that, work is easy, and all goes well again.
Men, too, in their busy life, are continually called to struggle,
ofttimes to suffer. Life is not easy for any who would live truly.
Work is hard; burdens are heavy; responsibility is great; trials are
sore; duty is large. Life's competitions are fierce; its rivalries are
keen; its frictions sometimes grind men's very souls well nigh to
death. It is hard to live sweetly amid the irritations that touch
continually at most tender points. It is hard to live lovingly and
charitably when they see so much inequity and wrong, and sometimes must
themselves endure men's uncharity and injustice. It is hard to toil
and never rest, earning even then scarce enough to feed and clothe
those who are dependent on them for care. It is hard to meet
temptation's fierce assaults, and keep themselves pure, unspotted from
the world, ready for heaven any hour the Lord may come.
It is no wonder that men are sometimes discouraged and lose heart.
They are like those weary disciples that spring morning on the Sea of
Galilee, after they had toiled all night and had taken nothing. But
let us not forget the vision that awaited these disciples with the
coming of the dawn--the risen Jesus standing on the shore with his
salutation of love and his strong help that instantly turned failure
into blessing. So over against every tempted, struggling, toiling life
of Christian disciple, Christ is ever standing, ready to give victory
and to guide to highest good.
Life would be easier for us all if we could realize the presence and
actual help of Christ in all our experiences. We need to care for only
one thing--that we may be faithful always to duty, and loyal to our
Master. Then, the duller the round and the sorer the struggle, the
surer we shall ever be of Christ's smile and help. We may glory in
infirmities, because then the power of God rests upon us.
It is not ordinarily in the easy ways, in the luxurious surroundings,
in the paths of worldly honor, in the congenial lot, that the brightest
heavenly visions are seen. There have been more blessed revealings of
Christ in prisons than in palaces, in homes of poverty than in homes of
abundance, in ways of hardship than in ways of ease. We need only to
accept our task-work, our drudgery, our toil, in Christ's name, and the
glory of Christ will transfigure it and shine upon our faces.