FIRST SUNDAY AFTER EASTER.
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.