The notice which we have of our Apostle in John 1 is very brief indeed, though, doubtless, there is much wrapped up in it. “Andrew first findeth his own brother, Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ. And he brought him to Jesus. And when Jesus beheld him, He said, Thou art Simon, the son of Jonas: Thou shalt be called Cephas, which is by interpretation a stone.”
Now, we have no record here of any deep spiritual work in the soul of Simon. We are told his name in the old creation, and his name in the new; but there is no allusion whatever to those deep exercises of soul of which we know he was the subject. For these we must ask the reader to turn for a few moments to Luke 5, where we have a marvelous piece of divine workmanship.
“And it came to pass, that as the people pressed upon Him to hear the word of God, He stood by the lake of Gennesaret, and saw two ships standing by the lake; but the fishermen were gone out of them, and were washing their nets. And He entered into one of the ships, which was Simon’s, and prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land. And He sat down, and taught the people out of the ship.”
Mark especially the moral grace that shines here. “He prayed him that he would thrust out a little from the land.” Though Lord of all creation — Possessor of heaven and earth — He nevertheless, as the lowly, gracious man, courteously owns Simon’s proprietorship, and asks, as a favor, that he would thrust out a little from the shore. This was morally lovely, and we may rest assured it produced its own effect upon the heart of Simon.
“Now when He had left speaking, He said unto Simon, Launch out into the deep, and let down your nets for a draft.” Simon was about to be well paid for the loan of his boat. “And Simon, answering, said unto Him, Master, we have toiled all the night, and have taken nothing; nevertheless, at Thy word, I will let down the net.” There was power, as well as grace, in that word! “And when they had this done, they enclosed a great multitude of fishes; and their net brake. And they beckoned unto their partners, which were in the other ship, that they should come and help them. And they came, and filled both the ships, so that they began to sink.” Neither their nets nor their ships were able to sustain the marvelous fruit of divine power and goodness. “When Simon Peter saw it, he fell down at Jesus’ knees, saying, Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, Ο Lord.”
Here, then, we have the great practical effect produced in Peter’s soul by the combined action of grace and power. He is brought to see himself in the light of the divine presence, where alone self can be truly seen and judged. Simon had heard the word of Jesus addressed to the multitude on the shore. He had felt the sweet grace and moral beauty of His way toward himself. He had marked the display of divine power in the astonishing draft of fish. All told powerfully upon his heart and conscience, and brought him on his face before the Lord.
Now this is what we may call a genuine work of conviction. Simon is in the place of true self-judgment — a very blessed place indeed — a place from which all must start if they are to be much used in the Lord’s work, or if, indeed, they are ever to exhibit much depth or stability in the divine life. We need never look for any real power or progress unless there is a deep and solid work of the Spirit of God in the conscience. Persons who pass rapidly into what they call peace, are apt to pass as rapidly out of it again. It is a very serious thing indeed to be brought to see ourselves in the light of God’s presence, to have our eyes opened to the truth of our past history, our present condition, and our future destiny. Simon Peter found it so in his day, and so have all those who have been brought to a saving knowledge of Christ. Hearken to Isaiah’s words, when he saw himself in the powerful light of the divine glory. “Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the king, the Lord of hosts.” So also in the case of the patriarch, Job. “I have heard of Thee by the hearing of the ear; but now mine eye seeth Thee. Wherefore I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes.”
These glowing utterances reveal a deep and genuine work in both the patriarch and the prophet. And surely our apostle occupied the same moral ground when he exclaimed, from the very depths of a broken heart, “Depart from me; for I am a sinful man, Ο Lord.” If Simon is to be called Cephas, he must be thoroughly broken up, and brought to the end of himself. If he is to be used to catch men, he must learn, in a divine way, man’s true condition. If he is to teach others that “all flesh is as grass,” he must learn the application of this great truth to his own heart.
Thus it is in every case. Look at Saul of Tarsus. What mean those three days of blindness, during which he neither did eat nor drink? May we not confidently affirm that they were serious days, perhaps the most serious in the entire history of that remarkable man? They were, doubtless, days in the which he was led down to the most profound depths of his moral being, the deepest roots of his history, his nature, his character, his conduct, his religion. He was led to see that his whole life had been a terrible mistake, an awful lie; that his very career as a religious man had been one of mad rebellion against the Christ of God. All this, we may feel assured, passed in solemn and soul-subduing review before the soul of this deeply, because divinely, convicted man. His repentance was no superficial work; it was deep and thorough; it left its impress upon the whole of his after course, character, and ministry. He, too, like Simon, was brought to the end of himself, and there he found an object that not only met his deepest need, but also perfectly satisfied all the cravings and aspirations of his renewed being.
Now, we must confess we delight in contemplating a spiritual work of this kind. It is truly refreshing to dwell upon conversions of this type. We greatly fear that in much of the work of our time there is a sad lack of depth and spiritual power, and, as a consequence, a lack of stability in the Christian character, and of permanency in the Christian course. It may be that those of us who are engaged in the work of evangelization are feeble and shallow in the divine life ourselves, that we are not near enough to Christ to understand how to deal with souls; that we do not know how to present the truth from God’s side of it; that we are more desirous of showing out how the sinner’s need is met, than how the glory of God is secured and maintained. We do not, perhaps, sufficiently press the claims of truth and holiness upon the consciences of our hearers. There is a want of fullness in the presentation of the truth of God, too much harping upon one string; there is a barrenness and dreary monotony in the preaching, arising from lack of abiding near the fountain head, and drinking into our own souls from the inexhaustible springs of grace and truth in the Person and work of Christ. Perhaps, too, we are more occupied with ourselves and our preaching than with Christ and His glory; more anxious to be able to parade the results of our work, than to be a sweet savor of Christ to God-ward.
We cannot but feel the weight and seriousness of these considerations for all who take part in the work of the gospel. We certainly do need to be more in the presence of God in reference to our service, for we cannot, by any possibility, hide from ourselves the fact, in reference to the preaching of this our day, that the fruit is small in quantity, and poor in quality. We desire to bless God for any display of His grace and power in souls; though we are by no means able to accredit as genuine much that is boastfully paraded in the way of conversion. What we long for is a deep, genuine, unmistakable work of the Holy Spirit, a work which will prove itself, beyond all contradiction, by its permanent results in the life and character. It is one thing to reckon up and publish a number of cases of conversion, and quite another to see these cases made good in actual fact. The Holy Spirit can, and does, tell us at times in the page of inspiration the number of souls converted. He tells us of three thousand on one occasion. He can do so, because He knows perfectly all about it. He can read the heart. He can distinguish between the spurious and the genuine. But when men undertake to count up and publish the number of their converts, we must receive their statements with considerable reserve and caution.
Not that we would be suspicious. God forbid; yea, we would earnestly cultivate a hopeful temper of soul. Still, we cannot but feel that it is better, in every case, to let the work speak for itself. All that is really divine is sure to be found, even though it be after many days; whereas on the other hand, there is immense danger, both for the workman and his work, in an eager and hasty reckoning up and publishing of results.
But we must return to the lake of Gennesaret, and dwell for a moment on the lovely grace that shines forth in our Lord’s dealing with Simon Peter. The work of conviction was deep and real. There could be no mistaking it. The arrow had entered the heart, and gone right to its very center. Peter felt and owned that he was a man full of sin. He felt he had no right to be near such an one as Jesus; and yet we may truly say he would not for worlds have been anywhere else. He was perfectly sincere in saying, “Depart from me,” though we cannot but believe he had an inward conviction that the blessed One would do nothing of the kind. And if He had, He was right. Jesus could never depart from a poor broken-hearted sinner — no, never. It was His richest, deepest, joy to pour the healing balm of His love and grace into a wounded soul. It was His delight to heal the broken heart. He was anointed for that work, and it was His meat and His drink to do it, blessed forever be His holy name!
“And Jesus said unto Simon, Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men.” Here was the divine response to the cry of a contrite heart. The wound was deep, but the grace was deeper still. The soothing hand of a Savior-God applied the precious balm. Simon was not only convicted, but converted. He saw himself to be a man full of sin, but he saw the Savior full of grace; nor was it possible that his sin could be beyond the reach of that grace. Oh, no! there is grace in the heart of Jesus, as there is power in His blood, to meet the very chief of sinners. “Fear not; from henceforth thou shalt catch men. And when they had brought their ships to land, they forsook all, and followed Him.”
This was real work. It was a bona fide case, as to which there could be no question; a case of conviction, conversion, and consecration.
“He spread the banquet, made me eat, Bid all my fears remove; Yea, o’er my guilty rebel head, He placed His banner — Love.”