John 21:15

THE ASKING CHRIST

Lovest thou Me?

John 21:15

‘Lovest thou Me?’ How does this sound, as regards the thought, the purpose, that lies behind it?

I. What does it say about the Speaker? Perhaps it carries with it at first, in our apprehension of it, the air of a demand—a claim, the levy of a due, the summons for an unpaid debt. Here is One Who knows (for He knows all things, and this assuredly is a fact present to His mind) that the son of Jonas is under immeasurable obligations to Him, and ought to love Him. Most certainly Jesus, for Simon, has done and borne incalculably much within the last few wonderful weeks; Simon is infinitely and for ever the better for the Cross and Passion. And behind all the atoning death, and the sin-covering merit, and the robe of righteousness, and the resultant pardon and peace for this very guilty man—behind it, and above it, there lies all that is implied by the fact that Christ has not only saved Peter, but first made him. He can claim the man’s whole being in the double name of Rescuer and of Creator. Yes, all this is the very truth; truth for me, and for you, as much altogether as for that Galilæan penitent of old. But I do not think that we read aright the thought and accent of the Lord in His question, Do you love Me? if we read into it this notion—the exaction of a right, the reminder of a debt.

II. Jesus Christ knew well that human love can never be asked for, face to face, except as just the free response to love; the return, the repercussion, of a tenderness that has first gone freely out as the unselfish gift of the asker’s heart. Just this is the beauty, the glory, the magnetic virtue, once it is apprehended, of the Lord Jesus Christ’s inquiry of us, Do you love Me? It is the very touch which lifts the veil from the heart, not of Peter, but of Jesus. In the very act of asking about Peter’s love for Him, He discloses His love for Peter; a love which is something infinitely different from mere compassion, or mere benevolence, or mere condescension. For it is a love which goes out towards Peter so powerfully, so longingly, with such contact and embrace, that it cannot rest without the responsive gaze and clasp of Peter’s love to Jesus. The Lord is not just stooping to say, It is your privilege to love Me. He covets His sinful disciple’s love; He wants it; it is important to Him; it is much to Him; because He loves the man with such mighty love Himself. Jesus Christ cannot ask if Peter loves Him, and cannot ask, as He does to-day, if we love Him, without betraying how much, how really, how strongly, He loves us.

III. O human soul, listen to the inquiry of Jesus Christ, and give yourself time to understand what it means about Himself.

(a) Are you acquainted with grief, perhaps such grief—so long and deep—as has seemed at last rather to benumb the heart than pierce it, yet leaving the consciousness of loss, of solitude, of change, only too complete? Nevertheless, One stands beside you Who is acquainted with grief Himself, in depths which He has sounded alone. The woe is over for Him, but not the experience. Souffrir passe; avoir souffert demeure éternellement. He understands you, as sorrow understands sorrow. But He also loves you; and He is avaricious of your love. Let Him have it, Him the eternal Truth and Beauty, but also the Brother and the Friend. And when your love has met and satisfied His, believe me, there shall take place a miracle at the point of contact; ‘your sorrow shall be turned into joy.’

(b) Human, heart, distracted, bewildered, preoccupied with we know not what—dissatisfied, perhaps, apart from Christ, perhaps, far sadder still, satisfied for the time apart from Him—to-day let no word be spoken by me of the vast truths which concern duty, law, and judgment to come. It shall be enough this hour to say once more, Listen to the asking Christ. Behold the Son of God; behold the Man of men! You are profoundly important to Him. He wants, He covets you. He will ‘proudly wear’ your love; He is asking whether it is for Him. Let your heart meet His; and for you, too, the contact shall work miracles.

Bishop H. C. G. Moule.