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The Prodigal's Prayer

The Prodigal's Prayer

BY

Rev. CHAS. HERBERT SCHOLEY, M.A., B.D.

New York Chicago Toronto

Fleming H. Revell Company

Publishers of Evangelical Literature

Copyright, 1899

by

FLEMING H. REVELL COMPANY

DEDICATED

AS A

TOKEN OF LOVE

TO

MY FATHER AND MY MOTHER
C. H. S.

Contents

PAGB

The Prodigal's Prayer . . 9
Fishers of Men . . . .41

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

The text is in the seventh chapter of the gos-
pel according to St. Matthew, the seventh verse,
— " ask, and it shall be given you ; seek, and ye
shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto
you."

Do Christians possess a magical
charm or talisman? Alladin of the
Arabian Knights could rub a ring or a
lamp and food, treasures, palaces were
his. Every want was satisfied. Life
is universally the creation of wants
and then the attempt to satisfy them.
Did Christ promise a panacea for all
these longings ?

That marvellous sermon on the
mount is packed full of principles ac-
cording to which we should order our
lives. It is full of suggestions by
9

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

which we can make living easier and
better for ourselves and for others.
Then we have a great secret of suc-
cess here in the words of the text?
Can we simply ash, and thus possess
happiness ? Can we simply seek, and
thus get wealth ? Can we simply
knock, and thus have opened to us an
abiding place of peace ? Does Christ
promise this ?

Of course you will remember that
these words according to St. Mark
were uttered by Jesus after He had
taught the disciples the Lord's prayer.
So they bear on the question of prayer,
but cannot mean that all the disciples'
wishes without distinction, even those
which are unwarranted and pernicious,
shall be fulfilled. Jesus has only de-
clared that the asking and the seeking
shall receive an answer. But whether
it will be precisely what was sought
for is another question. Indeed some-
thing entirely different from that de-
sired may be the petitioner's portion.

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

"What man is there of you, whom
if his son ask bread, will he give him
a stone?" (Matt. vii. 9.) Surely a
father would not be so heartless as in
mockery to give his hungry son a
stone! Yet a son does not always get
what he asks. Nor do men in general
get what they seek. Nor do Chris-
tians for their knocking have doors
opened through their difficulties. Yet
why should not these sincere desires
be granted? For "if ye then, being
evil, know how to give good gifts
unto your children, how much more
shall your Father which is in heaven
give good things to them that ask
Him?" (Matt. vii. 11.)

A desire may seem simple and safe
enough to grant according to human
wisdom. But as Jesus only gives as-
surance that the heavenly Father will
give good things to them that ask,
there is involved something more last-
ing than the present satisfaction.
What that something is which may

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

transform good gifts into evil or evil
into good ones, is worth discovering.

There is a well-known Bible-story
of a father who was most liberal in
gifts to his two sons. The experi-
ences of each of these characters give
some insight into the value and into
the meaning of gratified wishes.

"A certain man had two sons: and
the younger of them said to his father,
Father, give me the portion of goods
that falleth to me. And he divided
unto them his living." (Luke xv. ii,
12.) The younger son prays his
father to grant a certain favor. Nay,
he does not simply make a request,
but he rather demands of his father
that to him be given what he had a
possible right to claim. What he
seeks is possession of property which
by inheritance would be left to him.

Was this young man asking prop-
erly? From the narrative we gain a
hint of the home life of this young fel-
low. A father and two sons are

12

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

evidently living together in circum-
stances of comfort and affluence. The
father is a respected and just man,
with great pride in and love for his
sons. The elder son is apparently a
practical, conservative man of affairs
relieving his ageing father from the
worry and management of his numer-
ous interests. The younger son has
probably just come of age, is full of
the impetuosity of youth, loves his
father in an unconscious way, but
finds his brother of a too cold and un-
companionable disposition, so that
perhaps a little estrangement has
grown up between the brothers.

The younger feels that he is being
ignored in the management of the
estate. " If I had only a little more
say, a bigger part of the farm would
have been sowed in grain the past
season and so great profit been made
by selling at the high prices now pre-
vailing. But no! my elder brother
was too conservative, altogether too
13

" The Prodigal's Prayer "

slow. If he had only listened to me
he would have found out that all the
family brains had not come to the first-
born. I will just show my brother
and father that they had not half
realized what a clever fellow I am. I'll
make my mark! "

The father gratifies this personal,
free, willful choice of his son, and
" divided unto them his living." We
shall not criticise the father. Some
would criticise the son's motive in
seeking possession of the wealth and
say that he wanted it with the sole
desire of escaping from the order and
discipline of his home to waste his
substance in riotous living. But let
us not blind ourselves in beginning
the story of his career by being prej-
udiced against him.

The younger son was like many an-
other young man, who has demanded
his portion because he has felt that he
must start out and make his own way
in the world. Can we not imagine
14

" The Prodigal's Prayer "

how in the first few days of his new
possession the younger son went out
especially early every morning to see
that his flock of sheep and little drove
of cattle were rightly cared for. And
then one day in what high spirits he
came in saying, " Father, I had a great
bit of news to-day and have taken ad-
vantage of it. I heard, from one who
knows, that the merchants of Tyre
cannot get enough wool for cloth to
fill their order for the troops of Mace-
donia. We'll be able to get almost
any price we ask for our spring shear-
ing. And so before the news got out,
1 made a good trade with our neigh-
bor Laban, and I've got sheep for all
my cattle! "

"A fine bargain you've made,"
probably sniffed the elder brother,
"for I believe Laban's flock is tainted
with mange."

"Don't worry," said the father,
"this may turn out well as I have
known such to do before. But, my
IS

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

boy, I am afraid you were a little fool-
ish to trade off all your cattle."

Looking after his big flock of sheep
at length became rather monotonous.
And why wouldn't his father and
brother let him have the liberty and
enjoyment of planting his fields and
managing his own affairs just as he
pleased! He was confident he could
succeed well enough by himself.

Well, it was after not many days,
after the crops had been put in, and
the work was a little slack awaiting
the time for cultivation, that the
younger brother having busied his
mind with little plans, said, "Father,
there isn't much to see to here now.
You know I am anxious about my
wool venture, and I've been thinking
that if I only went to Tyre I could
watch the market and sell to better
advantage than by staying away off
here." So he collected his valuables,
realized some money on whatever he
could, and having gathered all to-
i6

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

gather, took his journey into a far
country.

Nothing develops a young man so
much as getting away from home.
Take from him the thoughtful care of
loving parents and make him rely upon
himself. Deprive him of that de-
pendent yielding to the continual com-
fort with which fond hearts would
enfold him. Force him to think for
himself, provide for himself, struggle
in competition with other men and
you make that home-leaving son a
man. Or, perhaps you un-make him,
if there is in his character that some-
thing which can turn good gifts into
evil. How many a father's blessing
has followed his son to the great city
where he was to make his mark. But
there, how black has been the mark
which the devil has helped him make
— if that young man has set up as his
ideal the serving of self, which is the
bond of partnership with Satan.

In the parable Christ states the man-
17

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

ner of the younger son's living in brief
and simple terms, — " there wasted his
substance with riotous living." We
might almost imagine that the com-
passionate Jesus in the telling of this
story shrank from branding the erring
one with crime worse than mere im-
provident living. The stinging words
imputed to the elder brother bring out
the enormity of the sin in the fullness
of its shame, — "hath devoured thy
living with harlots."

Shall we consider the fall of the
younger son to have come about as
rapidly as the transition of the thought
in the single sentence setting it forth ?
While the downward path ending in
destruction is as sure and finally a
swift one, yet the beginning is an al-
most imperceptible descent. So let us
imagine this was the case with this
younger son in the city of Tyre.

The sale of the wool had been
profitably managed. He had the
money. He might now return home.

" The Prodigal's Prayer '*

But, why do so just yet ? He is hav-
ing a good time; he is enjoying in-
dependence, freedom from the con-
trol and restraint of home. His father
and brother could manage affairs with-
out him a little longer. He might even
have the chance of making some
money by staying at Tyre and taking
advantage of the offer of a merchant
to take him into a venture about to be
made.

"It is so cool and delightful down
by the sea, while at home the season
is undoubtedly growing hot and dis-
tressing. There are such pleasant re-
sorts at the seaside, and such jolly
companions there too. I may not
have another chance soon to be in
Tyre, so I might as well enjoy myself
now!" Thus his home-going was
put off and put off. His venture with
the merchant furnished an excuse for
this. Indeed, he had gotten into so
many things that he sent word to his
father to dispose of what property of
19

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

his was still left, and to send on the
proceeds, which he knew he could
use to good advantage in Tyre.

What a tale the messenger had to
tell the eager listeners in that little
town upon his return from delivering
the money to the younger son. " He
was arrayed in purple and fine linen.
He is living like a prince. Surely he
is prospering!"

Apparently this was the case with
the younger son. When first he came
to Tyre he had lived quietly, unosten-
tatiously, by himself. But that grew
tiresome and lonely. It made him
homesick to go about unrecognized
amid the crowds, and uncheered
by companionship upon his return.
Every one was too much engrossed in
their own affairs to give the stranger a
thought. So he began to yearn for
that genial, hearty good-fellowship,
which he had with friends at home
and which was a part of his nature.
Did he find a kindly refuge in the

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

synagogue or in the temples, where as
a stranger he was passed by with a
mere glance ? He found more of a
welcome with his business acquaint-
ances. And it was through one of
these that he found a cordial reception
among a little jovial circle of kindred
spirits. The presence of a newcomer
modified their talk, somewhat toned
down their jests. Yet even then the
younger son felt slightly embarrassed
at what he chided himself with as
boorishness, ''since of course he had
not the wider knowledge of life as
these city fellows had." But he found
his opinions were given a certain
deference, his jokes boisterously ap-
preciated, his ambitions and plans
listened to with some seriousness.

So little by little he became amalga-
mated with this coterie where goes on
the happy, free, careless consideration
of one another's joys and sorrows,
hopes and loves. With his impetuous
good-fellowship, with his openly frank

21

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

nature, with his ready generosity, the
younger son soon came to the tlattering
position of being considered indispen-
sable to that little group when they
were to be off for a good time. And
they nicknamed him "The Prodigal."

Having a good time is undoubtedly
often wrongly judged to consist in
getting well filled with " good " wine.
All trouble's drowned, all pleasure's
afloat in a beliquored brain. But re-
turning consciousness serves as a
wrecking company and grim reality
again grins at you. Water was per-
haps not such a safe and popular
drink in the days of the Prodigal as
now. Wine was probably then as it
is now used mistakenly as a sign of
social prestige or affluence.

Money made by the Prodigal's first
fortunate venture went into other more
questionable ones and into the setting
up of that establishment which daz-
zled the eyes of the country messenger.
This place became the rendezvous of

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

the Prodigal's first genial companions
and of others whom he later attracted
himself. These were not such friends
as he should have had. They were
not the true, lifelong friends of his
old home. They were the transient,
flattering self-seekers of a parasitic
class, ready to live where a living
could be more easily grasped.

When reckless extravagance and
successful business ventures began to
cast a warning shadow across the
Prodigal's table and upon his face;
when curtailed hospitality led the
former cronies to declare "the latest
cook is vile," "the velvet carpets are
badly worn," "things are becoming
horribly in need of refurnishing," and
" Circe is not dressing as she used to
and her jewels are disappearing;"
when a little loan was less leniently
forgotten by the Prodigal and the
golden glint disappeared from among
his coins; then it was that former
friendly grasps loosened. He was not
23

" The Prodigal's Prayer "

as indispensable as he used to be at
certain gatherings. Why, it was even
said that Perseus had passed him with-
out deigning to make him a saluta-
tion.

Thus did the Prodigal undoubtedly
realize what certain kinds of friend-
ship really are. He would have agreed
with an early Roman philosopher who
under similar experiences of life as
lived amid the ancient civilization
wrote sharply of such friendship as
he had seen. Said he, — "For univer-
sally, be not deceived, every animal is
attached to nothing so much as to its
own interests. Whatever then ap-
pears to be an impediment to this
interest, whether this be a brother, or
a child, or beloved, or lover, it hates,
spurns, curses; for it is its nature to
love nothing so much as its own in-
terests; this is father and brother, and
kinsman, and God. — But you may
say, Such a one treated me with re-
gard so long; and did he not love me ?
24

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

How do you know, slave, if he did
not regard you in the same way he
wipes his shoes with a sponge, or as
he takes care of his beast ? How do
you know, when you have ceased to
be useful as a vessel, he will not throw
you away like a broken platter ? "
(Epictetus' Discourses.)

The Prodigal was broken in fortune,
in friendship, probably in health. A
famine was on in the land. ** He began
to be in want." Yes literally "he be-
gan to be behind," and unpaid bills
were harder and harder to settle.
Business was depressed and failure
ahead. The future faced him like a
fiendish foe. He had wasted his sub-
stance with riotous living.

The Prodigal had drunk the cup of
pleasure to the dregs. What was it
all to him now? Nothing! and less
than nothing, "Vanity of vanities,
vanity of vanities; all is vanity."
(Eccl. i. 2.) The dream at an
end. Everything vanished. Repu-
25

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

tation gone! Honor gone!! Virtue
gone!!! Nothing left but his worth-
less self. And why let it longer mock
him ? Why not with a few drops of
poison and one short, sharp spasm
shake off all worldly woe, as had
Circe done when he cast her off. Or,
why not with the few coins left, once
more with wine woo forgetfulness,
and before waking to want, with his
dagger, like the false and ill-fated
friend Perseus, let wine and life es-
cape together ?

Ah no! his hand is stayed. Not by
an angel as with Abraham's descend-
ing, daggered hand. But the feeble
voice of a reviving conscience fright-
ens him from the deed. Fear lays
hold upon him; fear of an angry and
outraged God. Dare he face that God
with his useless, polluted, sinful rec-
ord? No! For the Proverbs say,
"The way of the wicked is an abom-
ination unto the Lord." (xv. 9.)
So he must put off that dread ordeal
26

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

of God's condemnation. Nor would
he let his former companions have the
chance to jest at his untimely end. He
would not add to his record this final
shame and cause his father deeper
sorrow.

Alas! his poor father! The Prodigal
could not bear to face him after the
heartless conduct which had made
him unworthy a father's love. He
would not turn toward home now.
He would go elsewhere that he might
be blotted out of the father's existence
and memory. Yet the Prodigal must
live, and live he could not in the city.
He has no skill which would be in
demand even if labor were not then a
drug on the market. So using his last
coin, he turns to his old occupation
and gets away to join himself to a
farmer.

His life in Tyre had sadly changed

the Prodigal. He is not fit for the

work he used to do on his father's

farm. Half-sick, weak, with bloated

27

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

face and repulsive appearance, he
found it hard to persuade the farmer
to give him even such a menial and
degraded position as that of swine-
herd.

Day by day he sat in the field
watching the swine. Day after day
he heard no voice but that of his con-
science no longer stifled by the laugh-
ing voices of companions or by seduc-
tive sound of flattery. Night after
night did visions of his gay life haunt
him. Night and again would he take
his meagre pay to the public house.
For it was hard to quench that old
thirst and it was easy to sink into a
stupefaction blotting out all memory
and all conscience.

The Prodigal was fast falling lower
than the hogs he tended, "and he
would fain have filled his belly with
the husks that the swine did eat, and
no man gave unto him." (Luke xv.
1 6.) Surely he was foully treated.
No man gave unto him! and why
28

"The ProdigaPs Prayer"

should they give to him, a rag-
ged, bloated, despondent swineherd ?
Would he not but change the helping
gift for a damning drink ? Might he
not then in blinded frenzy like a sense-
less boar turn and rend the hand which
had cast the pearls of charity before
him ?

"No man gave unto him," yet that
evident unkindness was a blessing to
him. For the extreme pressure of
want finally showed the Prodigal the
contrast between the country and cir-
cumstances to which his sin had
brought him and that plenty and
peace which he had known at home.
He sees that he is in want and suffer-
ing not through providential circum-
stances, but through his own mis-
doing. He realizes that the motive of
his whole life has been unconsciously
the service of self. He had enthroned
self in the place of God and to his
self-made God given homage and
obedience. He laments the self-love
29

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

which took him away from his father's
love. So the change comes from
a mere loving for food and drink to a
longing for the father's love, long lost.
He is now willing to go back as a
humble penitent. He is now anxious
to be near his father, if only as a hired
servant. He wants to have his father's
kindly guiding hand direct his own
youngbut weakened will. Oh! simply
to be able to serve his father!

The Prodigal's moral nature has
awakened, his impulses are trans-
formed, his life is changed. He has
come to himself. He forsakes his
old self and selfishness. He seeks a
simple, serviceable life. He struggles
back over the road which he thought
led to fortune, but which he now
agonizingly hopes may still lead to a
loving and merciful father.

" When he was yet a great way off,
his father saw him, and had compas-
sion, and ran, and fell on his neck
and kissed him." (Luke xv. 20.) This
30

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

reception was more than the Prodigal
expected. It renders impossible his
humble request to be received as a
servant. The father's love has antici-
pated the confession of sin and wrong,
which was flowing from the hum-
bled, grateful, and thoroughly peni-
tent heart. This was more strength-
ening, more welcome to the Prodigal's
changed heart than were the fatted
calf and feast to his weakened consti-
tution.

One thing was lacking to the com-
plete joy of the Prodigal's return. All
the elder brother's unkindness was
not forgotten by the younger brother,
who longed for his forgiveness and
forgetting sympathy also. But the
elder brother was one of those unfor-
tunate natures which can never forget
and which seldom forgive. ''What
means this sound of gayety which
strikes his ears as he approaches the
house!" Impassive, proud, haughty
and portly, the elder brother calls to a
31

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

servant and demands the meaning of
what he hears. The servant replies,
"Thy brother is come and thy father
hath killed the fatted calf because he
hath received him safe and sound."
(Luke XV. 27.) "And he was angry
and would not go in."

Indeed he was angry. " When had
he been given half such a feast and
celebration as was prepared for this
wanton spendthrift ? Had not that
one now returned simply to live on
the savings of him who had worked
hard day by day instead of seeing the
world and living in idleness! No!
He would not go in."

" Therefore came the father and en-
treated the elder son." But the fa-
ther's loving appeal for a brother's
sympathy toward him who had sinned
and suffered for his sin, brings forth
this answer, — "Lo, these many years
do I serve thee, neither transgressed
I at any time thy commandments:
and yet thou never gavest me a kid
32

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

that I might make merry with my
friends."

The father does not deny this and
his reply, — "Son, thou art ever with
me, and all that I have is thine," shows
that the elder brother had not yet dis-
possessed the father of the portion
falling to him, and that indeed he was
a dutiful son; his life had been con-
stant, conscientious and moral. But
there was a lack of heart and absence
of affection. His blamelessness was
external and not of the heart. The
elder brother by his words even
showed the narrowed selfishness.

He might have been given a kid for
a feast with his friends as an occasional
reward for his faithful industry. No
kid for me! But a fatted calf for him
who gained the name of ** Prodigal"
in Tyre! Not even the least forme
who had been so unlike this fellow!
Nothing for me the "Unprodigal "!
But the elder by the words hereby
used to justify his blame of the fallen
33

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

brother, at the same time reveals his
own nature. His nature was as coldly
selfish as that younger brother's had
been impetuously selfish. It was as
the servile disposition of a hired serv-
ant, counting only the gain, and was
not the spirit of a devoted son to a
loving and deserving father. It was
that narrow-minded temperament
which can see actions in only one
light; and that light is the dimmed
one of their own narrow experience,
and of their own bigoted, low-grade,
but highly intensive imagination.

The elder brother was undoubtedly
intended by Christ to represent that
class which he was continually de-
nouncing in such scathing words as
they most truly deserved. "Woe
unto you, scribes and Pharisees, hypo-
crites! for ye are like unto whited
sepulchres, which indeed appear beau-
tiful outward, but are within full of
dead men's bones, and of all unclean-
ness." (Matt, xxiii. 27.) "Woe unto
34

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites!
for ye pay tithes of mint and anise and
cummin, and have omitted the weight-
ier matters of law, judgment, mercy,
and faith; these ought ye to have
done, and not to leave the other un-
done." (Matt, xxiii. 2^.) **Thou
hypocrite, first cast the beam out of
thine own eye." (Matt. vii. 5.) "It
was meet that we should make merry
and be glad; for this thy brother was
dead and is alive again; and was lost
and is found again."

The intenseness of interest in this
story of the Prodigal centres in the res-
toration. "There is joy in the pres-
ence of the angels of God over one
sinner that repenteth." (Luke xv. 10.)
A son regained! A sinner saved! A
brother resurrected! Should not the
feelings of the elder brother as well as
of the father have been like the su-
preme joyousness of Mary and Martha
when Christ called forth Lazarus from
the reeking tomb ?
35

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

But, do you not suspect that the
elder brother's heart was dead, and
could not feel for another? The
only true, full throbbing heart in the
story is that of the father. One heart
dead in the coldest of respectable sel-
fishness! One heart almost stopped
through the selfish clogging with
pleasures! One heart beating on
through surrender of property, blow
to family honor, loss of loved one!
Why did the father's heart still thus
beat and warm into renewed life one
who was dead in trespasses and sin ?
Because subserviency of selfish thought
for his own good had not quite killed
the life of his heart! The father
thought first of his sons, then of him-
self. The sons thought first of them-
selves, and then of their father, if they
thought at all. They would take all
the good gifts he could give unto them,
and give nothing in return.

Thus in the life of the Prodigal son
is seen the effect of gifts, good in
36

" The Prodigal's Prayer "

themselves and to him seemingly so.
These he asked and obtained. A lov-
ing father bestowed them. But the
intended benefit, the much desired
things brought degradation, misery,
and a narrow escape from death,
earthly and eternal.

Think you not that the Prodigal did
not with his declining fortune utter
prayers for help and escape ? Yet no
saving success but dire disaster turned
up to his seeking. Still the evil was
turned into good, for he came to him-
self, realized his selfishness, and went
to knock as a suppliant at his father's
door. " Father I am no more worthy
to be called thy son; make me as one
of thy hired servants." That sub-
missive, humble and faltering prayer
was more than answered.

It was Christ in the agony of Geth-
semane prayed, — "O My Father, if
it be possible, let this cup pass from
Me: nevertheless not as I will, but as
Thou wilt." (Matt. xxvi. 39.) We,
37

"The Prodigal's Prayer**

too, pray, — " O God, give me the por-
tion of goods that should fall to mel
As I will, Thou shalt do!!" Our
prayers are answered. But the prom-
ise is often fortunately fulfilled so dif-
erently from what we sought. We
get not the goods we coveted; we get
nothing; or, we get even worse than
nothing. Yet in this contrary fulfill-
ment of our petition we are sometimes
by the very disappointment given a
divine gift, which is the discernment
of what it would be wiser for us to
seek.

What can we ask and receive?
" Create in me a clean heart, O God;
and renew a right spirit within me."
(Psalm li. 10.) What can we seek
and find? "Seek ye first the king-
dom of God and His righteousness;
and all these things shall be added unto
you." (Matt. vi. 33.) What shall be
opened to our knocking? "Behold,
I have set before thee an open door,
and no man can shut it: for thou hast
38

"The Prodigal's Prayer"

a little strength, and hast kept My
word, and hast not denied My name."
(Rev. iii. 8.) "I am the way, the
truth and the life: no man cometh
unto the Father, but by Me." (John
xiv. 6.)

Truly, no man cometh unto the Fa-
ther, nor cometh unto a right under-
standing of gifts, except he learn of
Christ. Better leave the gold hidden
in the earth than to hide it as a miser's
hoard. "For what shall it profit a
man, if he shall gain the whole world,
and lose his own soul ? " (Mark viii.
^6.) Ah, it is the spiritual which is
of far more value than the material.
Christ declares it. He, who sought
less in this world than the foxes with
their holes and the birds with their
nests, reveals the worth of things to
lie not in themselves but in the spirit
with which they are given or received.

An unselfish, loving, consecrated
purpose is the talisman which will
bring God's best gifts unto us. A
39

" The Prodigal's Prayer "

thoughtful, loving, sympathetic spirit
is the alchemist's stone which will
change our trifling gifts into an ines-
timable treasure in the hand and in
the heart of the receiver. Let us seek
for ourselves, and let us endeavor to
be the means of extending to others
that greatest of blessings which is the
gift of God, eternal life through our
Lord Jesus Christ.

Benediction : '* Now, unto Him that
is able to keep you from falling, and
present you faultless before the pres-
ence of His glory, with an exceeding
joy, to the only wise God, our Saviour,
be glory and majesty, dominion and
power, now and forever. Amen."

40

Fishers of Men

The text is in the fourth chapter of the gospel
according to St. Matthew, the nineteenth verse :
— " And He saith unto them, Follow Me, and I
will make you fishers of men."

" Fishers of men " is now a familiar
phrase, but to those Gahlean fisher-
men, Simon and Peter, it must have
sounded strange. It was a call to a
new mode of living. In the early
morning as they were casting a net
into the sea, these words were wafted
across to them: — ''Follow Me, and I
will make you fishers of men." We
can imagine how Simon and Andrew,
with half-lowered net, stopped in sur-
prise to see whence came such words.
It seems likely from the setting of the
incident, and from the narratives in
41

Fishers of Men

Mark and Luke (i. i8; v. 4-10), that
the night was a bad one for fishing.
The two brothers were perhaps moan-
ing their luck as they made this one
last cast, which they hoped would
bring them something to make their
long night's toil not wholly unprofita-
ble.

At this moment, the words of the
text smote upon the ears of these
Galilean fishermen. A strange con-
trast was brought to their minds; they
were working at their daily occupa-
tion and failure crowned their efforts.
But this strange suggestion, "Fishers
of men," what could it mean, and in
that unusual vocation what success
would crown their endeavors ?

The source of these unexpected
words, Simon and Peter found to be
the lips of one who was as marvellous
as His utterances; it was Jesus of
Nazareth. Not unknown to them was
this strange teacher, for He had pub-
licly taught in Galilee and repeated the
42

Fishers of Men

warning cry of John the Baptist,—
** Repent for the Kingdom of Heaven
is at hand." At Nazareth also He had
in the synagogue declared the prophecy
of Isaiah fulfilled in Himself, the Mes-
siah who was heralded by John in the
wilderness.

What could Jesus mean ? " Follow
Me," they could not understand, for it
was the custom of the rabbis to gather
a circle of disciples about themselves
as masters. So this was a call to be-
come permanent disciples of Jesus as
a teacher. This they were ready to
do. But in calling these first apostles
into active fellowship with Him, Jesus
does it at such a time and with such
words that it serves at the same mo-
ment as an object lesson to them.

Simon and Andrew were fishermen.
Yet as "fishers of men" instead of
"catchers of fish" they would find
many experiences similar to those in
their former occupation. They had just
been disappointed in their labor to
43

Fishers of Men

take the • fish from the deep. They
would often be disappointed in their
attempt to lead erring souls from
bondage of sin to a saving knowledge
of Jesus Christ. They had often con-
tended with the fury of the storms,
but the buffetings of nature would
soon seem to them a time of joy as
they for Jesus' sake withstood the hos-
tility of the priestly class, the calumny
of the learned scribes, and the fierce
onslaught of the surging masses of the
common rabble. Could they weather
the storms ahead of them as well as
they had those of the Lake of Galilee ?

Yes ; for they would use that tire-
less persistence which is characteristic
of fishermen; they would the long
night through, struggle in prayer
against temptation and for the souls
of sinners, as they had tugged at the
sails or strained at the nets.

There would also be a contrast be-
tween their new and their old lives.
Not simply that they would be labor-
44

Fishers of Men

ing for men instead of for fish, but
that whereas they had caught fish for
the death and destruction of the fish,
now they would catch men for life
and salvation. Furthermore, the great-
est change would be seen in their own
lives. Commonplace, obscure and un-
known Galilean fishermen had they
been. Extraordinary, famous men
were they to be; the world-famed
apostles of Jesus Christ; founders of
the early church which was to grow
into a world-wide power; and Simon
surnamed Peter was to be the spokes-
man and leader of that world-revolu-
tionizing band of disciples of Christ to
die a martyr's death, and to have a
mighty institution built upon his
name.

What wrought such a change in the
lives of those two unknown and un-
developed fishermen ? — It was the call
"Follow Me" which led them to
learn of Christ, the way of life, not
selfishly for themselves but unselfishly
45

Fishers of Men

for whomsoever was astray or adrift.
— It was the changed energy of their
lives and the transformed natural in-
stincts whereby Christ indeed fulfilled
in them the promise, "I will make
you fishers of men."

Fishing was the business of Simon
and Andrew. They may have fol-
lowed this occupation either from
choice or from the necessity and cir-
cumstances of their surroundings.
However that may be, there seems to
be a natural instinct in man to fish.
Where is the man who has not at one
end of a line been broiled in the sun
or soaked in the rain ? Where is the
boy who has not with twine and bent
pin tried to lure a finny prize from —
even the nearest mud-puddle? Ah!
that love of catching something; that
inborn instinct of pursuit and conquest
which fires the breast of every man
and woman.

Consider what a fortunate thing it is
that we possess this quality. With-
46

Fishers of Men

out it man would have remained the
barbarian, the mere brute man, con-
tent to live solely an existence of eat-
ing and drinking and sleeping. With
it he has been restless in the desire to
catch larger game, hence primitive
man contrived his spears and axes of
stone, and then in time of bronze and
of iron until his needs were met. For
his convenience and comfort he no
longer left the sun sole god of fire but
robbed him of his supremacy by rub-
bing two sticks together. Wrapping
himself in the skins of his slaughtered
prey, he defied the hostile blasts of
winter. And thus has man ever been
conquering nature, beasts, his own
fellows and in turn himself, until
now, in our days we see civilization
ripening into the fruitage foreshad-
owed when God planted a divine
spark within man. But the end is not
yet. Greater victories must still be
won by man. Yes, even in our ordi-
nary daily life we must lay hold on
47

Fishers of Men

this quality and exercise it to keep
from being overcome by the dangers
or evils which would else conquer us.

Simon and Andrew the fishermen
heeded Christ's words, followed Him,
became His disciples. We must of
course grant that all men are not called
to follow Christ in the way these two
were. They were called into the im-
mediate and intimate circle of Christ's
personal companionship and work, as
we might almost to-day say a minister
of the gospel is called. Still as we all
should be disciples of Christ in greater
or less degree of intimate service, we
can each profit by the suggestive in-
cidents of the text.

The call, " Follow Me," as we have
seen, meant to take Jesus as a teacher.
Each of us here realizes the need and
the importance of conforming our
lives to the wise and beneficial stand-
ard established by Christ. Our hap-
piness, usefulness and success in life
will depend upon the degree in which
48

Fishers of Men

we cultivate and acquire the virtues of
meekness, righteousness, mercy, pu-
rity, brotherly love, undoubtedly we
all have these at times, but not all the
time. Hence we must have persever-
ance to make these important qualities
permanent. For Christ said, — "If ye
continue in My word, then are ye My
disciples indeed; and ye shall know
the truth, and the truth shall make you
free." (John viii. 3ib-32.)

In the fisherman's life is there a
good illustration of this quality of
continuing, persevering, and master-
ing difficulties. It was eminently seen
in the life of the first called fishing
apostle, Simon Peter, and one such in-
cident occurs after the call described.
For it seems according to the accounts
of the Synoptists compared, that after
calling Simon and Andrew and then
the two sons of Zebedee, a throng of
people were already crowding about
Christ, eager to hear His words of
power. To be heard the better by the

49

Fishers of Men

multitude, Christ enters the boat of
Peter and is pushed off from shore.
When He had finished speaking He
said to Simon, " Launch out into the
deep, and let down your nets for a
draught." "And Simon answering
said, Master, we have toiled all the
night, and have taken nothing; never-
theless at Thy word I will let down
the nets." Then was taken that mi-
raculous draught of fishes which
seems a reward to the patiently perse-
vering Peter after his long night of
fruitless toil, and which also seems to
have been a foreshadowing of the mi-
raculous in-gathering of three thou-
sand souls at the day of Pentecost by
the down-pouring of the Holy Spirit
and under the influence of the earnest
and eloquent words of this erstwhile
fisherman.

Peter had also launched out into the
deep when to his trained eye and hu-
man knowledge there seemed no
promise of success. Yet with faith in
50

Fishers of Men

his Master he bent to the task of meet-
ing and taking the as yet unseen fish.
Cannot this thought help us, that the
unseen, unknown, the to us uncertain
future, are all known to our Lord and
Master ? All that He requires of us is,
that to become victors over the unseen
and perhaps the fear and dread of it,
we trust His all-wise providence, for
we shall "through faith inherit the
promises." (Heb. iv. 12.)

Again upon going after the unseen
Peter was taxed to the utmost of his
strength and skill to take in that mul-
titude of fish. Likewise are our full-
est efforts demanded in life. Our
conquest over ourselves, sin, and evil
is frequently a painful struggle, but it
is childish to complain for a man's
glory is to endure and from weakness
to become strong and wax valiant in
the fight. Then shall we be crowned
with the glory of victory and success
and realize as a certain writer has
said, that: "Pains are blows of the
51

Fishers of Men

hammer knocking off the rough out-
side of the geode to reaUze the beau-
teous crystals within. Troubles are
blows lifted upon the dungeon door
for giving the prisoner release. Suf-
ferings are stamp-mills crushing the
quartz that the gold may be free."
(N. D. Hillis-Foret Immort.)

Realizing the benefits which result
from this determination of character,
and endurance of afflictions, we can
appreciate the significant words of an-
other writer who says, — " How much
is missed in life through feebleness of
resolve, a lack of decision! How
many are the invertebrate souls, lack-
ing in will and void in purpose, who,
instead of piercing waves and con-
quering the flow of adverse tides, like
the medusa, can only drift, all limp
and languid, in the current of circum-
stance! Such men do not make apos-
tles; they are but ciphers of flesh and
blood, of no value by themselves, and
only of any worth as they are attached
52

Fishers of Men

to the unit of some stronger will. A
poor broken thing is a life spent in
the subjunctive mood, among the
"mights" and ''shoulds," where"!
will " waits upon "I would " ! That is
the truest, worthiest hfe that is divided
between the indicative and the imper-
ative. As in shaking pebbles the
smaller ones drop to the bottom, their
place determined by their size, so in
the shaking together of human lives,
in the rub and jostle of the world, the
strong wills invariably come to the
top." (Burton-Gosp. Luke, 167.)

Simon the obscure Galilean fisher-
man became the chief of the apostles.
He followed Christ; he learned of
Christ; he toiled by the side of Christ;
he subdued his own nature through
Christ; he caught men from death
unto life in Christ; he dwells forever
in glory with Christ.

May not we have this in part said of
us? God grant it! Yet it depends
not upon God but upon ourselves. It
53

Fishers of Men

depends upon how well we learn our
lesson from the life of Simon Peter,
the catcher of fish and the fisher of
men. His was a life given to these
lines of work. Ours is a life needing
the frequent exercise of those qualities
seen in Peter's.

At the seashore I have seen a fish-
erman stand in his boat while it was
drifting or being rowed by another,
and casting his line far into the rocky
shore pull it quickly back, trolling
through the water. Then out would
shoot his line again, and back be
drawn. Thus have I seen the fisher-
man skirting the shore, come into
sight and slowly pass into the dim
distance, ever casting and casting, but
drawing in naught except the un-
touched bait. "What a weary, mo-
notonous life! " I have thought.
"Aye, and how weary and monoto-
nous are our lives " may some of you
say.

But in the evening sit at the thresh-
54

Fishers of Men

■old of some humble fisher's cottage,
and with brightened eye will he tell of
the fish he has caught, with lowered
voice tell of the mysteries of the sea,
with swelling breast tell of the storms
he has weathered. Similarly shall we
look back in the evening of life, and
recounting the struggles, the tempta-
tions, the victories of our career, re-
joice to say in the words of St. Paul,
— " I have fought a good fight, I have
finished my course, I have kept the
faith. Henceforth there is laid up for
me a crown of righteousness, which
the Lord, the righteous judge, shall give
me at that day." (2 Tim. iv. 7, 8.)

I would not, however, defer to that
far distant day the exultation of a
righteous life. There is a present joy
amid the very weariness of the strug-
gle of a righteous life. To overcome,
sends a thrill of new life through our
veins; to be overcome, saps the last
vestige of our energy. You may have
dropped your line lazily over the side
55

Fishers of Men

of a boat in the early morn, but as the
sun mounts the heavens your foot lags
toward home, unless you are weighted
down with some catch. All day long
may you have followed the rocky
slope of the winding, dashing, splash-
ing trout stream, clambering over
slippery stones, waist deep in the
water, trying with one fly after an-
other to lure the speckled prey from
its haunts, but in the dusk your weary
homeward steps still have the spring-
ing tread of joy, if you bear a few
shining prizes of skill and untiring
effort.

Don't forget as you go forth to your
daily call of life, that you can be a
fisher of men; for many an erring soul
has been caught by a warm hand
grasp and kindly word of sympathy;
many a blackened life has risen from
the murky depths of sin at the gleam
of a bright smile and friendly encour-
agement. So neglect not the gift that
is within you.

56

Fishers of Men

Don't expect a man to be led from
sin to salvation by your first word.
As you choose your bait in fishing, so
you must choose your way of helping
each man. A piece of red flannel may
do for a crab, an angle-worm for a
sun fish, but to catch a trout you need
a carefully feathered hook, a pliant
rod and reel. The common saying is
"you catch more flies with molasses
than you can with vinegar." So in
the catching of fish and of men, be
wise, be patient, be kind. The kind-
liness of Christ need be yours lest the
sin-sore soul shrink within itself by
boorish handling. A fish cannot be
jerked from the water as soon as you
feel the pull. Jerk, and your fish will
go away with a torn mouth or with
your last hook. No! you can't be
hasty and harsh. You must play your
fish by giving him the line when he
makes a mad dash from you. Then
when the line slackens, you can pull
him toward you. As long as you
57

Fishers of Men

keep the fish on the hook, each wild
rush will but tire, while each reeling
in will be nearer the shore. Thus,
gently and patiently lead a sinner to
Christ. Despair not. Each wild dash
and relapse into sin will but tire and
disgust a man if you keep in touch
with him. While the hold which you
retain may draw him gradually nearer
the cross. Be thoughtfully sympa-
thetic and you have attracted and
hooked; be perseveringly patient and
you have played and landed a sinner
at Christ's feet. He will in mercy
bend, bless, change that life which
would have been wasted, or worse,
eternally lost. So neglect not the gift
that is within you.

You all know your own weaknesses.
Then like a fisherman beholding a
school of fish and drawing his seine
around them, do you draw the net of
Christ's purifying love and help about
your frailties, and cast them forth to
perish upon the sands of self-search-
58

Fishers of Men

ing and under the burning rays of the
Holy Spirit's power. For

" Men may rise on stepping stones

Of their dead selves to higher things."

You have all at some time in life
tasted the joy of achievement. Call
to mind the past happiness of conquer-
ing some difficulty, some infirmity,
and "Be renewed in the spirit of your
mind. And — put on the new man,
which after God is created in right-
eousness and true holiness." (Phil. iv.

23-)

The wisdom of the Proverbs de-
clares,—

"Behold the righteous shall be rec-
ompensed in the earth.

" How much more the wicked and
the sinner! (xi. 31.)

"The wicked earneth deceitful
wages.

" But he that soweth righteousness
hath a sure reward." (xi. 18.)

59

Fishers of Men

Benediction: "Now, unto Him that
is able to keep you from falling, and
present you faultless before the pres-
ence of His glory, with an exceeding
joy, to the only wise God, our Saviour,
be glory and majesty, dominion and
power, now and forever. Amen."

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