Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1281
“Simon, son of Jonas, do you love Me?” John 21:16.
This is a very short and simple text and some would think it very easy to say all that can be said upon it, but, indeed, it is a very large text and too full of meaning for me to attempt to expound it all. The words are few, but the thoughts suggested are very many There are subtle meanings, too, in the original Greek well worth considering, and allusions which deserve to be followed out. I intend, at this time, to confine myself to one point, and to ask your consideration of one thought only. May the Spirit of God prepare our hearts for our meditation and impress the Truth of God upon them. My one point is this—our Lord asked Peter whether he had a love to His Person. The inquiry is not concerning his love to the kingdom of God, or the people of God—it begins and ends with his love to the Son of God.
“Simon, son of Jonas, do you love Me?” He does not say, “Do you now perceive the prudence of My warnings when I bade you watch and pray? Simon, son of Jonas, will you, from now on, cease from your self-confidence and take heed to My admonitions?” It is not even, “Do you now believe My doctrines? Do you now trust in One whom, the other day, you denied?” Neither is it asked, “Are you pleased with My precepts? Are you a believer in My claims? Will you still confess Me to be the Son of the Highest?” No, these matters are not brought under question, but the one inquiry is, “Do you love Me? Have you a personal attachment for Me, to My very Self?”
He calls him by his old, unconverted name, Simon, son of Jonas, to remind him of what Grace had done for him and then He asks only about his love. The question deals with personal attachment to a personal Christ—and that is my sole subject. Observe that our ever wise and tender Savior questioned Peter about his love in plain terms. There was no beating about the bush. He went at once to the point, for it is not a matter about which ambiguity and doubt can be endured. As the physician feels his patient’s pulse to judge his heart, so the Lord Jesus tested, at once, the pulse of Peter’s soul. He did not say, “Simon, son of Jonas, do you repent of your folly?” Repentance is a very blessed Grace and very necessary, but it was wiser to look, at once, to Peter’s love, because it is quite certain that if a disciple loves his master he will deeply grieve for ever having denied him.
The Lord does not even ask His follower about his faith which might well have been put under question, for he had with oaths said, “I know not the Man.” It would have been a highly important question, but it was answered when Peter avowed his love, for he who loves, believes, and no man can love a Savior in whom he does not believe. The Lord left every other point out of His question, or perhaps I ought, rather, to say concentrated every other point into this one in-quiry—“Do you love Me?” Learn from this fact that one thing is necessary—love to Jesus is the chief, the vital point to look to.
This question the Lord asked three times, as if to show that it is of the first, of the second and of the third importance—as if it comprised all else and, therefore, He would again and again and again insist upon it—as orators dwell with repetitions and emphatic sentences upon topics which they would urge home upon their hearers. This nail was meant to be well fastened, for it is struck on the head with blow after blow. With unvarying tone and look, the Lord enquired, “Simon, son of Jonas, do you love Me?” It shows what weight our Savior attached to the matter of his love, that He asked him about that, about that only and about that three times over.
When you are examining yourselves, look mainly to your hearts and make thorough inquisition into your love. Is Jesus really loved by you? Have you a deep attachment to His Person? Whatever else you trifle with, be earnest here! Remember that the Lord Jesus, Himself, asked the question and He asked it until He grieved Peter. So long as he was but recognized as a disciple, Peter must have felt ready to receive the severest possible rebuke and think himself gently treated. Therefore it was not easy to grieve him. Our Lord was slow at all times to cause pain to any true heart, yet on
this occasion, for wise reasons, He reiterated His inquiry till He touched Peter’s unhealed wounds and made them smart. Had he not made his Master’s heart bleed? And was it not fit that he should feel heart-wounds himself? A threefold denial demanded a threefold confession—and the grief he had caused was fitly brought to his memory by the grief he felt.
Now, this morning, if I press this question until I grieve some of you, till I grieve myself, also, I shall not be censurable for having done so. To comfort you would be a good work, but sometimes it may be better to grieve you. Not always is sweet food the best thing we can bring you—bitter medicine is sometimes more important. I shall not have pushed the question beyond its legitimate sphere if I should so present it as to stir your hearts even to anguish! True love has more or less of pain about it. Only the mere pretender passes through the world without anxious inquiry and heart-searching. Better far that you should be grieved today and be found right at last, than that you should presumptuously feel yourselves secure and be deceived in the end!