'Simon, Son of Jonas, Lovest Thou Me?'
By J. M. Warwick
THE incident given in John 21, from which the above heading is taken, is as fresh and heart-stirring to-day as when it first took place, nearly two thousand years ago. The Lord of life still walks among His children, probing our hearts as He probed poor Peter's in that early morning interview on the shore of the Sea of Galilee, until we also are fain to say, "Thou knowest all things." It is usually taken for granted that Christ questioned Peter three times because of the thrice-repeated denial of the latter. That may be the right conclusion, but is not inevitably so. It comes from the supposition that Christ asked Peter the same question each time except for the addition to the first, "more than these," but that is not correct. The question was different each time. Christ simply continued to probe Peter's heart by His questionings, until He had reached the depths, and compelled His loving and enthusiastic but weak and vacillating disciple to throw himself upon the mercy of his Lord, as did the publican in the temple, the penitent thief on the cross. Christ addresses His recreant follower as "Simon," not "Peter." "Peter" means "a stone," unstable, easily moved. The man and the name had been very intimately and appropriately fitted together in the last few days preceding the conversation; but the loving Friend of sinners does not remind him of it now. He calls him Simon, "one who hears and obeys," hence a fit subject for discipleship. The very name is a rebuke to Peter, but one so gently spoken that he is only made humble, not driven away in despair. Perchance he thinks of that other Simon, him of Cyrene, who bore the cross after Christ up Calvary's slope. He knows that is where he should have been, following after his Master, and he waits to hear what Christ has to say to him for his defection. Only by a paraphrase, or by lengthy marginal notes, could the whole meaning of this beautiful story be rendered, and the translators did not choose to give us either; therefore we must go back to the Greek for ourselves. In the language of the New Testament, as in no other language of which the writer knows, there are two words for "love," both in the noun and the verb forms. One is Agape, love, benevolence; agapao, to love, to long for. The other word is philia, phileo. The first is the word used in 1 Corinthians 13, the highest, holiest love of which one can conceive, the love which endures when the object of it proves unworthy, which can suffer long and still be kind. It has very happily been termed friendship-love; but it is the love of a person who thinks more of being a friend than of having a friend, the friendship which can give and give and still give itself while it waits to love the recipient into the character which it longs to see him possess. This is the love which God gives us. The love expressed by the other word, tho not an unworthy one, has much of the earthly in its composition. It is the love which most of us have, not only for each other, but for our Lord; the love which measures itself, or is rightly measured, by the affection which it receives in return. Such love ceases when the object of it proves unworthy. The night before his Master's arrest, Peter declared, "Tho all men shall be offended because of Thee, yet will I never be offended." Matt. 26: 33; Mark 14: 29. Christ, then, in His first question, took Peter up just where Peter had placed himself, in comparison with the other disciples. "Lovest thou Me more than these?" The question is twofold. There is the comparison and the verb used. It is from Agapao. Simon, son of Jonas, have you for Me that self-sacrificing love which you claimed for yourself? and is it greater than that of My other followers? Peter arrogates to him9self no supremacy now. He humbly answers that he loves his Lord, and he does not even use the same verb which Christ uses to him. He only says, "Philo se," I love Thee. He knows now that he can not lay claim to any great and noble love, and he is willing to acknowledge it. Christ's second question omits the comparison, but retains the same verb: "Simon Ioanou, agapas Me?" Simon, is your love for Me that which can sacrifice self? Peter answers as before: "Thou knowest that I love Thee" (philo se). The third question probes deeper still: "Simon Ioanou, phileis Me?" It is the word which Peter used in his answers. Christ comes down to the position which Peter has taken for himself. Are you sure you love Me, Simon, even with this love? Search your heart and see. What can Peter say other than he did? "Lord, Thou knowest all things; Thou knowest even this, that I love Thee." A poor, ignoble love it is, but still — in spite of all, I love Thee. And he is not left comfortless. Tho he can claim but little for the love he bears his Master, and makes no promises for the future, tho he is humble, remembering the sins and weakness of the past, yet Christ still gives him something to do for Him. Because He sees that Peter will do better in the future? Perhaps, being omniscient Lord, but even more because His love for Peter is not philia, but agape, not the love which ceases when the object of it proves unworthy or fails, but that which seeks to love the unworthy back to something like the ideal held up. There would be small hope for any of us if divine love fell short of this and retrograded to human limits. Again and again in the Old Testament comes the cry, "How can I give thee up?" and in the New Testament the plain statement of a fact, "Having loved His own which were in the world, He loved them unto the end." Hosea was made a living example, and the father of the prodigal son a pictured type, of the faithfulness and patient endurance of such love. Have we yielded to this matchless love, this deathless devotion? Are we resisting it, thinking it weakness to yield? We do not call it weakness to accept great human love. We count it an honor to be the recipients of unselfish, enduring devotion. If we are willing to accept it and let it enrich our lives, are we following on after our Master, entering into the rich heritage of service He opens to us? Each of us can decide this question, for He has given us the test: "This is My commandment, That ye love one another, as I have loved you" (John 15: 12), and the kind of love He mentions is that we have been considering, the noble friendship-love of which He, the Giver, is a constant example. He gives it to us, He asks us to give it in turn to others—to love those whom we can reach, with exactly the same kind of love He has given to us and the rest of the world, unworthy tho we are. Will we refuse? Will we draw comparisons between ourselves and others, as did Peter before his fall? Or will we ask, "Lord, what wilt Thou have me to do?" and then go bravely forward, tho it lead us into peril and ignominy? As the time draws near the end, there is more imperative need of those who do not wait to count the cost or look for return of their love, but who, like their Lord, will love the lowly and the unworthy until we and they come into the unity of faith, and the Lamb’s bride is ready for the Husband who has loved her with an everlasting love, and with loving-kindness has drawn her to Himself.