d_ He would let them see Himself
with them.

Now this added chapter of John's is _the illustration in advance_ to
these men of what these words mean. _The great standing illustration_ is
that Book of Acts which, will you notice, doesn't end. It only breaks
off, abruptly, without even a punctuation point. It wasn't meant to end.
We are supposed to be living in it yet. But these men haven't come to
the experience of the Pentecostal Acts yet. This is an illustration in
advance to them. And it remains an illustration to us of what we seem a
bit slow in taking in.

But let us get at the simple bit of story itself. There's a little
group of the inner circle, seven including the leaders. These men
haven't found their feet yet. The stupendous events of those days,
coming in such startling succession, have left them dazed. The
crucifixion left them stupidly dazed; the resurrection left them joyous,
but still dazed. They don't know just where they are, nor what to do.

So Peter proposes fishing; an ideal proposition, when you want to get
off and think things through and out. Any fisherman knows that. And the
others readily join in. They see the good sense of it. But the fish
don't catch. And the morning finds them tired in body and more tired in
the spiritless uncertainty that hangs over them like a clinging damp
fog.

Yonder is some One standing on the beach. But that's nothing unusual.
They barely notice Him. And now this Stranger calls out to them a cheery
common question, "Caught anything?" And now He gives a--no, it can
hardly be called a _command_, so quietly is it said. Yet they are subtly
conscious of a something in the word that makes them obey, though it's
the last sort of thing to do.

And now at once the net-ropes pull _so hard;_ astonishing this! Then
John's keen spirit detects _Who_ it is. Is he thinking of the other big
unexpected haul in those same waters![136] And Peter's over the side of
the boat shoreward. Fishing has lost all attraction for him.

And when they all got ashore with their haul, tired, wet, chilled to
the marrow, hungry, what's this? A blazing fire of coals burning
cheerfully on the sands. And some fish dexterously poised, doing to a
brown turn, and some bread. And the Stranger, no, _Jesus_, He's no
longer a stranger, Jesus says quietly, "Boys, better bring the haul up
on the beach."

And the old fishing habit still strong on them counts the fish. It's
such an unusual haul, they must know