Francis first received his call. You will scarcely be surprized
if I confess that I turned with a sense of heart-sick indignation
from the pomp of that splendid service in the gorgeous church to
the thought of Francis, in his worn robe, going up and down these
neighboring roads, touching the lepers, calling them "God's patients,"
pouring out his life for the poor; and I knew Christ nearer to me
on the roads that Francis trod than in that church, which is his
mausoleum rather than his monument. And as I felt that day in far-off
Umbria, so I have felt to-day in England; my heart goes out to
Catherine Booth; to Father Dolling, to these Christs of the wayside,
and it turns more and more from the kind of Christ who lives in
churches and nowhere else. My brethren, you will let me say that we do
but make the church Christ's prison when we forget that all the realm
of life is His. Oh, you good people, you do love your church, but
often think and act as tho the presence of Christ can be found nowhere
else. Lift up your eyes and see this risen Christ, a fisherman upon
the shore, busy in no loftier task than to have a meal prepared for
hungry fishermen. Unlock your church doors, let Christ go out among
common people; nay, go yourselves, for it is here that He would have
you be. Remember that wherever there is toil, there is the Christ
who toiled; and there you should be, with the kind glance, the warm
hand-grasp, and the loving warmth of brotherhood.

Christ stands amid the common things of life; where the fire is lit,
there is He; where the bread is broken, there is He; where the net of
business gain is drawn, there is He; and only as we learn to see Him
everywhere shall we understand the dignity and the divinity of human
life.

III. "And Jesus said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the
ship, and ye shall find. They cast, and now they were not able to draw
it for the multitude of fishes."

Here is another strange thing. Christ knows more about the management
of their own business than they do. They had toiled all night and
caught nothing; is not that a significant description of many human
lives? "Children, have ye any meat?" asks that quiet Voice from
the shore, and they answer "No." Is not that yet more pathetically
significant? All the heartbreak and disappointment of the world cry
aloud in that confession. Oh, I could fill an hour with the mere
recital of the names of great and famous people who have toiled
thr