And early morn already breaking, Jesus stood on the shore; the disciples however did not know that it was Jesus.
Seven tired men had fished all night and caught nothing. As the light came up, the risen Christ was standing on the beach — and not one of them knew Him.
He did not arrive at daybreak. Daybreak was only when He chose to let them see Him. Mawson dwells on what He had been doing all night:
As the red dawn chased the night-mists across the sea their Lord stood on the shore. Who can tell with what tenderness He looked upon them, hungry, weary, and dispirited as they were! He had looked upon them all through that night of toil. He had watched over them with love beyond words, for they were "His own," and the love He bore them could not change. Now the moment had come when He would show Himself to them.
He had told them where to wait for Him. Instead they went back to the trade they had left. Wolston ties their failure to recognise Him to that choice:
A little bit of self-will always blinds the eye. A little bit of taking our own way will certainly bring spiritual blindness. So will a little departure from the known will of the Lord. Why did they not know Him now? There He stood. The fact was this: He had told them to go and wait for Him. But they took their own way and went fishing instead, turning back to the old paths they had been called out of years before. They were inclined to take the road that offered itself as a temptation, instead of patiently waiting and watching for Him to appear. So when He does appear, they do not know Him.
The same blindness has a wider application. Another writer reads the moment as a standing lesson about attention:
This is surely meant to teach us that if we are occupied with our own plans and purposes, it is unlikely that we will quickly discern the actual intervention of the Lord.
Not knowing Him did not put them outside His care. He speaks first, and He speaks like family:
Their night of hard and fruitless toil must have left them tired and dispirited men. Then it was that Jesus stood on the shore. They did not know Him, but He spoke to them in familiar terms, as a father might speak to disappointed boys... They did not know this stranger who seemed so concerned for them. But His tone was gracious and He spoke with authority, so they did as He told them.
This was not the first time these men fished all night for nothing:
Peter, with his usual energy, proposes to go fishing, and six others go with him. But the result is no better than before. Some of these same disciples, with the same Peter, had tried to catch fish before his call and theirs. Even in the days of the kingdom the power must plainly be of the Lord, not of man nor of the saints themselves. Peter had to learn that lesson, and he would.
Kelly marks what is different this time. The Lord is on the shore, not in the boat — and the scene points past that morning:
Here Jesus is not aboard, and there is no putting out into the deep. With the early morning just breaking He stood on the beach. Still unknown, He put a question which brought out their admitted lack of success... It is the figure of the great haul from among the nations in the age to come. Then the salvation of all Israel will prove to be beyond measure a blessing to the Gentiles.
What He was to those seven He remains. Mawson turns the scene into a word for every troubled believer:
As He showed Himself to those men, so He remains for every one of us. Do not doubt Him, burdened and troubled believer. His eye has been upon you during your night of trial and seemingly fruitless toil. He waits to meet your need, to restore and refresh you, and to give you such evidence of His care that you will never doubt Him again. He rises long before daybreak on your behalf. If you woke hours earlier than you do, and your needs were ten thousand times greater than they are, they would still not exhaust the resources or the grace of the Lord.
- Watching. He was on the shore before the light showed Him. The whole night of toil was under His eye, and He chose the moment to show Himself.
- Blinded. They took their own way instead of waiting where He said, and it dulled their sight. Self-will leaves us slow to know the Lord when He stands in front of us.
- Speaking. They did not know Him, yet He spoke first, like a father to disappointed boys. His care did not wait for them to recognise Him.
- Emptied. The barren net repeated an old lesson: the power must plainly be the Lord's, not the disciples'.
- Filled. At His word the net fills — a sign pointing beyond the lake to the nations. And the same eye still watches every believer's night of fruitless toil.
Jesus therefore says to them, Children, have ye anything to eat? They answered him, No.
The disciples have fished all night and caught nothing. At daybreak a stranger calls to them from the shore. His question is short and ordinary, yet it forces an admission out of them, and everything that follows in the chapter grows out of that.
Before He says anything about fish, He gives them a name. One writer hears warmth in it, not rebuke:
His voice sounded over the water. "Children." It was a term of endearment, such as He might have used to a band of irresponsible lads.
Commentators differ on how much weight the word carries. Some read it as ordinary speech, the kind of greeting anyone might call across water to a working crew:
"Children [or lads, using a common term applied to men at work] do you have any fish [or better, anything to eat]?" Such a question would doubtless not sound strange.
The way He frames the question already leans toward the answer:
In the Greek Testament the word the Lord used is not "Children." It is the smaller, softer form of that word, paidia — or, as we would say, "Little children." But I do not think He was thinking of their age or size. I think that little word came from the Lord's loving concern for them. They had faced a long, discouraging night of failure, and now they had no breakfast. The very form of His question, as recorded in Greek, shows that He knew the answer must be "No!" Then the same love that asks the question in that form tells them what to do.
He does not scold them for the wasted night. The question does the work instead:
The disciples had gone back to the old life, but the Lord, far from rebuking them, speaks to them with tender affection. He calls them "children." Still, He shows how useless their work is without His direction. He asks, "Do you have any fish?" Have they gained anything by their labour in the dark? They have to admit that they have nothing.
They take Him for a hungry stranger asking for food. That misunderstanding turns out to be the point:
Doubtless they thought that this stranger, whom they had not yet recognised, was in need of food. But the question forced them to admit that until now all their labour had given nothing to Christ. Then came the words, "Cast the net." It was as if He said to them, "If you would give Me something, you must receive it from Me." From that moment John, the disciple whom Jesus loved, could no longer be mistaken. To him the Lord was One who gave, and to whom nothing was given.
Their reply is a single syllable. One writer treats that flatness as a symptom worth noticing:
This question shows beautiful courtesy and deep interest in them... but their reply throws His courteous words into sharper contrast. "They answered him, No." A cold, bare "No." Could anything be coarser? "But," you say, "they did not know Him." That is the sad consideration for us. When we are away from Christ the real state of our hearts comes out, and often through our lips. They do not say "No, Lord," nor even "No, sir," but a bare "No."
The One asking whether they had food had food waiting. The question was never about His need:
He knew all about the darkness and the toil and the empty net, and there He was on the shore to kindle a fire and prepare a dinner for them. Yes, the same Jesus who had died on the cross to put away their sins now stood on the shore. He was there to restore them from their wanderings, gather them round Himself, and meet all their need. "Do you have any fish?" brought out how fruitless their night's toil had been. "Come and have breakfast" showed the tender, thoughtful, all-providing love of the risen Saviour.
- Nothing caught. A night of skilled effort without His direction ends with an empty net — the toil is real, the result is nothing.
- Nothing hidden. The very form of His question shows He already knew the answer would be "No"; He asks so that they will say it out loud.
- Nothing given. They had nothing to hand Him. Whatever they would give Him, they first had to receive from Him.
- Nothing rebuked. He does not scold. He calls them "children" — a word of affection, though some read it as no more than a greeting to men at work.
- Nothing lacking. The One who asked about food had already lit a fire and prepared a meal; the empty net was the doorway to "Come and have breakfast."
And he said to them, Cast the net at the right side of the ship and ye will find. They cast therefore, and they could no longer draw it, from the multitude of fishes.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
That disciple therefore whom Jesus loved says to Peter, It is the Lord. Simon Peter therefore, having heard that it was the Lord, girded his overcoat [on him] (for he was naked), and cast himself into the sea;
Dawn breaks on the lake after a night of empty nets, and a word from the shore fills them. One disciple sees who is standing there; the other jumps.
Nothing in the scene names the man on the beach. John knew Him because the same thing had happened before, on the same water, to the same men.
Years before, on the same spot, some of these men had gone through the same experience. They toiled all night and caught nothing. Then, when Jesus told them to, they let down the net and caught so many fish that the net broke. No doubt it was the memory of this that led John, quick to perceive, to say to Peter, "It is the Lord." Of course it was! Who else could it be?
Yet the others watched the same catch and said nothing. One writer points out that even John had seen nothing until that moment, and gives the reason.
That man, so quick to learn as a rule, had until this moment his eye blinded like the rest. Even a very spiritual believer will lose his spirituality and his keen perception of the truth, if he lets himself be dragged into ways that do not suit the mind of the Lord.
John speaks; Peter moves. The verse sets the two side by side without preferring either.
Here we see the characteristic difference between the apostles John and Peter. John knew the heart of Jesus more deeply. He is the man who can describe himself as "that disciple whom Jesus loved." He perceives it is the Lord. Peter, with his characteristic energy, casts himself into the sea to reach the Lord. Spiritual perception marks one disciple; promptness in action the other. Both are right, and both are needed in their time and season.
Another writer puts the difference in what each man's heart was full of.
John, like Mary Magdalene, was taken up with the person and the love of Christ. So he was quick to recognise Jesus, and did not need someone to tell him, "It is the Lord." John is satisfied to be the object of Jesus' love.
Peter had failed his Master badly not long before. What he does when he hears that his Master is near shows where he now stands.
He did not say to John or to the others, "You know how shamefully I have fallen. You go first and meet the blessed One, and I will follow." Instead he flings himself boldly into the sea. It is as much as to say, "I must be the very first to get to my risen Saviour. Nobody has such a claim on Him as poor, stumbling, failing Peter."
The change in Peter shows in what he no longer waits for.
He had once, when called, stepped out on the water to meet the Lord. This time he does not wait for an invitation. He seems to say, "I know He would like to have me near Him." And in a minute he is near the Lord. If he had not been right in his conscience as well as in his affections, he would have kept away a little.
The ESV says Peter was "stripped for work." Older translations say "naked," and one writer explains the word.
"Naked" does not have to mean completely bare. It means not properly dressed — perhaps wearing only an undergarment.
Peter hurried, but he did not arrive careless.
Peter, prompt as always, is the first to act so as to reach His presence — yet not naked, but properly dressed. He had failed badly, deeply and more than once. Yet his faith had not failed, just as the Saviour had prayed for him that it should not. Despair over the worst failure is no more of faith than indifference that does not hear the Saviour's voice.
Peter left the boat and the full net behind. One writer argues that this is what made him useful to the others.
Was not the boat worth more in itself than any catch of fish, however large? Peter springs out of it without the slightest hesitation. He pauses only to dress properly for the occasion. He has left everything for Christ. So he has the privilege of being the first disciple to reach the Lord, and of helping his brothers more than he could have done by staying with them. Do not those who come straight from the Lord's presence to help others always prove the best helpers of their toiling brothers?
- Recognition. John knew the man on the shore because he had seen the Lord do this before. Remembering past grace is what makes His present work recognisable.
- Occupation. The sharpest eye belonged to the man taken up with Christ's love for him. Ways that do not suit the Lord dull that sight.
- Nearness. Hearing "It is the Lord," Peter waits for no invitation. The man who once needed a call now knows he is wanted.
- Evidence. The plunge proves a conscience already cleared. Guilt hides; forgiveness swims.
- Cost. He left boat, net and catch behind and reached the shore first. The one who comes straight from the Lord's presence is the best help to those still toiling.