John 21:4

Joh_21:4

But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore

The risen Saviour on the shore

Note

I.

THE RELATIONSHIP OF THE RISEN SAVIOUR TO HIS PEOPLE. And we see at once that

1. That is the same as before. Jesus miraculously supplying their food, calling them to eat with Him--that is what He had been doing ever since they had known Him. Death had not altered what was essentially Himself. Our friends on the other side of death are the same as before! What a revelation to those who now think they are uncared for! Let them read what He was to His servants before He died, and remember that tie is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.

2. It is continued with greater power. Jesus was on the shore; not in the boat, as in the former miracle. For Him the tossings of life were over, I am no more in the world, but these are in the world, and I come to Thee.

Wonderful power was His before; by miraculous energy, and wisdom, He cared for and protected them, but whatever He had then, He had more when all power was given unto Him in heaven and on earth. It was indeed much to have Him with them in the dripping, heaving boat, but it is more, whilst we are in the boat, to have Jesus for us on the shore.

3. In fulfilling this relationship the risen Saviour may be recognized by His people. It is possible to go through life ever seeing Jesus on the shore or knowing that He is invisibly there. But the opposite is possible. The disciples knew not that it was Jesus. Even when the meshes strained with the fishes enclosed at His bidding, only one of them was quick to detect the stranger. The state is to be watched against; it is great impoverishment. No doubt He adopts disguises still, coming to help us through human speech and effort, but to a heart trained to sympathy with Christ, the living Saviour is seen within the disguise. We cannot estimate the joy and strength which would fill our life, if in our cares and toils we had the assurance that He is near.

II. THE INFLUENCE OF THE RISEN SAVIOUR ON THE WORK OF HIS PEOPLE. We mostly think of other aspects of our Lords resurrection life. Its bearing, for instance, on the Atonement as proof of the Fathers acceptance of it, and of the consequent acquittal of those whom He represents; or its bearing on His mediatorial work, admitting Him to that state in which He ever liveth to make intercession for us, securing the permanency of the salvation He bestows. But there is another aspect. Life is much like that Sea of Galilee, sometimes dark and turbulent, sometimes bright with the quiet reflection of heaven; now rewarding us with success, and now mocking us with disappointment; the seven disciples were but symbols of each of us, we are all toilers on the sea, but in our case, as in theirs, Jesus is watching, guiding, helping the toilers. It remains to recognize this to be blessed.

1. His interest in our work is its sanctification. What does Christ upon the throne mean but that what transpires in our lives is His appointment? It may be arduous, common, unrecognized, but it comes within the rule that the Master gives to every man his work. So Christ, then, takes the deepest interest in the home cares of the mother, the lessons of the child, the toll of the bread-winner, the duties of the servant, the burdens of the sufferer. Whether our net be full or empty is nothing to the world, but it is much to Him.

2. His guidance of our work is essential to success. What is Christ King for but to guide us, so that there is nothing we ought to do but we may say, Lord, show us how to do it! But we do not unreservedly follow His guidance, nor believe that He understands our business better than we do, and that only He knows the road to success. What knows He about the right side of the ship? He is no fisherman, is He aware that we were born by this lake, and have fished its waters for twenty years, what can He teach us? But they cast, and now they were not able to draw, &c. Only that work will prosper which is guided by the risen Saviour from the shore.

3. His blessing on our work makes it a constant means of grace. That blessing is most manifest where anxiety comes in. If those disciples had filled their boat that night, they would not have known the Divine power of the Stranger on the beach, and might have passed Him by. We have tried to succeed, we say, but can only look for failure; then sudden success has come, and we could only exclaim, It is the Lord! We have much to do and bear, we say that we shall sink beneath it; but a secret power has upheld us (for all there were so many, yet was not the net broken), we have borne and done it all; then we could only say in wonder, This must be one of Christs miracles; it is the Lord! It is a great blessing when thus the tasks of life are an opportunity of discovering the nearness, the faithfulness, the tenderness of Christ.

III. THE COMMUNION OF THE RISEN SAVIOUR IN THE WEARINESS OF HIS PEOPLE. For He was not there merely to watch and help, but also to give them rest. Come and dine. Our weariness may be removed by the supply which He provides. Busy people, after a day when things have gone wrong and their spirit is vexed, feel like those disciples. But on the beach yonder--the beach of the quiet seclusion of their closet--Jesus is standing then,and He has a hidden fire and fish laid thereon and bread. (C. New.)

The Biblical Illustrator, edited by Joseph S. Exell (c. 1880s–1900s) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

John

THE BEACH AND THE SEA

Joh 21:4.

The incident recorded in this appendix to John’s Gospel is separated from the other appearances of our risen Lord in respect of place, time, and purpose. They all occurred in and about Jerusalem; this took place in Galilee. The bulk of them happened on the day of the Resurrection, one of them a week after. This, of course, to allow time for the journey, must have been at a considerably later date. Their object was, mainly, to establish the reality of the Resurrection, the identity of Christ’s physical body, and to confirm the faith of the disciples therein. Here, these purposes retreat into the background; the object of this incident is to reveal the permanent relations between the risen Lord and His struggling Church.

The narrative is rich in details which might profitably occupy us, but the whole may be gathered up in two general points of view in considering the revelation which we have here in the participation of Christ in His servants’ work, and also the revelation which we have in the preparation by Christ of a meal for His toiling servants. We take this whole narrative thus regarded as our subject on this Easter morning.

I. First we have here a revelation of the permanent relation of Jesus Christ to His Church and to the individuals who compose it, in this, that the risen Lord on the shore shares in the toil of His servants on the restless sea.

The little group of whom we read in this narrative reminds us of the other group of the first disciples in the first chapter of this Gospel. Four out of the five persons named in our text appear there: Simon Peter, Nathanael of Cana in Galilee, and the sons of Zebedee, James and John. And a very natural inference is that the ‘two others’ unnamed here are the two others of that chapter, viz. Andrew and Philip. If so, we have at the end, the original little group gathered together again; with the addition of the doubting Thomas.

Be that as it may, there they are on the shore of the sea, and Peter characteristically takes the lead and suggests a course that they all accept: ‘I go a fishing.’ ‘We also go with thee.’

Now we must not read that as if it meant: ‘It is all over! Our hopes are vain! We dreamed that we were going to be princes in the Messiah’s Kingdom, we have woke up to find that we are only fishermen. Let us go back to our nets and our boats!’ No! all these men had seen the risen Lord, and had received from His breath the gift of the Holy Spirit. They had all gone from Jerusalem to Galilee, in obedience to His command, and were now waiting for His promised appearance. Very noble and beautiful is the calm patience with which they fill the time of expectation with doing common and long-abandoned tasks. They go back to the nets and the boats long since forsaken at the Master’s bidding. That is not like fanatics. That is not like people who would be liable to the excesses of excitement that would lead to the ‘hallucination,’ which is the modern explanation of the resurrection faith, on the part of the disciples.

And it is a precious lesson for us, dear brethren! that whatever may be our memories, and whatever may be our hopes, the very wisest thing we can do is to stick to the common drudgery, and even to go back to abandoned tasks. It stills the pulses. ‘Study to be quiet; and to do our own business’ is the best remedy for all excitement, whether it be of sorrow or of hope. And not seldom to us, if we will learn and practise that lesson, as to these poor men in the tossing fisherman’s boat, the accustomed and daily duties will be the channel through which the presence of the Master will be manifested to us.

So they go, and there follow the incidents which I need not repeat, because we all know them well enough. Only I wish to mark the distinct allusion throughout the whole narrative to the earlier story of the first miraculous draught of fishes which was connected with their call to the Apostleship, and was there by Christ declared to have a symbolical meaning. The correspondences and the contrasts are obvious. The scene is the same; the same green mountains look down upon the same blue waters. It was the same people that were concerned. They were, probably enough, in the same fishing-boat. In both there had been a night of fruitless toil; in both there was the command to let down the net once more; in both obedience was followed by instantaneous and large success.

So much for the likenesses; the contrasts are these. In the one case the Master is in the boat with them, in the other He is on the shore; in the one the net is breaking; in the other, ‘though there were so many, yet did it not break.’ In the one Peter, smitten by a sense of his own sinfulness, says, ‘Depart from me, for I am a sinful man, O Lord!’ In the other, Peter, with a deeper knowledge of his own sinfulness, but also with the sweet knowledge of forgiveness, casts himself into the sea, and flounders through the shallows to reach the Lord. The one is followed by the call to higher duty and to the abandonment of possessions; the other is followed by rest and the mysterious meal on the shore.

That is to say, whilst both of the stories point the lesson of service to the Master, the one of them exhibits the principles of service to Him whilst He was still with them, and the other exhibits the principles of service to Him when He is removed from struggling and toiling on the billows to the calm of the peaceful shore in the morning light.

So we may take that night of toil as full of meaning. Think of them as the darkness fell, and the solemn bulk of the girdling hills lay blacker upon the waters, and the Syrian sky was mirrored with all its stars sparkling in the still lake. All the night long cast after cast was made, and time after time the net was drawn in and nothing in it but tangle and mud. And when the first streak of the morning breaks pale over the Eastern hills they are still so absorbed in their tasks that they do not recognise the voice that hails them from the nearer shore: ‘Lads, have ye any meat?’ And they answer it with a half surly and wholly disappointed monosyllabic ‘No!’ It is an emblem for us all; weary and wet, tugging at the oar in the dark, and often seeming to fail. What then? If the last cast has brought nothing, try another. Out with the nets once more! Never mind the darkness, and the cold, and the wetting spray, and the weariness. You cannot expect to be as comfortable in a fishing-boat as in your drawing-room. You cannot expect that your nets will be always full. Failure and disappointment mingle in the most successful lives. Christian work has often to be done with no results at all apparent to the doer, but be sure of this, that they who learn and practise the homely, wholesome virtue of persistent adherence to the task that God sets them, will catch some gleams of a Presence most real and most blessed, and before they die will know that ‘their labour has not been in vain in the Lord.’ ‘They that sow in tears shall reap in joy.’

And so, finally, about this first part of my subject, there stands out before us here the blessed picture of the Lord Himself, the Risen Lord, with the halo of death and resurrection round about Him; there, on the firm beach, in the increasing light of the morning, interested in, caring about, directing and crowning with His own blessing, the obedient work of His servants.

The simple prose fact of the story, in its plain meaning, is more precious than any ‘spiritualising’ of it. Take the fact. Jesus Christ, fresh from the grave, who had been down into those dark regions of mystery where the dead sleep and wait, and had come back into this world, and was on the eve of ascending to the Father-this Christ, the possessor of such experience, takes an interest in seven poor men’s fishing, and cares to know whether their ragged old net is full or is empty. There never was a more sublime and wonderful binding together of the loftiest and the lowliest than in that question in the mouth of the Risen Lord. If men had been going to dream about what would be fitting language for a risen Saviour, if we had to do here with a legend, and not with a piece of plain, prosaic fact, do you think that the imagination would ever have entered the mind of the legend-maker to put such a question as that into such lips at such a time? ‘Lads, have ye any meat?’

It teaches us that anything that interests us is not without interest to Christ. Anything that is big enough to occupy our thoughts and our efforts is large enough to be taken into His. All our ignoble toils, and all our petty anxieties, touch a chord that vibrates in that deep and tender heart. Though other sympathy may be unable to come down to the minutenesses of our little lives, and to wind itself into the narrow room in which our histories are prisoned, Christ’s sympathy can steal into the narrowest cranny. The risen Lord is interested in our poor fishing and our disappointments.

And not only that, here is a promise for us, a prophecy for us, of certain guidance and direction, if only we will come to Him and acknowledge our dependence upon Him. The question that was put to them, ‘Lads, have ye any meat?’ was meant to evoke the answer, ‘No!’ The consciousness of my failure is the pre-requisite to my appeal to Him to prosper my work. And just as before He would, on the other margin of that same shore, multiply the loaves and the fishes, He put to them the question, ‘How many have ye?’ that they might know clearly the inadequacy of their own resources for the hungry crowd, so here, in order to prepare their hearts for the reception of His guidance and His blessing, He provides that they be brought to catalogue and confess their failures. So He does with us all, beats the self-confidence out of us, blessed be His name! and makes us know ourselves to be empty in order that He may pour Himself into us, and flood us with the joy of His presence.

Then comes the guidance given. We may be sure that it is given to us all to-day, if we wait upon Him and ask Him. ‘Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find.’ His command is followed by swift, unanswering, unquestioning obedience, which in its turn is immediately succeeded by the large blessing which the Master then gave on the instant, which He gives still, though often, in equal love and unquestioned wisdom, it comes long after faith has discerned His presence and obedience has bowed to His command.

It may be that we shall not see the results of our toil till the morning dawns and the great net is drawn to land by angel hands. But we may be sure that while we are toiling on the tossing sea, He watches from the shore, is interested in all our weary efforts, will guide us if we own to Him our weakness, and will give us to see at last issues greater than we had dared to hope from our poor service. The dying martyr looked up and saw Him ‘standing at the right hand of God,’ in the attitude of interested watchfulness and ready help. This Easter morning bids us lift our eyes to a risen Lord who ‘has not left us to serve alone,’ nor gone up on high, like some careless general to a safe height, while his forsaken soldiers have to stand the shock of onset without him. From this height He bends down and ‘covers our heads in the day of battle.’ ‘He was received up,’ says the Evangelist, ‘and sat on the right hand of God, and they went forth and preached everywhere.’ Strange contrast between His throned rest and their wandering toils for Him! But the contrast gives place to a deeper identity of work and condition, as the Gospel goes on to say, ‘The Lord also working with them and confirming the word with signs following.’

Though we be on the tossing sea and He on the quiet shore, between us there is a true union and communion, His heart is with us, if our hearts be with Him, and from Him will pass over all strength, grace, and blessing to us, if only we know His presence, and owning our weakness, obey His command and expect His blessing.

II. Look at the other half of this incident before us.

I pass over the episode of the recognition of Jesus by John, and of Peter struggling to His feet, interesting as it is, in order to fix upon the central thought of the second part of the narrative, viz. the risen Lord on the shore, in the increasing light of the morning, ‘preparing a table’ for His toiling servants. That ‘fire of coals’ and the simple refreshment that was being dressed upon it had been prepared there by Christ’s own hand. We are not told that there was anything miraculous about it. He had gathered the charcoal; He had procured the fish; He had dressed it and prepared it. They are bidden to ‘bring of the fish they had caught’; He accepts their service, and adds the result of their toil, as it would seem, to the provision which His own hand has prepared. He summons them to a meal, not the midday repast, for it was still early morning. They seat themselves, smitten by a great awe. The meal goes on in silence. No word is spoken on either side. Their hearts know Him. He waits on them, making Himself their Servant as well as their Host. He ‘taketh bread and giveth them and fish likewise,’ as He had done in the miracles by the same shore and on that sad night in the upper room that seemed so far away now, and in the roadside inn at Emmaus, when something in His manner or action disclosed Him to the wondering two at the table.

Now what does all that teach us? Two things; and first-neglecting for a moment the difference between shore and sea-here we have the fact of Christ’s providing, even by doing menial offices, for His servants.

These seven men were wet and weary, cold and hungry. The first thing they wanted when they came out of the fishing-boat was their breakfast. If they had been at home, their wives and children would have got it ready for them. Jesus had a great deal to say to them that day, a great deal to teach them, much to do for them, and for the whole world, by the words that followed; but the first thing that He thinks about is to feed them. And so, cherishing no overstrained contempt for material necessities and temporal mercies, let us remember that it is His hand that feeds us still, and let us be glad to think that this Christ, risen from the dead and with His heart full of the large blessings that He was going to bestow, yet paused to consider: ‘They are coming on shore after a night’s hard toil, they will be faint and weary; let Me feed their bodies before I begin to deal with their hearts and spirits.’

And He will take care of you, brother! and of us all. The ‘bread will be given’ us, at any rate, and ‘the water made sure.’ It was a modest meal that He with His infinite resources thought enough for toiling fishermen. ‘One fish,’ as the original shows us, ‘one loaf of bread.’ No more! He could as easily have spread a sumptuous table for them. There is no covenant for superfluities, necessaries will be given. Let us bring down our wishes to His gifts and promises, and recognise the fact that ‘he who needs least is the nearest the gods,’ and he that needs least is surest of getting from Christ what he needs.

But then, besides that, the supply of all other deeper and loftier necessities is here guaranteed. The symbolism of our text divides, necessarily, the two things which in fact are not divided. It is not all toiling on the restless sea here, any more than it is all rest and fruition yonder; but all that your spirit needs, for wisdom, patience, heroism, righteousness, growth, Christ will give you in your work; and that is better than giving it to you after your work, and the very work which is blessed by Him, and furthered and prospered by Him, the very work itself will come to be moat and nourishment. ‘Out of the eater will come forth meat,’ and the slain ‘lions’ of past struggles and sorrows, the next time we come to them, will be ‘full of honey.’

Finally, there is a great symbolical prophecy here if we emphasise the distinction between the night and the morning, between the shore and the sea. We can scarcely fail to catch this meaning in the incident which sets forth the old blessed assurance that the risen Lord is preparing a feast on the shore while His servants are toiling on the darkling sea.

All the details, such as the solid shore in contrast with the changeful sea, the increasing morning in contrast with the toilsome night, the feast prepared, have been from of old consecrated to shadow forth the differences between earth and heaven. It would be blindness not to see here a prophecy of the glad hour when Christ shall welcome to their stable home, amid the brightness of unsetting day, the souls that have served Him amidst the fluctuations and storms of life, and seen Him in its darkness, and shall satisfy all their desires with the ‘bread of heaven.’

Our poor work which He deigns to accept forms part of the feast which is spread at the end of our toil, when ‘there shall be no more sea.’ He adds the results of our toil to the feast which He has prepared. The consequences of what we have done here on earth make no small part of the blessedness of heaven.

‘Their works and alms and all their good endeavour Stayed not behind, nor in the grave were trod.’

The souls which a Paul or a John has won for the Master, in their vocation as ‘fishers of men,’ are their ‘hope and joy and crown of rejoicing, in the presence of our Lord Jesus.’ The great benediction which the Spirit bade the Apocalyptic seer write over ‘the dead which die in the Lord,’ is anticipated in both its parts by this mysterious meal on the beach. ‘They rest from their labours’ inasmuch as they find the food prepared for them, and sit down to partake; ‘Their works do follow them’ inasmuch as they ‘bring of the fish which they have caught.’

Finally, Christ Himself waits on them, therein fulfilling in symbol what He has told us in great words that dimly shadow wonders unintelligible until experienced: ‘Verily I say unto you, He shall gird Himself, and make them to sit down to meat, and will come forth, and serve them.’

So here is a vision to cheer us all. Life must be full of toil and of failure. We are on the midnight sea, and have to tug, weary and wet, at a heavy oar, and to haul an often empty net. But we do not labour alone. He comes to us across the storm, and is with us in the night, a most real, because unseen Presence. If we accept the guidance of His directing word, His indwelling Spirit, and His all-sufficient example, and seek to ascertain His will in outward Providences, we shall not be left to waste our strength in blunders, nor shall our labour be in vain. In the morning light we shall see Him standing serene on the steadfast shore. The ‘Pilot of the Galilean lake’ will guide our frail boat through the wild surf that marks the breaking of the sea of life on the shore of eternity; and when the sun rises over the Eastern hills we shall land on the solid beach, bringing our ‘few small fishes’ with us, which He will accept. And there we shall rest, nor need to ask who He is that serves us, for we shall know that ‘It is the Lord!’

Alexander MacLaren, Expositions of Holy Scripture (1904–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

21:4 Jesus was standing on the beach, but the men did not recognize him (cp. 20:11-16; Luke 24:13-53).

Tyndale Open Study Notes — © Tyndale Open Resources, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Joh 21:4. Πρωΐας, the morning) when they had been toiling for a considerable length of time.

Bengel's Gnomon of the New Testament — English translation (T&T Clark, Edinburgh, 1860) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Joh 21:4 . πρωΐας δὲ ἤδη γενομένης , “but early morning having now arrived,” i.e. , when all hope of catching fish was past, ἔστη ὁ Ἰησοῦς εἰς [or ἐπὶ ] τὸν αἰγιαλόν , “Jesus stood upon the beach”; for ἔστη , cf. Joh 20:19 ; Joh 20:26 . It seems to indicate the suddenness of the appearance, οὐ μέντοι … ἐστί , “the disciples, however, were not aware that it was Jesus”.

The Expositor's Greek Testament, edited by W. Robertson Nicoll (1897–1910) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Jesus stood--(Compare Joh 20:19, Joh 20:26).

but the disciples knew not it was Jesus--Perhaps there had been some considerable interval since the last manifestation, and having agreed to betake themselves to their secular employment, they would be unprepared to expect Him.

Jamieson, Fausset & Brown — Commentary Critical and Explanatory on the Whole Bible (1871) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

Verse 4. Knew not that it was Jesus.] Probably because it was either not light enough, or he was at too great a distance, or he had assumed another form, as in Mr 16:12; otherwise his person was so remarkable that all his disciples readily knew him when he was at hand: see Joh 21:12.

Adam Clarke's Commentary on the Bible (1810–1826) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

(4) Jesus stood on the shore.—Comp. Joh_20:19; Joh_20:26. The words express the sudden appearance without any indication of His coming. He was then standing in the midst, or on the shore, but no one knew whence or how.

The disciples knew not that it was Jesus.—Comp. Joh_20:14.

A Bible Commentary for English Readers, edited by Charles John Ellicott (1878–1897) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

4. morning was now come] The better reading gives, dawn was now breaking.

stood on the shore] Literally, stood on to the beach, i.e. He came and stood on the beach.

but] Nevertheless, or howbeit (mentoi, a particle rare in N.T. outside this Gospel); implying that this was surprising. Comp. Joh_4:27, Joh_7:13, Joh_12:42, Joh_20:5.

knew not] See on Joh_20:14.

The Cambridge Bible for Schools and Colleges (gen. ed. J. J. S. Perowne; Cambridge University Press, 1878–1918) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

But when the morning was now come,.... The day began to dawn, and light to appear, very early in the morning; for Christ visits his right early, and is a present help to them in their time of trouble.

Jesus stood on the shore: on firm ground, whilst his disciples were beating about in the waves, and toiling to no purpose. So Christ, risen from the dead, is glorified, is in heaven; but not unmindful of his people amidst all their afflictions in this world:

but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus; though he was so near them that they could hear what he said; but it not being broad daylight they could not distinctly discern him, or their eyes might be held that they could not know him. So Christ is sometimes near his people, and they know it not.

John Gill's Exposition of the Whole Bible (1746–1763) — public domain (CC PDM 1.0). Text via the HelloAO Bible API.

4 But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore: but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus.

Ver. 4. But when the morning] Mourning lasteth but till morning, Psa 30:5. Flebile principium melior fortuna sequetur, Poor beginnings come before better fortune, said Queen Elizabeth, when she was to be sent to the Tower.

John Trapp, A Commentary or Exposition upon All the Books of the Old and New Testament (1647–1656) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Knew not that it was Jesus - Probably it was yet twilight, and in the distance they could not distinctly recognize him.

Albert Barnes' Notes on the Bible (1834–1885) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

Probably their distance from him was the cause that they did not know him, though they had seen him once and again since his resurrection from the dead: others think, that by the providence of God their eyes were holden that they should not know him, as Luk 24:16.

Matthew Poole's English Annotations on the Holy Bible (1683–1685) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.

4. Knew not that it was Jesus—The distance and the dimness of the morning light might account for their not knowing him. But still the narrative intimates that our Lord maintained a supernatural reserve, so that his apostles could scarce discern his identity. So, while his ministry and Church are here on this sea of life, he ever stands on yonder high shore of immortality, earnestly watching them, though but dimly recognized by them.

Daniel D. Whedon (gen. ed.), Commentary on the Old and New Testaments (1874–1909) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

When the day was now breaking, Jesus stood on the beach. If the eiv be the true reading, it would imply that he stood forth, as having come from some unperceived region. If the epi remain, the idea is that the morning light, as it was breaking over them through the curtain of dense mist which hung before sunrise on the eastern hills, discovered Jesus standing upon the beach. There is obvious reference, in the manner of his approach, to that "standing" in the midst of them, with which they had become familiar. (see Joh_20:14, Joh_20:19, Joh_20:26) Howbeit (mentoi suggests something unusual, Joh_4:27 Joh_12:42) the disciples knew not that it was Jesus. He is not walking on the waters as of old, but standing on the solid ground. Just as Mary of Magdala, and as the disciples on the way to Emmaus, and as even the disciples themselves on the Easter night, were in doubt, at first, who and what this manifestation might mean, so now the chosen seven fail to understand that which was before their very eyes. The morning mist and shadows adding to the obscurity produced by some hundred yards of distance, together with wearied and toilsome effort and a sleepless night, may suggest some explanation of the marvel; but the mystery is baffling. Two or three remarks may be made.

(1) These various appearances seem at first to confuse their perceptions by reason of the ordinary human characteristics that accompanied them. Mary for a moment mistook him for the owner or worker in the garden; the "two disciples" imagined that he was "a stranger in Jerusalem;" and these disciples think him, for the moment, to have been a stray wanderer by the lake-side. Their presupposition concerning the reappearance of their risen Lord would probably have involved some strange and awe-striking fulguration of his power; but the true "spiritual body" does, when it pleases, take on forms far more familiar.

(2) The slowness of the process by which the apostles became finally convinced, against their prejudices and sense-bound views, that he had risen into a new form of living, and into new conditions of existence.

The Pulpit Commentary (1880–1919), ed. H.D.M. Spence-Jones & Joseph S. Exell — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

They knew not that it was Jesus - Probably their eyes were holden.

John Wesley, Explanatory Notes Upon the Whole Bible (1754–1765) — public domain. Text via the GEBible commentary corpus.

A second miraculous draught:

v. 4. But when the morning was now come, Jesus stood on the shore; but the disciples knew not that it was Jesus.

v. 5. Then Jesus saith unto them, Children, have ye any meat? They answered Him, No.

v. 6. And He said unto them, Cast the net on the right side of the ship, and ye shall find. They cast therefore, and now they were not able to draw it for the multitude of fishes.

v. 7. Therefore that disciple whom Jesus loved saith unto Peter, It is the Lord. Now when Simon Peter heard that it was the Lord, he girt his fisher’s coat unto him, (for he was naked,) and did cast himself into the sea.

v. 8. And the other disciples came in a little ship; (for they were not far from the land, but as it were two hundred cubits,) dragging the net with fishes.

The dawn of the morning after a night of such toil may well have found the disciples discouraged, and they turned more closely inshore. And there was Jesus standing on the shore, although the men in the boat did not recognize Him. It was another revelation of His spiritual body, which had the faculty of becoming invisible and changing its characteristics. The old familiar form and appearance was often not there to guide the disciples after the resurrection, as in the case of the appearance to Mary Magdalene and to the Emmaus pilgrims. Jesus did not reveal His identity at once. He merely called to them, as any man might have addressed a company of fishermen: Lads, have you any fish? that is: Have you had any luck in your work? Did you catch any fish? The word used by the Lord indicates anything that was eaten in addition to the regular meal of bread, the German Zukost. Since, in those countries, this was almost invariably fish, the question is very simple in its meaning. Upon their answering in the negative, the Lord bids them cast forth their net on the right side of the boat, for there they would find fish. And the result was such an immense catch of fish that the combined efforts of the men did not succeed in drawing the net into the boat. The number and the consequent weight of the fish were too great for their strength. The first man among the disciples to draw the proper conclusion from this obvious miracle was John. He told Peter: It is the Lord. This explanation immediately appealed to Peter, and, with his usual impetuous ardor, he quickly threw about him his fisherman’s coat, or blouse, and plunged into the sea to swim to the shore. As an old commentator has it: "John had the keener insight, Peter the greater ardor. " Peter had very likely been rowing with probably only a loin-cloth on, and the small garment, or coat, could be girded on most quickly over his naked body. The other disciples came more slowly than Peter, in the little boat or skiff, with the net full of fishes in tow. This was done all the more easily, since they had been a matter of only two hundred cubits, about one hundred yards, from the shore. All the disciples present knew by this time that they had again witnessed a miracle, had, in fact, been instruments of the Lord in performing this miracle, and the narrative pictures them as filled with awe and relevance at this new manifestation of divine power on the part of Jesus.

Paul E. Kretzmann, Popular Commentary of the Bible (1921–1924) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Observe here, 1. Christ was near, very near to his disciples, but they perceived it not: Jesus stood on the shore, but they knew not that it was Jesus.

Learn, Christ is not always discerned by us when he is present with us; it is a double mercy to enjoy his company, and to know indeed that it is he.

Observe, 2. Although they had laboured all the night in vain, yet at Christ’s command they go to work again, and with great success: They were not able to draw the net for the multitude of fishes.

When Christ is about to do great things for his people, yet will he have them exert all possible endeavours of their own; and the want of former success must not discourage from future endeavours.

Observe, 3. What a proof Christ here gives of his divinity and godhead: how were all the fish in the sea at his pleasure, and obedient to his command! he knew where they swam, and brings them from one part of the lake to the other, where the disciples had toiled all night, and caught nothing. Christ our Mediator is true God, and as such he had a sovereign power and providence over all the creatures; the cattle on a thousand hills, and all the fish swimming in the sea, are obedient to his power, and observant of his commands.

William Burkitt's Expository Notes on the New Testament (1700–1703) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

4. When the morning was now come. The Revision is correct: “When the day was now breaking.”

B. W. Johnson's The People's New Testament with Notes (1889–1891) — public domain. Electronic text from the Christian Classics Ethereal Library (CCEL) ThML edition.

Young men

This is a term of endearment that means "My dear friends."

you will find some

Here "some" refers to fish. AT: "you will catch some fish in your net" (See: Assumed Knowledge and Implicit Information)

draw it in

"pull the net in"

translationWords

Jesus

disciple

unfoldingWord translationNotes — © Distant Shores Media and the Door43 World Missions Community, licensed CC BY-SA 4.0. Source: git.door43.org/Door43/en_tn.

4. ἐπὶ τὸν αἰγ. Pregnant construction; ‘He came to and stood on the beach.’ Comp. Joh 1:32-33, Joh 3:36 (Joh 19:13, Joh 20:19); Mat 3:2. Μέντοι, howbeit or nevertheless, implies that their not knowing was surprising: μέντοι, besides here, occurs four times in S. John (Joh 4:27, Joh 7:13, Joh 12:42, Joh 20:5); elsewhere three times [11]. For οὐκ ᾔδεισαν see on Joh 20:14.

Cambridge Greek Testament for Schools and Colleges (Cambridge University Press, 1896; 21 vols, various authors incl. Carr, Maclear, Plummer, Farrar, Lumby, Moule, M. R. James, Simcox) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

4. ἔστη εἰς] See reff. A sudden appearance is indicated by the words.

The ἐστιν after ᾔδεισαν is quite in John’s manner: see reff.

Henry Alford, The Greek Testament (1849–1861) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

4. πρωΐας δὲ ἤδη γινομένης, “when dawn was now breaking,” and the light not yet good. Jn. never has πρωΐα in the body of the Gospel, while πρωΐ occurs 18:28, 20:1 (see also on 1:41). Mt. has πρωΐα (Mat 27:1).

For γινομένης (ABC*LΘ), the rec. has γενομένης (אDNWΓΔΘ).

ἔστη Ἰησοῦς ἐπὶ τὸν αἰγιαλόν. ἐπί is read by אADLΘ (cf. Mat 13:2, Mat 13:48, Act 21:5 ἐπὶ τὸν αἰγιαλόν); but BCNW have εἰς (cf. Act 27:40 εἰς τὸν αἰγιαλόν “towards the beach”). Perhaps εἰς has come in here through assimilation to ἔστη εἰς τὸ μέσον (20:19, 26, where see note).

μέντοι is a Johannine word; see on 12:42.

For ᾔδεισαν followed by the historic present ἐστίν, see on 1:39. That disciples, who had so recently seen the Risen Lord twice, according to the Johannine tradition (20:19, 26), should not recognise Him, even after He had spoken to them, might, perhaps, be accounted for by their distance from the shore and the dimness of the early morning light. Again, the failure of the two disciples at Emmaus to identify Him at first (Luk 24:31); and the failure of Mary Magdalene to recognise Him when she saw Him (20:14 οὐκ ᾔδει ὅτι Ἰησοῦς ἐστίν, words identical with those used here) may be taken as showing that the Risen Lord was not recognisable, unless He chose “to manifest Himself.” The latter may be the true explanation.1 But the present instance of the disciples’ failure to recognise Him is perplexing, for (according to Jn.) they had already seen Him; even if we do not lay stress on the Marcan tradition according to which they had been told that they might expect to see Him in Galilee.

International Critical Commentary — older volumes (1896–1929), various authors — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword module.

Was come [γενομενης] . The best texts read the present participle, ginomenhv, is coming. Rev., when day was now breaking. The A. V. does not agree so well with the fact that Jesus was not at once recognized by the disciples, owing in part, perhaps, to the imperfect light.

On the shore [εις τον αιγιαλον] . Rev., beach. See on Mt 13:2. The preposition eijv, to, makes the phrase equivalent to "Jesus came to the beach and stood there."

Marvin R. Vincent, Word Studies in the New Testament (1887–1900) — public domain. Text from a community e-Sword/MySword module.