These words were spoken by our Lord to Peter on that memorable occasion when Jesus, in a more public manner, reinstated Peter as an Apostle after his public denial of the Master during the trial before the High Priest. Jesus had met Peter privately on the day of His resurrection (Luke 24.34) and there can be little doubt that He had spoken words of comfort to his distracted heart. What passed in some quiet spot between the risen Lord and Peter with his overwhelming contrite heart, we do not know; it is not recorded, and it might be presumption to attempt to reconstruct their conversation at that time. Peter had evidently told his brethren about his interview with the Lord, for when the brethren from Emmaus returned to Jerusalem with the story of their wonderful experience the Jerusalem brethren rejoicing replied, "The Lord is risen indeed and appeared to Simon". Peter had thus been reconciled to his Master prior to this public interview, and held in his heart the full assurance he had been forgiven and that the Lord still loved him dearly, his failure notwithstanding.

In the grey dawn of this particular morning Jesus had searched the soul of Peter through and through by His thrice repeated query "Simon, son of John do you love me more than these?" Peter was grieved that the Lord so persistently put His question as to ask it a third time. It seemed as though the Master doubted his word and was not satisfied with the two assurances already given. But Jesus did not doubt his word, for whatever may have been the purpose in Jesus' mind when asking the question thrice, He immediately proceeded to tell Peter that He would serve him long and well right on into old age. "When you were young, you girded yourself and walked where you would; but when you are old, you will stretch out your hands, and another will gird you and carry you where you do not wish to go."(John 21. 18)

John, who wrote these words, and lived long enough afterwards to see their fulfilment says "This he said to show by what death he was to glorify God". In the freshness of youth Peter had chosen his own course and acted on his own initiative but when he should have come to old age his freedom to act should be curtailed. No matter how he still desired to serve and lead the flock of God, hindering circumstances would arise, and prevent the accomplishment of his heart's desire. Though the passing years brought mellowing ripeness to his soul, tempering the impetuous rashness of his early life, making him the more fitted to counsel and guide the pilgrim band. Yet the withering frost of age, or the hindering hand of circumstance, bar and check the work he would always long to do. How would that react upon his mind? How would he stand when, instead of being master of the situation, the situation became master of him; instead of serving long and late, his strength was spent before the sun was set, when, wanting to travel far, the journey was too great? Could he resign himself to his state without regrets or fears?

Among the many trials of the Christian life, the trials due to advancing age are not the least. Especially trying will they be when following on an active life. In the full hey-day of life when strength was equal to every opportunity, the faithful soul found joyous delight in every task. The thrill of contest on many fields, the pleasure of service in many spheres, the power to 'do' when duty called, all this had brought delight untold. Life teemed with purpose and accomplishment. Each passing day saw something attempted, something done. It was good to alive. It was a touch of very heaven, to have a glorious message to tell and hearing ears to proclaim it to. To pass out from the crush of the arena into the quiet hush of the shadows for no reason besides advancing years may be extremely hard to bear. Only when in the earliest of declining years the spirit of sloth and slumber has settled down upon he mind can retirement into the shadows be accepted with total resignation. Only when the drag of inertia and irresolution of the will has made the easy chair more acceptable than the conflict can one regret that the day of opportunity is done. Those who drink deeply of the cup of joy in service do not lightly lay it aside. Unless dry rot had started ere the day was done, the evening twilight hours might chafe. The corrosion of rust would be more feared than all the wear of usefulness where service had been a delight. This pause from labour need not bring regrets nor cause repining if the heart is quietly at rest in God. To grow old gracefully and peacefully is right and blessed in God's sight. It is not that He needed the puny hands to help in His task, even when quick and strong. He could have done it by some other means. It throws no added burden upon His mighty arms when we lay down to rest or cease from toil. Our best endeavours brought no profit or enrichment to Him. Our efforts yielded Him no wealth. Profitable servants we never were. Like some mere child with small toy spade, hindering perhaps more often than we helped, He watched us dig His plot. He bore our little whims, and overruled them all for good. We thought He needed us, or else the work would stop. Had we not swung the sword, we thought, the cause of Truth would fail. Had we not fed the flock, the sheep must famish by the way. What little vain conceits we had! He did not chide nor thwart our little task, but He who made the sun and rules the world; who filled the heaven with stars, pursued His sovereign way and out from our little effort, made His own pattern come true. Withal we fussed and prated, but He worked deep within, and now His wok will stand to crown our closing years. Though memory now may fail us, He set the cast of our mind so that it turns to Him as the needle to the pole. Though eyes be dimmed and long-prized books perforce be laid aside, the fibre of the soul is sound, tinged through and through with root principles of Holy Writ. Though thought be slow and words be few, the sense of rest and peace prevails; the 'Peace of God' has taken sentry duty there. Though strength be scant and feeble, limbs scarce move at will, the faith looks through the thinning veil and soars aloft, beyond earth's sensuous things, to find in contemplation's quiet retreat the presence of Him who makes her foundation firm. The law of compensations now works strong within, for when the earth has little else to give the bounteous hand of Heaven gives more, and sublimates each act of life. He east and drinks of heavenly grace unhurried, unperturbed. No hectic call of duty nor rush of common round breaks in upon the soul's repose, as in the former years, in its 'at Home' with God. It is not loss, nor theme for vain regrets if Heaven thus loads the moments which Time filches from our scanty store. It is not lazing out life's remnant hours, to dwell alone with God. 'Rest' brings no 'rust', enfeebled limbs cause no inactivity, when we abide with Him. The hands may tremble and footsteps falter, this is no impotence if we walk with Him. This is that fruition and harvest-time for which our earlier sowings have been made. This is maturity, where crudities and greenness disappear in near-finished ripeness and sun tinting of the fruit. This is the completion of the sketch, the painting-in of the last glowing tints, balance out the background's sombre hues. It may be sunset-hour, but at "evening it shall be light", life's purposes stand out clear. It is a climax but not the end.

Dear child of God, whose steps approach the postern gate, these words are penned for you. You have grown old; perchance circumstances carry you whither you would not. Your race is nearly run. Your toil is almost done. The trail of life stretching back through years of tangled brier, but you are near the end. The Hand that led you last will lead you still; God will not suffer you faith to fail in your last days. He has ingrained too deep the precepts of His Word for you to drift away. "Hold fast that which you have", and keep the 'gold' already bought (Rev.3.18). Let none deprive you of your peace and rest and trust. God is your life and light, and will shortly be your salvation. Fret not you waning powers, nor pine because your eye is frail. Your Father knows all this, and he who marks each sparrow's fall will bear you up on His wings till you shall see His face. Perhaps you can no longer work for Him. Perhaps you cannot even read His Book with your own eyes. But mind it not, it is not what you have to give but you yourself the Master seeks and in the quietness of your evening hours He finds all that He desires. Have patience and hope on!

TH