"And Jesus said to them, “Follow me, and I will make you become fishers of men.” Mark 1:17
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| "Now fish for men" |
His first name was Leon. He was a poor French boy. When he left home his mother, who kept a little shop, said to him, “My boy, before you come back try to be somebody.'' He went to Paris and studied hard. When other boys were loafing and smoking cigarettes Leon was reading in his little attic in the Latin Quarter at Paris. He worked hard. He did become “somebody.” He became the first man in France. His name was Gambetta and when he died men said, “France has lost her greatest man.”
It is wonderful how many men who began as “nobodies” really became “somebodies.” Of course, everything worth while begins that way. The great oak was once a tiny acorn. The mighty river was once a little brook. Jesus, the greatest of men, was once a carpenter. Take your Bible and see how many nobodies became somebodies.
Who was Abraham? He came out of a heathen land and his father worshiped idols, but he became the father of a great nation. Who was Joseph? He was the youngest son, and began life as a messenger boy and later was sold as a slave, but he became prime minister of Egypt. Who was Moses? He was found in a basket, beside the river Nile. He was the child of slaves, but he became the greatest statesman the world has ever known.
Who was Ruth? She was a heathen girl, born in Moab, but she became the great grandmother of King David and the sweetest woman in the Old Testament. Who was David? He was a shepherd lad, keeping his sheep around Bethlehem, but he became king of Israel. Who was Esther? She was a Jewish girl, an orphan, who became Queen of Persia, and one of the heroines of history.
Turn now to the New Testament.
Who was John the Baptist? He was a “wilderness” man, living in the desert, but he became the herald of Jesus the Savior.
Who was Mary? She was an obscure maiden, living in the little village of Nazareth, but she became the mother of Jesus.
Who were John, and James, and Peter and Andrew? They were fishermen, but now they belong to the glorious company of the Apostles.
It matters little where we come from. It matters a great deal where we are going. When Matthew Henry, the great Bible student, proposed marriage to the beautiful girl who later became his wife, her parents said “No. We know nothing about him. We do not even know where he came from.” She replied, “But I know where he is going, and I wish to go with him.”
Now turn to history, Aesop, who wrote the wonderful stories we call Fables, was a slave.
Robert Burns, the poet of Scotland, was a poor farmer's son.
John Bunyan, who wrote “Pilgrim’s Progress'' one of the greatest of books, was a tinker, a traveling tinker.
Oliver Cromwell, who became the uncrowned king of England, was the son of a brewer.
Benjamin Franklin, whom we all honor, was a printer.
John Howard, the reformer, was born in the
home of a carpenter.
Samuel Johnson, the wise man of letters, was the son of a poor bookseller.
Martin Luther was a miner’s son and played music on the street in a real “German band.”
William Shakespeare was the son of a butcher, and William Wordsworth was a barber’s boy.
They called Jesus the son of a carpenter, and thought that would explain Him, but it explained nothing. Jesus did begin life as a carpenter, but He became the Savior of the World. There is a story in the Gospels that one day a poor sick woman, who did not wish to be seen, followed Jesus, touched the hem of His garments and was made well and strong. Jesus knew what she had done and turning around said, “Somebody touched me.” She had become strong and well by touching Jesus. Peter and John and James and Matthew and Mary Magdalene all came in touch with Jesus, and from being “nobodies” they became “somebodies.” Jesus is the master and maker of men. To His early followers He said, “Come after me, and I will make you to become”—what?
When He first met Simon He said, “Thou art Simon; thou shalt be called Peter.” The word Peter means “rock,” and Peter did become a rock-like man, a strong, courageous follower of Jesus. Everything depends on the end. The important thing about anything is the end. We want to know what a child or a man will “become” before we pass judgment. The rough unpolished stone may become a beautiful diamond. A few notes may become a sweet song. A humble cottage may become a happy and radiant home. When Jesus was a carpenter He made good yokes for the oxen and built good houses and as Savior He makes good boys and girls, good men and women. Let this then be our prayer:
It is wonderful how many men who began as “nobodies” really became “somebodies.” Of course, everything worth while begins that way. The great oak was once a tiny acorn. The mighty river was once a little brook. Jesus, the greatest of men, was once a carpenter. Take your Bible and see how many nobodies became somebodies.
Who was Abraham? He came out of a heathen land and his father worshiped idols, but he became the father of a great nation. Who was Joseph? He was the youngest son, and began life as a messenger boy and later was sold as a slave, but he became prime minister of Egypt. Who was Moses? He was found in a basket, beside the river Nile. He was the child of slaves, but he became the greatest statesman the world has ever known.
Who was Ruth? She was a heathen girl, born in Moab, but she became the great grandmother of King David and the sweetest woman in the Old Testament. Who was David? He was a shepherd lad, keeping his sheep around Bethlehem, but he became king of Israel. Who was Esther? She was a Jewish girl, an orphan, who became Queen of Persia, and one of the heroines of history.
Turn now to the New Testament.
Who was John the Baptist? He was a “wilderness” man, living in the desert, but he became the herald of Jesus the Savior.
Who was Mary? She was an obscure maiden, living in the little village of Nazareth, but she became the mother of Jesus.
Who were John, and James, and Peter and Andrew? They were fishermen, but now they belong to the glorious company of the Apostles.
It matters little where we come from. It matters a great deal where we are going. When Matthew Henry, the great Bible student, proposed marriage to the beautiful girl who later became his wife, her parents said “No. We know nothing about him. We do not even know where he came from.” She replied, “But I know where he is going, and I wish to go with him.”
Now turn to history, Aesop, who wrote the wonderful stories we call Fables, was a slave.
Robert Burns, the poet of Scotland, was a poor farmer's son.
John Bunyan, who wrote “Pilgrim’s Progress'' one of the greatest of books, was a tinker, a traveling tinker.
Oliver Cromwell, who became the uncrowned king of England, was the son of a brewer.
Benjamin Franklin, whom we all honor, was a printer.
John Howard, the reformer, was born in the
home of a carpenter.
Samuel Johnson, the wise man of letters, was the son of a poor bookseller.
Martin Luther was a miner’s son and played music on the street in a real “German band.”
William Shakespeare was the son of a butcher, and William Wordsworth was a barber’s boy.
They called Jesus the son of a carpenter, and thought that would explain Him, but it explained nothing. Jesus did begin life as a carpenter, but He became the Savior of the World. There is a story in the Gospels that one day a poor sick woman, who did not wish to be seen, followed Jesus, touched the hem of His garments and was made well and strong. Jesus knew what she had done and turning around said, “Somebody touched me.” She had become strong and well by touching Jesus. Peter and John and James and Matthew and Mary Magdalene all came in touch with Jesus, and from being “nobodies” they became “somebodies.” Jesus is the master and maker of men. To His early followers He said, “Come after me, and I will make you to become”—what?
When He first met Simon He said, “Thou art Simon; thou shalt be called Peter.” The word Peter means “rock,” and Peter did become a rock-like man, a strong, courageous follower of Jesus. Everything depends on the end. The important thing about anything is the end. We want to know what a child or a man will “become” before we pass judgment. The rough unpolished stone may become a beautiful diamond. A few notes may become a sweet song. A humble cottage may become a happy and radiant home. When Jesus was a carpenter He made good yokes for the oxen and built good houses and as Savior He makes good boys and girls, good men and women. Let this then be our prayer:
“Make me
What I ought to be.”
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