II. The Passage Across the Lake

These three followers on the sea-shore having been dealt with, not after the words but according to the heart of each, Christ enters the ship. One probably returns to his friends and family, and another to his comfortable nest. The third leaves others to bury his father, and embarks with Christ; and he finds a rough and trying lesson to learn, in this first following of his Lord.

1. Christ commands his disciples to pass over to the other side of the sea. The literal distance is not great, say perhaps ten miles; allowing both for the breadth, and for their destination on the other side being toward the south of the lake. But measured by the transition from Capernaum to Gergesa, the real distance is far more than the breadth of a wide ocean. It is to pass from a circle of friends into the midst of strangers; from love, kindness, and honor, into suspicion, hatred, and fear; from earnest followers forsaking all for his sake, and entreating him to remain, to the trembling slaves of their own lusts, grudging the loss of their ill-gotten gains, and beseeching him to depart out of their coasts; from flocks of sheep on the hills, and busy fishermen on the shore, to herds of swine, howling maniacs, and legions of devils. Let us pass over unto the other side, Jesus said; leaving all that was so attractive for that which was so repulsive, and taking his disciples with him. He who dwells in the pillar of the cloud, even when our hearts are saying that it is good for us to be here, will often give the command, Let us pass over to the other side; and if he go and we follow not, we shall not retain his presence even where we may have found it sweetest.

2. The voyage is undertaken suddenly, for "they took him, even as he was, in the ship." Jesus departs without preparation for himself, or for his disciples. They had not expected such an order that evening; it has been a long day's work to him and a long day's listening for them, in public preaching and private instruction; and rest seems now to be seasonable for the servants, and needful for their Master. But the people on this side have heard for the present as much as they can receive; and when the multitude is dismissed, Jesus will go elsewhere with the tidings of salvation; so they take him, as he was, into the ship. The Son of Man, the Heir of all things, in the zeal of his Father's house and his love to men, makes little of personal comforts himself; and wills that his disciples should hold themselves ready to go at a moment's notice on their Master's service: prepared to leave home and comfort and ease, whenever the gospel calls for the sacrifice.

3. He takes the apostles with him: the school of the prophets, in which he is training the ministers of the word. Let no man despise a due preparation for that sacred office; for those men who were afterwards endued with the Holy Ghost and with power, who were to excel others both in personal grace and miraculous gifts, were diligently trained for the ministry by Christ himself for the space of three years. He taught them in public and private, examined them often by close questioning, and gave them every opportunity of putting questions to him in return. Theirs was also a training college, from which the students were sent forth to preach, and to return to their Lord with an account of their labors; and the teaching was not the less effectual but the more, because Teacher and scholars together passed from place to place, as on the present occasion. It was an ambulatory school of the prophets, with daily lessons in providence as well as in grace. Without providential teaching, a man is but a half-taught minister of the word. Even if he have both grace and gift, he will lack one great branch of that knowledge with which the people require to be daily fed.

4. Besides Christ's immediate company in their own ship a number of other disciples, ministering women probably as well as men, accompanied him in "other little ships." They may not know their exact destination, but they understand that it is some distance farther down the lake on the other side; for none of them attempt to go round by land, as they do on another occasion afterwards. Some of them accompany him in ships, and the rest wait for his return; for when he landed again, "the people gladly received him, for they were all waiting for him." They did not remain upon the shore during Christ's absence; for he crossed to Gergesa in the evening, and could not have returned till the following day. But they watch for his coming; some of them must see the ship, soon after it leaves the other shore; and when Jesus returns home, the whole people are assembled on the beach to welcome his arrival. How beautiful are the feet of them that publish good tidings!

III. Jesus Asleep in the Storm

1. Christ's sleep on the sea presents a remarkable illustration of the announcement he had made just before embarking, that the Son of Man hath not where to lay his head: an apt figure of the homeless state of Jesus in the earth. The only occasion in all his life, that we read of Jesus laying himself down to sleep, is on this pillow in the hinder part of the ship. In infancy he lay in the manger of Bethlehem; after his resurrection, we are invited to look within the tomb at the place where the Lord lay; but we have no record of his ever laying himself down to rest, except upon the bosom of the restless sea. After he is risen from the dead, he stands on the shore of the lake while the disciples are in the ship, because there is then "no more sea" to him. But now he lays his head upon a pillow on the deep; as if to intimate, that for Him in the day of his trial there is nothing but sea. He is laying the everlasting base of the city that hath foundations, of the kingdom that cannot be moved; and he is himself the immovable Rock on which it is built. But it is not of the earth, but spiritual and eternal; and the great Founder of all is a stranger in the world, a homeless wanderer through its cities: the Son of Man, with no place to lay his head but a pillow on the troubled waters.

2. This sleep is the holy rest of the weary workman after earnest labor. Jesus often wakes while others sleep. On the lonely mountain he watches all night, when the world is sunk in slumber; now he is fast asleep, when the world is awake and busy. The Son of Man who sat upon the well at Sychar, wearied with his journey, is now wearied with the double work of mind and body in preaching and patient teaching; and he falls into sound and refreshing sleep. Yet it is not slumber overcoming him, but time purposely redeemed for sleep; whether eating or drinking, or whatsoever he doth, doing all to the glory of God. The time is not suited for public work; not suited for secret prayer or watching; and Jesus redeems it for rest. It is so much time gained; the sleep that is taken on the brief voyage will save another hour, for labor on the shore in meditation or in discourse. So He giveth his Beloved sleep. What a childlike, quiet rest in the bosom of the Father; what a Sabbath of peace in the Son of Man; what a sweet and holy forgetfulness of the bitter cup, that is to end all his labors. What a blessed resting of the Father's eye on his beloved Son; what a wondering and admiring watch of the legions of angels, who minister round their Lord on the deep.

3. Christ's is a quiet sleep in the midst of danger, through the sudden storm that breaks out while they sail. The terrible tempest that is sometimes raised in that Galilean Sea will be understood by the following description: "To understand the causes of these sudden and violent tempests, we must remember the lake lies low ( six hundred feet lower than the ocean; that the vast and naked plateaus of the Jaulan rise to a great height, spreading backward to the wilds of the Hauran, and upward to snowy Hermon; that the water-courses have cut out profound ravines and wild gorges, converging to the head of this lake; and that these act like gigantic funnels to draw down the cold winds from the mountains. On the occasion referred to, we subsequently pitched out tents at the shore, and remained three days and nights exposed to this tremendous wind. We had to double-pin all the tent-ropes, and frequently were obliged to hang with our whole weight upon them, to keep the quivering tabernacle from being carried up bodily into the air. The whole lake, as we had it, was lashed into fury; the waves repeatedly rolled up to our tent door, tumbling over the ropes with such violence as to carry away the tent-pins. And, moreover, these winds are not only violent, but they come down suddenly, and often when the sky is perfectly clear. I once went in to swim near the hot baths, and before I was aware, a wind came rushing over the cliffs with such force that it was with great difficulty I could regain the shore. Some such sudden wind it was, I suppose, that filled the ship with waves, "so that it was now full," while Jesus was asleep on a pillow in the hinder part of the ship."

There is no tempest, indeed, when Jesus lays himself down to rest; but the howling winds and beating waves, with the water rising round him in the fast filling ship, all disturb not his quiet rest. Nor is it sleep that prevents agitation, for he is equally calm when awake, but the outward quiet is the image of the holy peace within. There are other billows around him, darker and more furious than the waves of the sea. When Jesus awakes "he rebukes the wind"; not with unmeaning reproof, but because the prince of the power of the air has stirred the tempest; and he is rebuked in the chiding of the winds, which have been moved by his malice. Jesus is about to assault the principalities and powers in their stronghold amid the tombs of Gadara. They are not ignorant of his approach, nor is he unaware of their enmity; but knowing all he lays himself down in quiet rest. He seems thus to place himself in their power; but the Almighty God keeps him safely, for his enemies are all in his Father's hands.

"I will both lay me down in peace and sleep,
For thou, Lord, only makest me dwell in safety;
I will not be afraid of ten thousands of people
That have set themselves against me round about.
I laid me down and slept,
I awaked, for the Lord sustained me."

The rage of Satan is not only foiled, but the evil he threatens and attempts falls speedily upon himself. As in the end the death of Christ is the destruction of Satan; so now his legions are cast into that sea, in which he seeks to overwhelm Jesus. When he reaches the shore, Satan is not only rebuked but cast out; into that same deep the maddened swine rush headlong, and the devils are sent back into their dreaded abyss below.

4. As He is weary at the well of Sychar, who "fainteth not, neither is weary"; so He sleepeth in the ship, "who neither slumbers nor sleeps." The seamen marvel at him afterwards, when He stilleth the tempest; but Jesus sleeping is the greater marvel of the two. The Eternal Word made flesh "was asleep on the pillow." In his Godhead he slept not, but He who is the Almighty God sleeps in his holy manhood. The body sleeps; but Jesus sleeps in that body prepared for him, made one with himself, for ever part of his one undivided person. Not one Christ sleeps, and another Christ stills the tempest; but the same Christ sleeps on the waves, who with his word bids the waves be still. It is not that the manhood sleeps, and the Godhead quiets the wind, as if they were two persons; but the one Lord Jesus sleeps in his manhood, and by his Godhead rebukes the winds. Wondrous Holy One, God manifest in flesh, in two distinct natures, yet one Person for ever.

5. The sleep of innocence in Jesus presents a striking contrast to the sleep of guilt in Jonah. Jesus went into "the hinder part of the ship"; Jonah "went down into the sides of the ship." Jesus lay and "was asleep on a pillow"; Jonah "lay and was fast asleep." The disciples awake Jesus, calling, "Carest thou not that we perish?" The shipmaster awoke Jonah, saying, "Arise, call upon thy God, if so be that God will think upon us, that we perish not." There is a remarkable resemblance in so far between the two cases, but with an infinite contrast. The one is the deep sleep of innocence; the other is the deep sleep of guilt. In the one ship the only innocent One sleeps, and he sleeps because he is innocent; in the other it is the guilty man alone that sleeps, and he sleeps because he is guilty.

But how constantly the one is mistaken for the other. The world is fast asleep; asleep in the arms of the wicked one, in the snare of the devil; asleep in the midst of the sea; asleep while the waves of wrath are ready to swallow them up. Thousands in the church are so asleep; at ease in Zion; slumbering in false security; yet vainly fancying that all is well. They speak peace to themselves when there is no peace; they imagine that it is the peace of life and salvation, when it is only the peace of an unawakened conscience; for theirs is not the sleep of the innocent Jesus, but the sleep of the guilty Jonah.

Yet Jonah is a type of Jesus, the type given by Christ himself; a figure of Christ in his death and resurrection; a figure of Christ in one dying that the rest may be saved. The guilt of Jonah is personal; the guilt of Christ is imputed. Jonah is the one transgressor who is cast into the deep, and the waves of God's anger are stilled. Jesus is made sin and curse for his people, is cast into the waves of God's wrath, and they are quieted for us; he is made sin, and we are made righteousness; the wrath rests of Him, and we have peace forever. The waves that now surround the ship are quieted by the word of Jesus, without his being cast into the sea. But in the last sea of trouble it is both. Jesus is first cast into the deep gulf; then he speaks to us in almighty power, Peace, be still; and we enter into rest. But this anticipates the end of the storm, and we now notice:

IV. Jesus Stilling the Tempest

1. The calm is in answer to the earnest cry of the disciples. The mere fact that Jesus is in the ship does not prevent the tempest, but is the very cause of its rising. No doubt the disciples expected, that the sea would be calm when it carried Jesus; for they had some experience of his knowledge of the deep, and his power over it, in the miraculous draught of fishes. And when the storm came with Jesus in the ship, they certainly reckoned that it would not reach the extremity of imminent danger, else they had awoke him earlier. The interruption of sleep is a much greater matter in the East than with us; and it is only a serious occasion, that would be counted a sufficient warrant for breaking in upon the sleep of a friend, still more of a Master. Reverence for Christ's person, and reluctance to disturb his repose, make them defer till the last moment.

But now the ship is filling fast with water, and they are sinking in the deep. The danger is perhaps not greater, but it has reached a far more critical point and is much more immediate, than when Jonah is awoke from his guilty slumber. After that the seamen converse with him, and cast lots for which is to be thrown overboard, and they still row hard to reach the land till they find all to be in vain. But the disciples are already past such efforts. The shipmaster reasons with Jonah in awaking him, What meanest thou, O sleeper? But the disciples gather round Jesus with brief and urgent calls for help. "Master, master, we perish," one of them cries; "Master, carest thou not that we perish?" is the cry of another; and the prayer of a third, "Lord, save us, we perish."

It is a great lesson for us to pray in the time of our need; not to reckon that the mere presence of Christ is enough; but to call, Awake, awake, O arm of the Lord. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much; not the mere fact of his being a righteous man in whom Christ dwelleth, but the earnest prayer of such a man whom Christ heareth. The promise of our heavenly Father giving good things to his children, is made special to them that ask. Jesus in the ship does not save it from jeopardy, till he is called up and awoke by prayer. He seems to take no charge of it till then, and not even of his own personal interest in it. So he often appears not to care even for his cause and kingdom, till called upon to arise and help us. It is not because he forgets; but because he will be entreated by us to stretch forth his arm to save.

The cry of the apostles for themselves brings deliverance to many around them. There were "other little ships" along with them, which must all have been exposed to the same tempest. Though none of them might seem so near to sinking as the ship in which Jesus sailed, and on account of which alone the tempest was raised, still they must all have been in jeopardy in that hour, scattered from each other and driven furiously over the boiling sea. The apostles alone are near to Jesus. They cry, and for them the storm is changed into a calm; but the calm that saves the one ship rescues all from destruction, and awakens many songs of praise from the deep. We can never pray for ourselves without benefiting others; we cannot obtain spiritual help for our own souls without helping many; we never so pray that Satan is cast out of our own hearts, or out of our company, without others sharing in the heavenly calm. What an argument for those that are nearest to Christ, to call upon his name; for if the other ships had perished through lack of prayer in the apostles, would not the blood of many have been on their heads?

2. Jesus stills the tempest; he awakes and silences the wind by his word. But first he stills the disciples' troubled hearts; stills them by his example, and then by his words. He sets them an example of fearless calm in the midst of danger; of "great calm" in spirit, not after the storm is over but whilst it rages. Jesus awakes, but does not at once arise. He talks with the disciples before rising from the pillow on which he rests. His composure must have strengthened them; but his delay must have tried their patience, while the ship is sinking under every wave.

Jesus feared God, and was heard in that he feared; and because he was perfect in the fear of God, he never trembled before any creature, or any created terror. He feared no man; no crafty fox-like Herod threatening to kill him; no proud Pharisees thinking to overawe him by their presence; no Jews taking up stones to stone him; no Nazarenes dragging him to the brink of the precipice. So now he fears no ragging waves of the sea, threatening to engulf the ship. This is not because by his Godhead he can still the tempest; but because he trusts in the living God, who holds the sea in the hollow of his hand; for "he was in all points tempted like as we are, yet without sin." He fears not death, because he cannot die till his hour is come; but if this should be death, it brings no terror to Him. In the prospect of the cross, his soul was exceeding sorrowful and sore amazed. But that was not mere death, but the cup which the Father gave him to drink; it was the hiding of his Father's face, and himself made sin for us in dying on the accursed tree. Of simple death he has now no fear; but is equally calm amidst the devouring waves, as upon the quiet shore.

Thus he teaches his disciples, and reproves them for being so faithless and so fearful. It is not because there is no danger, which unquestionably there was at the moment; nor is it chiefly because they should hold it impossible for the ship to sink that bears the holy Jesus, though this element may enter into it. But it is mainly a lesson of trust in their heavenly Father; either for deliverance out of death, or for preservation through it unto life eternal, as may seem to him best. Jesus said to them, and probably before this trial: The hairs of your head are all numbered, fear not them that kill the body, but fear Him who is able to cast soul and body into hell. He enjoins them to trust God for preserving every hair of their head, if that be for their good; but if they are to die in his service, to have no dread at all of the death of the body but only to fear the living God. The same lessons he teaches practically now: The hairs of your head are all numbered, the sparrow falls not to the ground without your heavenly Father, those waves cannot hurt you without his will: O ye of little faith, wherefore do ye doubt? But if otherwise, if it be death, fear not those billows that can only kill the body, and after that have no more that they can do. Why are ye so fearful? when it is the Father's good pleasure to give you the kingdom: Why cry, We perish; when the that believeth on me shall never perish, but shall have everlasting life.

Then Jesus rises in his own divine majesty, rebukes the winds and stills the waves, and there is "a great calm." And now the disciples fear, not the mighty waves of the sea, but the presence of Him who is more in might by far.

"The floods have lifted up, O Lord,
The floods have lifted up their voice;
The floods lift up their waves.
The Lord on high is mightier
Than the voice of many waters,
Yea, than the mighty waves of the sea."

What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey him? It is the Man that is my Fellow, saith the Lord of hosts; the Son of Man, who is God manifest in flesh; therefore mighty works show forth themselves in Him.

Presence of mind in the midst of danger, as brought out in Christ's own example, is one of the greatest of all blessings to ourselves and to others. Nothing can give it rightly, but the fear of death removed through peace with God in Jesus Christ; and this peace will often give it, even to those who through fear of death had been all their lifetime subject to bondage.

This voyage to the other side is an image of many a believer's life: In moderate quiet at first, our ship sails over placid waters; then often a mighty tempest arises, with much fear lest we shall one day perish; then the word of the Lord comes with power and creates "a great calm," an emblem and earnest of the everlasting calm in that life above where there shall be "no more sea." Meanwhile, in our many tumults and tempests, how effectually, and how quickly, does a single word of Jesus quiet the soul. How oft does he say to sin and Satan raging within us, Peace, be still; and how instantly there is a great calm; even the peace of God that passeth understanding, keeping the heart and mind in Christ Jesus.