CRITICAL AND EXEGETICAL NOTES
Mark 6:49. A spirit.—A phantasm or apparition.
Mark 6:52. Hardened.—Become dull—insusceptible and irresponsible to spiritual impressions. See chaps, Mark 3:5, Mark 8:17.
MAIN HOMILETICS OF THE PARAGRAPH.— Mark 6:45-56
(PARALLELS: Matthew 14:22-36; John 6:15-21.)
Christ walking on the sea.—This incident stands alone, among the recorded acts of Jesus, as a peculiar manifestation of His character and dealings. In general Christ’s miracles were founded on the principle of relieving human want and misery, while also displaying Divine power. But here the object was different, as will appear from a careful consideration of the circumstances.
I. It had been a day of self-revelation on the part of Jesus.—The privacy which He had sought for the apostles and Himself having been invaded by the multitude, He had devoted Himself to teaching them “concerning the kingdom of God, and healing them that had need of cure” (Luke 9:11). He had also relieved, by a miraculous increase of food, the hunger of five thousand men,—thus demonstrating to the people at large that He was at least a Messenger come from God; and as such they acknowledged Him. To His more immediate disciples, however, it was necessary that He should now manifest Himself in a character of more unquestionable greatness; it was important that they should regard Him, not merely as One come from God, but as a Being closely connected with the Deity, in a union incomprehensible indeed, but undeniable. In this character, therefore, He determined to exhibit Himself to them. Accordingly “He constrained His disciples to get into the ship,” etc. The unenlightened multitude whom He had instructed and miraculously fed sought forsooth to make Him a King, in acknowledgment of the benefits He had conferred upon them (John 6:15); but He who afterwards freely offered Himself to those who came to compass His death shrank from the proffered glories of the world, and sent away those who would have forced them on Him.
II. When evening came, Jesus was alone.—Mark how He employs the solitude thus sought and obtained. “He departed into a mountain to pray.” His life on earth was a mixture of contemplation and action, of austerity and freedom: we find Him often where the greatest concourse was to be found—in market-places, synagogues, etc.; and we find Him also retiring from the crowd into a desert or a garden, and there employing Himself in all kinds of religious exercise and intercourse with His Father, in fasting, meditation, and prayer. Following His example we may doubtless lead public lives innocently and usefully, conversing with men and doing them good, mutually sowing and reaping the various comforts and advantages of human society. But since the pleasures of conversation when too freely tasted are intoxicating and dangerous, since the temptations which we thereby meet with are many and great (and even where the spirit is willing to resist, yet the flesh is often weak), we ought therefore to regulate and restrain ourselves in the indulgence of such enjoyments by periodical intermissions of them, to strengthen ourselves for such public encounters by our religious privacies, to retire from the world and converse with God and our own conscience, examining the state and fortifying the power of our soul in secrecy and silence.
III. Next morning Jesus joined His disciples.—Some three hours after midnight “He cometh unto them, walking upon the sea.” The fact surprises us: yet why should it? All elements are surely alike to Him who made them! “The progress of Divinity, within His own dominions, cannot be confined to humanly constructed roads or solid ground.” What wonder, then, that He who had so amply demonstrated His power upon the land should display it upon the waters also? Our surprise is but a result and an evidence of the weakness of our faith. The disciples during Christ’s absence had been “toiling in rowing, for the wind was contrary.” Doubtless that conflict of the elements had been stirred by Christ Himself, for the clearer display of His power, and the deeper conviction of His disciples. From the mountain where He prayed He had witnessed their distress; but for the benefit of their souls He delayed their rescue. So with ourselves. Often does the providence of God surround us with so dark a tempest of calamity that the prospect of relief would seem almost hopeless. Yet even in the darkest hour the eye of faith will pierce through the gloom to the regions of joy and peace beyond. Nay, are we not, through the whole of our present existence, in the situation of those wave-tossed disciples, sailing upon a sea of anxiety at the best, and of peril for the most part, in the hope of the appearance of our Lord? Is not that hope the only source of our light, the only anchor of our soul?
IV. The appearance of Jesus first terrifies and then consoles.—
1. The confession of weakness so faithfully recorded in Mark 6:49 is a sample of the candour which distinguishes Holy Writ. Had Jesus approached the ship in any ordinary manner, it would have been unaccountable that His disciples should not instantly have recognised Him; but the way in which He came of itself explains their misapprehension. They had never seen Him hold in abeyance the laws of nature with respect to His own body. The idea of His walking over the sea had never entered their minds; and consequently, in the absence of any rational explanation, they readily fell a prey to the weak suggestions of superstitious credulity. And if through that mere delusion of the imagination they were thrilled with horror and cried out in an agony of fear, though free from crime, what must the guilty conscience suffer in self-inflicted tortures even here, and what must be its torment of remorse hereafter!
2. The consoling voice of Jesus calms the storm—both stilling the waves of the sea and dispelling the tumult in the hearts of the disciples (Mark 6:50-51). And in similar accents does He address Himself to all who turn to Him believing (Matthew 11:28; John 3:16).
3. As to the degree in which we may, indeed must, repose our confidence in Him, the example of St. Peter on this occasion amply instructs us (Matthew 14:28-32). We are invited, nay bidden, to come to Jesus; and no sooner do we make the attempt than we are endowed with strength to enable us to come; and under the support of that celestial aid, without which we could do nothing, we advance nearer and nearer to the Eternal Source of light and life.
V. How far was Christ’s object accomplished by this miracle?—St. Mark tells us that they were struck with amazement at the moment, and then, “after that sudden ‘ecstasy’ was past, they continued more collectedly and thoughtfully in a wondering mood.” St. Matthew adds (Mark 14:33) that they “came and worshipped Him, saying, Of a truth Thou art the Son of God.” This was the impression which Jesus had wished to produce upon their minds, and the acknowledgment which He had sought to draw from their lips. In forming and in expressing such an opinion they were supported by the authority of Scripture (Job 9:8).
Mark 6:56. Touching the Lord.—Wonderful scenes must these have been,—the rumour of His coming; the preparations for it; the eagerness to be first; the gestures and cries to excite notice and pity; the gracious touch; the joyful exclamations; the thankful returning home. And we sing, “Thy touch has still its ancient power.” Let us ask some simple questions as to the meaning of that.
I. What is the virtue now?—
1. Not bodily healing—that is to say, not as it was given then. May I not then ask the Lord to heal me of my sickness, or my brother of his? I cannot do better. Let me seek the Lord through the physicians. The prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up. But the healing shall neither be instant nor quite certainly given.
2. The virtue now is soul-healing. The miracles of the Lord Jesus seem to have had two ends.
(1) They were demonstrative; by them Jesus of Nazareth was approved of God.
(2) They were also illustrative. When prophets foretold that the lame should walk and the dumb sing, they foretold what was literally done; but their language was also a figurative description of what Jesus would do for men’s souls.
II. What is the border of the garment?—In Revelation 1. St. John records his vision of the Son of Man. It is a vision of our High Priest clothed with a garment down to the foot. He is our Aaron—our Melchizedek rather. The unction of the Spirit flows down to the skirts of His garment. Is there not a threefold hem?
1. Prayer: “Lord, be merciful to me, heal my soul, for I have sinned against Thee.” He who touches thus shall be made whole.
2. The Word of God: “Almighty God, who calledst Luke the physician to be an evangelist and physician of the soul, may it please Thee that by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him all the diseases of our souls may be healed.”
3. The Holy Sacraments: We pray to the Lord, who laid His hands upon little children and blessed them, to wash and sanctify our children with the Holy Ghost. And just as it is most important for recovery and health that wholesome food in plenty be given to the sick, so He has provided that in the Eucharist we eat His Flesh and live by Him: “The strengthening and refreshing of our souls by the Body and Blood of Christ.”
III. What is the touch now?—
1. Not the mere use of means. It is the touch of faith and prayer which is blest. No means of grace should be used without prayer. The Lord, at His baptism, was praying (Luke 3:21). Apostles did not confirm or ordain without prayer (Acts 8:15; Acts 14:23). Not a superstitious but a believing use of the means of grace brings healing. The difficulty of faith when Jesus was among men lay in believing that He who seemed to be man only was God. Its difficulty now is that the Lord is withdrawn by the cloud of His ascension. But faith triumphs now as it did then.
2. The touch is a personal application. “I will yet for this be inquired of to do it for them.” Heaven for the asking; but we must ask; and, God knows why, how many, alas, stop short of the asking!
(1) Jesus has entered here; we were born in a Christian country. How shall we answer for it? We have owned Bibles all our lives; the house of God has stood open for us; the Lord’s Day has proclaimed to us that Jesus passeth by. What if after all we are not healed?
(2) The touch of these sick needed not to be repeated; the soul’s touch does. Where first we knew health, there it is our delight to resort continually.
(3) May we see the force of example here? Did the woman (Mark 5:27) set this happy fashion, and these follow her? Do not let us leave others without the help of our example, openly making application to the Lord that healeth us.
(4) See the power of intercession. It was friends here who laid the sick in the Lord’s way and besought Him. Effectual fervent prayer availeth much.—H. Thompson.
OUTLINES AND COMMENTS ON THE VERSES
Mark 6:45. Changes in life.—How unexpected and disheartening a change! A calm sunset; a sober livery of evening clothing the quiet vales; the rose and purple transfiguration of the mountain-tops; the peaceful rocking of the slumberous waves; the joy of feeding the five thousand with loaves and fishes multiplying in their hands; and now, behold, disappointed hearts and a stern struggle in gathering darkness against threatening winds and waves! What a picture of life it is! Improbable and unexpected changes come, bringing unrest, tempting us to be unsubmissive or even disobedient. The loom of life has been arranged to produce a pattern to our liking; the swift shuttle of time, flying through the warp of our human affairs, weaves awhile a fabric pleasing to us and others, and then, an unseen hand silently shifting all the machinery of life, strange threads and sombre colours begin to weave upon a pattern not yet disclosed.
Mark 6:46. Christ’s prayer.—The prayer here referred to was not so much a series of requests or petitions, as a state of rapt contemplation of God’s presence and a profound communion with Him. He spent those quiet hours in a Divine meditation, drinking afresh at the Eternal Springs, listening to the inspirations of the Father’s voice. The claims of honour and ambition which men made for Him were put aside and clean forgotten, as He entered into the secret place of the Most High and dwelt under the shadow of the Almighty. He saw then with clear vision His work stretch out before Him as the Redeemer of men, and knew that He must be made perfect through suffering ere God or man could crown Him.—D. W. Forrest.
Christ lived by faith.—As the Son of Man, made like unto His brethren, He too lived by faith. He was ever going up into His mountain of devotion and bringing down power and encouragement. It mattered not how clamant appeared the demands for outward service, He allowed nothing to rob Him of that frequent solitary fellowship. He was never so busy that He had no time for retirement. Without it His Mission had never been accomplished. And without it our life in Him will never be strong or deep.—Ibid.
Foundations out of sight.—Sometimes, perhaps, you have been impressed by the courage with which a man stood forth for truth and justice against a gainsaying multitude, or by the patience and submission shewn by one whose earthly hopes were blasted. You marvelled; but these men had in many an hour taken counsel of themselves, they had seen visions of God, and were sure how He would have them go, and that He would go with them. They knew whom they had believed. The foundations of Divine faith and life are, like all foundations, out of sight; but the character that you see and admire is based on them, and draws its strength from them. Therefore to rest even from good works may be a duty. There are some sweet souls whose devotion is such that they never can think it right to pause in their service, who are always finding some new claim on their sympathy, until they exhaust themselves. This ceaseless energy is not good either for their sake or for the work’s sake. Christ rested, simply sent the crowds away, many of them unhelped, and went up into His mountain; but when He reappeared it was with a double blessing.—Ibid.
Mark 6:48. Unable to come to Christ.—We are sometimes in a like position with the disciples. In spite of all our efforts we cannot succeed in fighting our way to Him. In the midst of temptation, when our spirit seems held down and cannot soar to the joy of faith, or in severe bodily suffering, which envelops the soul with the black veil of spiritual darkness, there is still indeed deep down in the heart a believing desire for the Lord’s help, but dark thoughts of temptations rise like black and heavy waves between Him and ourselves. The soul cannot come to Christ: this sometimes lasts a long while, and even till the hour of death. Relatives may then be standing in deep grief round the death-bed, and anxiously asking: “Is it possible that this soul is to die in the darkness of doubt? Is this disciple to be forsaken by the Lord in his last hour?” Oh no; beloved, learn here that when disciples, in spite of all their efforts, cannot come to their Lord, He comes to them.—E. Lehmann.
Hindrances turned into helps.—The stormy sea has been used far too often as a symbol of a troubled life for us to hesitate a moment about making application of that scene to those times in our lives when events seem lawless, uncontrollable by ourselves, like that shifting, fluid, restless sea. Those waves seemed to present an insuperable barrier to Christ’s advance, but by the power of the life that is in Him He transformed them into a means of progress. Every billow was made by Him a stepping-stone towards His disciples. It is not a fanciful dream, but a sober fact, that many of His people, by the power of that self-same life, have triumphed over their troubles, and have found them helps heavenward. The spirit is mightier than the body, the living stronger than the dead. The Christly spirit is the conqueror of materialism in thought and in fact here and hereafter, and your Lord can make your very hindrances, as you call them, your stepping-stones heavenward.—A. Rowland.
Mark 6:49. Christ not recognised.—They did not recognise Him, because He came to them in another manner from that to which they were accustomed. They took Him for a spirit announcing to them, according to the popular superstition, death and destruction, and they cried out for fear. So greatly may Christ be misunderstood by His people. We always think of Him after one fashion, and picture His coming according to our thoughts. If He comes otherwise, and approaches us, not in the way of prosperity, but upon the storm-tossed sea, we do not recognise Him and are afraid. When He draws nigh with hands full of blessings, He is welcome; but when He comes upon the waves of tribulation, we think it cannot be the Saviour. And yet it is He. What seems to us unmixed misfortune is often our greatest blessing. When we are afraid of perishing, He is just upon His way to preserve us.—E. Lehmann.
Mark 6:50. Christ’s words of cheer.—These words of Christ’s, once uttered on the earth, are blent henceforth with heaven’s eternal echoes. When the storms of affliction are raging; when the blasts of adversity blow; when the bolts of bereavement are falling, in dark and dreary days; when strength and pride are prostrate, and the lamp of life burns low; when dear delights and darling dreams are vanishing away; when the light of hope is dim, and the heart is sick with sorrow,—then for a time it seems as though our sky were for ever overcast, and the waters of grief were closing for aye above our heads. But there is One who rules the tempest; there is guidance in the waste of woe; there is deliverance deeper than disaster; there is a voice commanding, “Peace! be still.” Anon the clouds shall clear, the day shall dawn, the countenance of God shall beam; for sadness, loss, and dire dismay are sent to man for discipline, not for destruction. Yet a little while, and the anguish that has pierced the breast shall purify the soul; the helplessness of self-despair shall change to the rest of reliance; all the solitude shall smile, all the shadows be bright, and all the sounds of frantic fear and desolating doubt be whelmed in the sweet whisper of the Voice Divine, “It is I; be not afraid.”—E. M. Geldart.
Mark 6:51. Lessons.—
1. It is commendable that they were affected with admiration and reverent fear of these great and miraculous works of Christ.
2. It is discommendable that they exceeded due measure in this astonishment and admiration of the miracles themselves, without due consideration of Christ’s Divine power by which they were wrought.—G. Petter.
Mark 6:52. Want of consideration.—They failed in this consideration to the very end, and it was not until after the Holy Ghost was given them that their faith became equal to the demands upon it. And so it seems to be with disciples always. Our trouble is the dull heart, the slow apprehension, the little faith. We do not consider the providence which has its witness in our past experience. We fail to apprehend our Lord’s meaning in the questions which our circumstances, our work in the world, our obligations and duties, are continually putting to us. We miss the Divine purpose in the emergencies, the exigencies, which from time to time confront us. Least of all do we suspect that they are opportunities of faith—occasions for the exercise of spiritual power. Missions, charities, social reformations, and all the various forms of Christian enterprise—these things languish or fail chiefly because we, the disciples, cannot seem to get rid of the idea that man lives and must live by bread alone.—W. T. Wilson.
Christ’s training.—It is one purpose of the training of the school of Christ to beget confidence in His power and grace; and often this is done by bringing to light our lurking unbelief. And that is an hour of blessing for us when fateful events put before our eyes, in unmistakable ways, our lack of confidence in the Lord, and shame us into higher faith.
Hardness of heart.—
1. Hardness of heart is a main cause hindering the fruit and profit which we should reap by the means of grace.
2. There may be and is even in good Christians (yea, in the best) some degree of hardness of heart.—G. Petter.
Lessons.—
1. The regenerate do in some measure see and feel their own hardness of heart, whereas the unregenerate have little or no feeling of it for the most part (Ephesians 4:19; Tim. Mark 4:2).
2. The godly not only feel but are unfeignedly grieved and humbled for their own hardness of heart; so are not the wicked.
3. The godly hate and constantly strive against it, using all good means to be rid of it, and to have their hearts softened more and more; not so the wicked, who bear with themselves, and willingly go on in hardness of heart (Romans 2:5).
4. Hardness of heart in the godly is a sin of infirmity; but in the wicked it is a reigning sin, bearing away, and prevailing in them.—Ibid.
Mark 6:53. Gennesaret—the modern el-Ghuweir—is that fine rich level tract of country which was the principal scene of our Lord’s earthly career. “Its nature is wonderful,” says Josephus, “as well as its beauty. Its soil is so fruitful that all sorts of trees can grow upon it; and the inhabitants accordingly plant on it all kinds. The temperature of the air is so well mixed that it agrees with the different kinds. Walnuts, which require cold air, flourish there in the greatest abundance; palm trees also, which grow best in heat; fig trees likewise, and olives, which require an air that is more temperate. One may call this place the Ambition of nature, where it constrains those plants which are naturally enemies to one another to agree together. It is a happy strife of the seasons, as if every one of them laid claim to this country, for it not only nourishes different sorts of autumnal fruit beyond men’s expectation, it preserves them a great while. It supplies men with the principal fruits, with grapes and figs, continually during ten months of the year, and the rest of the fruits, as they become ripe together, throughout the whole year.”
Mark 6:55. Helping others.—
1. In that this people shew their love by bringing the sick to Christ to be healed, we learn that it is a duty of love and mercy which we owe to such as are in misery and affliction, to afford them our best help and succour.
(1) We profess to be fellow-members of the same mystical body of Christ, the Church.
(2) We ourselves are subject to like afflictions.
2. How are we to help such as are in misery and affliction?
(1) By our prayers to God to give them strength, patience, deliverance, to sanctify to them all their troubles, etc.
(2) By comforting and strengthening them in all their troubles, that they may be better able to bear them with patience.
(3) By our best advice, counsel, and instruction.
(4) By providing for them the best outward means of comfort and help in our power.
3. True Christian love is diligent and painful in doing duties and services of love to others as occasion offers.
4. We ought wisely to observe and take the best opportunities of helping and doing good to such as are in misery and distress.—G. Petter.
Mark 6:56. Touching Christ.—The touch was—
1. Needy.
2. Wise.
3. Prompt.
4. Believing.
5. Personal.
6. Unrestricted.
7. Efficacious.—John Smith.
ILLUSTRATIONS TO CHAPTER 6
Mark 6:45-51. The direction of the wind when Jesus walked on the sea.—During a recent visit to the Sea of Galilee, I naturally spent some time over the Gospel narratives connected with this historic piece of water, studying them with the panorama of mountain, shore, ravine, and lake spread before me. It seemed to me that in one connexion at least—that of Christ’s walking on the water—most of the commentaries I had read were at fault. Almost without exception they assume that the “contrary wind” which beset the disciples was a westerly wind, preventing them from reaching Capernaum on the west side. Now I believe that a study of the three narratives (Matthew, Mark, and John) bears out that the wind was actually from the east, and that the disciples were really pulling away from Capernaum, trying to get back to Bethsaida. In the first place, where was the Bethsaida spoken of in Mark? Most take it as the Bethsaida on the western shore, and translate πρὸς Βηθσαϊδάν as “towards Bethsaida”; but πρὸς may mean, as in the margin, “over against,” in which case the town must be sought for on the eastern side. Mr. Haskett Smith, in his latest edition of Porter’s admirable Handbook, p. 253, says that the true site of this Bethsaida is a village named Ms’aidieh—a name virtually identical in meaning—situated on the fertile plain of el-Batîheh, exactly opposite to Tell Hûm, which he identifies with Capernaum. The hills immediately behind this ruin are generally admitted to have been the most likely scene of the miraculous feeding of the five thousand. If this be the true site, as there is every reason to believe, then the narrative becomes quite clear. At the conclusion of the feeding of the five thousand, then, Christ sent His disciples on board the ship with the intention of crossing with them to the other side. It is said, He “constrained them” to go on board. Why did He need to do so? Many say they too were carried away by the enthusiasm of the crowd, and would have liked to make Him a king (John 6:15), and the supposition is probable; but it may further be that, experienced fishermen as they were, they knew the signs of an approaching storm, and marvelled that their Master should compel them to go on board at such a time. Before a tempest on the lake there is usually a great sultriness in the air, the sky is murky and filled with misty, indefinitely shaped clouds, while the sun loses its brilliancy and appears of a pale sickly yellow. But Christ gave no reasons beyond the directions to pick Him up farther along the shore. Their ship (τὸ πλοῖον) was anchored a little off the shore, and communication was kept up by means of a single “punt” or “skiff,” πλοιάριον (John 6:22). Having got on board, the disciples sent back the skiff, and waited for their Master. But the storm burst upon them, and blew them far out across the lake towards the west. It was my good fortune while in Galilee to witness one of the most violent tempests seen for many years. I am aware that the majority of squalls come down the Wady Hammâm and are westerly in character; but the storm I witnessed came from the south, and after blowing for half an hour in that direction changed to the north-east. I was assured by the boatmen on the lake who had been in this tempest that the only resource for a boat caught in such a squall is to let her drift, till the first violence is spent, when rowing may be attempted. Such was, no doubt, the case with the disciples. They simply had to “scud” before the seas and furious wind, till the initial fury had somewhat spent itself, when they took to the oars and began the weary work of rowing back to Bethsaida. This they continued till the fourth watch of the night, toiling against the heavy breakers and, perhaps, dashing rain. But their toil was in vain; they drifted more than they rowed. Christ saw them βασανιζομένους ἐν τῷ ἐλαύνειν, and came walking on the water to meet them. Why did they not see Jesus till He was “passing them by”? (Mark 6:48). Simply because, if our supposition is correct, their backs were turned towards Him as He was coming with the wind, while they were toiling at the oars against the wind. Immediately on receiving Jesus into the boat, John tells us, “the ship was at the land whither they went” (Mark 6:21). The Evangelist gives no indication that the incident is to be regarded as a miracle, nor need we necessarily suppose it to have been one. John says they had rowed twenty-five or thirty furlongs when they were met by Jesus. But as they were drifting more than they rowed, they were close on the other side when Christ appeared. From Ms’aidîeh to Capernaum is just about twenty-eight furlongs, so that when they took Jesus into the boat, and the storm was hushed, it was straightway that their ship was ἐπὶ τῆς γῆς, i.e. touching the shelving, gravelly beach. The shore had been obscured before, partly by the gloom of night and partly by the spray and spindrift, which is such a feature of these Galilean storms. In conclusion, I may say that the homiletic value of this exegesis appears to me greater than on the common view. The disciples in this case were not rowing away from Christ, but, filled with a strong love for their Master, and in apprehension at leaving Him alone on the desolate shore, were doing all they could to pull back to Jesus, even though at the expense of enormous labour to themselves. It is a splendid instance of devotion, and shews that the fishermen had risen much in moral courage since the time of their former craven fear when Jesus was on board, and when He stilled the tempest.—G. A. Frank Knight.
Mark 6:47-51. Two aspects of life.—In a gallery in Italy there are two pictures side by side by different artists. One represents a sea tossed by storms. Dark clouds hang over it, and the lightning-bolts pierce the sky, and the wrathful waves roll in fury. In the seething waters a dead human face is seen. The other represents a sea similarly storm-tossed; but in the midst of the angry waters is a rock, and in the rock a cleft with green herbage and flowers, and amid these a dove quietly sitting on her nest. These two pictures tell the whole story of human life in this world. The first is a story of life without Christ, unblessed by His presence and peace. There is storm everywhere, with no quiet shelter. The other shews the peace which Christ gives. There is no less storm. The waves roll as high. But there is peace. The rock represents Christ; it is in the cleft of the rock that the peace is found.
Man’s impotence.—The bowling wind, the raging waves, and the tossing, tremulous ship taught them what they needed to feel—their impotence. Ah! man in his season of prosperity and peace is prone to pride, disposed to cherish an overweening estimate of his character and position. It is a blessing when, even by a terrible tempest of adversity, this insuperable bar to improvement is removed, and the man knows himself. On one occasion the great Napoleon arranged to review his fleet off Boulogne. Seeing that a severe storm was impending, the admiral in command sent word to the Emperor, advising that the position of the ships should be altered. Napoleon demanded obedience to his first directions, and the vice-admiral obeyed. The storm burst in terrific violence. Several gun-sloops were wrecked, and over two hundred soldiers and sailors were obliged to battle with the angry sea for life, and few escaped. The Emperor at once ordered the boats out to rescue the drowning men, but he was told that no boat could live in such a sea. Then, in the strength of his determination, he ordered a company of grenadiers to man his boat, and springing into it, he exclaimed: “Follow me, my brave fellows! Push on! Push on!” In vain the poor soldiers struggled at the oars. “Push on!” cried Napoleon. “Do you not hear their cries? Oh, this sea! this sea! It rebels against our power, but it may be conquered!” Scarcely had the words escaped his lips when a mighty billow struck the boat, and sent it and its occupants with terrible force high up the shore, leaving them like a stranded waif. Thus was the proud monarch taught his impotence. Thus also is self-confident, self-important, self-conceited man often driven back by life’s storms—driven back upon the very first principles of a truly religious life—conscious weakness and necessary dependence.—J. H. Hitchens, D.D.
Divine help.—A lifeboat, with its precious cargo, was pitching and rolling in a fearful storm, when the old captain cried aloud to all, “Hold on! hold on!” The response came, “Ay, ay!” But there was one little voice which, in the sadness of despair, exclaimed, “I can’t hold on!” Instantly the strong arm of the captain was thrown around that trembling child, and he was safe. So when Jesus sees and hears that, notwithstanding our utmost efforts, we feel we need Him, and crave His Divine help, He hastens to our relief.—Ibid.
Thought for sailors.—As Christ went to the relief of His distressed disciples, so we who profess to value the religion of Jesus should be willing to do all we can for our sons of the sea. They are a noble race, our sailors. They are ever ready to do a kindness to a distressed fellow-voyager; they have extraordinary opportunities for spreading the truth; and they are called to exercise an untold amount of self-denial. A ship was once in distress. Though the angry sea dashed and foamed with terrible fury, yet some noble sailors put off to rescue the ship’s crew. After prolonged effort and peculiar danger, they succeeded in bringing the whole company safely to shore. A man of wealth, standing by the water’s side, as spectator of the men’s heroism, was moved “by the way they risked their lives. Pulling out his purse, he offered all the gold it contained to the coxswain and his men. The gift, however, was respectfully declined, the boatswain saying, “No, sir; we would save a man for nothing any day.” Brethren, shall we be backward when the souls of such brave men are to be saved?—Ibid.
Difficulty melting before endeavour.—How often hast thou found thyself, at the entrance into a duty, becalmed as a ship, which, at first setting sail, hath hardly wind to swell its sails, while under the shore and shadow of the trees, but meets a fresh gale of wind when got into the open sea? Yea, didst thou never launch out to duty, as the apostles did to sea, with the wind in thy face, as if the Spirit of God, instead of helping thee on, meant to drive thee back, and yet hast found Christ walking to thee before the duty was done, and a prosperous voyage made of it at last?—W. Gurnall.
Mark 6:48. Toil.—Half the ingenuity of mankind is expended in the attempt to avoid toil. The Lord’s constraint, then, which sometimes snatches us away from pleasant ease and compels us to endure some hardness of toil, is a thing to be thankful for. No doubt Robert and Mary Moffat, among the idolatrous and warlike Bechuanas of South Africa, needed the stern discipline of toiling and fruitless years as a preparation for the larger successes of later times. The ten long years of darkness, without a glimmer of the dawn, tried and proved a faith which was imperishable. Before one convert rewarded their labours, a friend wrote to Mary Moffat to ask what thing of use she could send to her, and was answered, “Send us a communion service; we shall want it some day.”
Toilers.—It is an interesting thing to look out from a suburban railway train, which enters London or any other large town on a high level, and as one rapidly passes along to catch a flying glimpse at the busy life beneath. Here one gazes down into a crowded street with its bustling throng—there one sees a factory with the spindles and machinery revolving behind the windows; or it may be we catch sight of the roaring fires of a foundry, or the humble toil of a washerwoman. But one general characteristic strikes the mind. It is a sense of the busy activity of men’s lives—that they are “toiling.” Now there is no reason why the idea of work should be an unhappy one. God in mercy has given mankind work to do, to make us useful and happy, and keep us out of harm; but the word “toil” implies the idea of over-work, of too much pressure, of too little time for rest and leisure; and many an excellent and hard-working man is in these days pressed beyond his powers, which is a great evil.—Dr. Hardman.