Neither be ye of doubtful mind
A new parable
Our Lord here crushes a whole world of meaning into a single word, which, as we study it, resolves itself into a bright, impressive picture or parable.
The phrase really comes to this: “Do not toss about in the windy offing, when you may ride safely in the sheltered haven.” And if we take it in connection with what goes before and what comes after, we find that the complete parable runs thus: “Do not toss about on the wide dangerous sea of Care, on which so many make shipwreck, but rather take shelter in the safe and tranquil harbour of Trust in God.” Had our Lord paused to expand the parable, and had He thrown it into the form which most of His parables assume, He might have used some such words as these: “ The Kingdom of God is like unto a large and tranquil harbour, into which all who sail across the stormy sea of life may enter and be at rest.” Now the calm and simple ideal of life which Christ here holds up before us is one that has a special claim on us, and a special charm, in days such as these when most men are seeking outward good--seeking wealth and worldly advancement--with a passionate and feverish eagerness. Who does not long, at least at times, to escape
The heavy trouble, the bewildering care
That weighs us down who live and earn our bread?
Who is not weary of the strain, the waste, the ungenerous rivalry, the intense and protracted drudgery which what men call “ success in life” demands? Who does not see that the pursuit of what we call “comfort” is well-nigh taking all comfort out of our days? Who does not admit, in any moment of cool reflection, that the general homage to wealth is becoming a degrading and unmanly idolatry, inducing false estimates of character, and leading men to value the means of living above the true ends of life? What we should admire in our neighbours, what we should chiefly aim at for ourselves, is not a gay and wealthy outside of circumstance, but noble character--virtue, wisdom, piety, inward worth. And this is the aim, the ideal, which the Lord Jesus sets before us. He bids us seek first the Kingdom of God; and the Kingdom of God is within us, not without. He would have us cultivate those graces of spiritual character which fit us both to meet any circumstances and changes of circumstances in this life, and to enter with the joy of a foreseen triumph on the dark and narrow avenue which leads to the life to come. If we take His counsel, He promises us an absolute freedom from care. He assures us that we shall ride safely in a sheltered port instead of tossing on the heaving storm-swept’ sea. Not that He prohibits care and thought. A man must take thought, must study and plan and contrive, if he is to be a wise man. We may make the voyages which the necessities of life demand, and bring home much store of merchandise; but then, we are to have a home, “a city of the soul” to which we may repair; and when we reach it, we are not to cast anchor in the windy offing, but to take refuge in the tranquil haven. That is to say, we are to attend to the duties and labours of life, attend to them with diligence, give our best thought and care to them; but, when these duties and labours are discharged, we are not to vex our souls with an incessant anxiety as to the issue of our toils; we are to leave that with God, and not to be careful because He cares for us. So, again, forethought is no more forbidden than thought. A wise man, a man with “discourse of reason,” i.e., a man in whom reason is not dumb and inert, must “look before and after.” There would be no unity in his life, no continuous development and activity, no linking on of month to month and year to year, if he did not look forward and scheme for the future as well as for the present. What Christ forbids is so looking onward to to-morrow as to cloud to-day, so anticipating the future as to darken the present. And this is the very point at which we commonly fail. To-day may be well enough, we admit; or, at the worst, we could get through its tasks and endure its trials. But what of to-morrow? What of the future? How shall we meet the toils and losses and troubles we foresee? Now it is from this pernicious habit of “borrowing trouble from the future,” as though we had not enough of it in the present, that Christ would save us. “Trust in God for the future,” He says; “Do your duty today, and leave to-morrow with Him. And let this trust be your tranquil haven, your harbour of refuge, whenever the waves of Care run high.” Rest and refit in the harbour to-night; and if, when the morning breaks, you have to sail out into a stormy sea, you will at least be in a better condition to meet it. (S. Cox, D. D.)
Possessions and prospects
Perhaps I am speaking to some child of poverty. I remember a beautiful story applicable to you. The late Lady Huntingdon, passing by a low, mean-looking cottage one day, heard a faint, soft sound inside, and drew up to the door, when she heard a voice uttering these words, “O my God, I thank Thee that I have all this--the Lord Jesus now and heaven at last.” Thought the listener, what can this mean? Curiosity is strong; and giving the door a little touch, she saw an aged one--a poor woman, eighty years of age--with a pitcher of water and a crust, and her hands raised in the attitude of thanksgiving, and her words were, “O Lord, I thank Thee that I have all this, and the Lord Jesus Christ, and heaven at last.” Rest in His word. “My God shall supply all your need.” Oh, sweet the scant supply where there is a confiding, joyous heart! Birds of song sing as merrily just before their breakfast, though they don’t know where it is to come from, as they do when they have got it. And the God who watches over the bird will not neglect you. “Lacked ye anything?” said the Lord to the seventy, who had been sent out without any worldly emoluments; and they answered, “No, Lord.” Many a saint at the close of his pilgrimage can say the same; can say, “Notwithstanding all the vicissitudes and changes and losses that I have endured, God has given me food and raiment, and I have, not wanting much, wanted for nothing.” (J. Denham Smith.)
Confidence in God
“Never did man die of hunger who served God faithfully,” Cuthbert would say, when nightfall found them supperless in the waste. “Look at that eagle overhead! God can feed us through him if He will”--and once, at least, he owed his meal to a fish that the scared bird let fall. A snowstorm drove his boat on the coast of Fife. “The snow closes the road along the shore,” moaned his comrades; “the storm bars our way over sea.” “There is still the way of heaven that lies open,” said Cuthbert. (J. R. Green, “Short History. ”)