James Nisbet's Church Pulpit Commentary
Mark 4:35-41
CHRIST IN THE TEMPEST
‘And the same day, when the even was come, He saith unto them, Let us pass over unto the other side.… What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?’
Let us see what lessons concerning Christ and His Church may be gathered from this incident.
I. The terror of the disciples.—The Rationalism of the present day sees nothing in the narrative but the account of a passing squall. Yet, if this be so, is it not strange that all the Synoptists notice and record the terror of the disciples, which one would certainly not expect, inasmuch as these men, some of them born on the shores of the lake, had been accustomed to such sudden storms from early life?
II. The calm of the Master.—In His sleeping we have an evidence of His perfect humanity. This sleep of Christ illustrates the sleep which God gives His beloved ones. Then, mark the self-possession of His awaking. How startled most men would have been, had they been disturbed as He was, with that piercing cry, ‘Master, carest Thou not that we perish?’ But not so Christ, the God-man. In the midst of the wild disturbance and confusion around Him, He sits calm and self-possessed, ready to give counsel and comfort. Silent and trustful the disciples should have been, because of the certainty that all would be well, while the Lord of the winds and waves was with them in the ship. So should it be with the Christian, however great and at times overwhelming the troubles of his life may be. At such times, the Saviour would say to us, ‘Think of My love, and all it led Me to undergo for you; and is not that the pledge that “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee”?’
III. The ship a type of the Church.—In the ship Christians of every age have loved to see a type of the Church. Christianity has passed through many storms, which seemed to threaten total destruction. There were—
(a) The storms of political oppression, seen first in the repeated attempts to suppress religion by force in the first three centuries; then came the tempest of Mahomedism, which was followed in its turn by the storm of the French Revolution, when religion had to encounter the force of elements that threatened entire destruction.
(b) The waves of intellectual opposition and revolt, as exampled in the pitiless dialectics of the Alexandrian Philosophy; in the Renaissance, which was (at its first appearance) but a pure enthusiasm for Paganism; and then (in later times) through the rise of Deism in England and France, which was speedily followed by the Atheism that produced the French Revolution.
(c) The tempests of moral degeneracy, through which the Church of Christ has passed; for example, the scandals of the Corinthian Church.
Yet the Church has weathered all these storms; and how? By appealing to her Master, Who is always in her midst, even though at times He might seem ‘asleep on a pillow.’ What has been, may still be: ‘He is the same yesterday, to-day, and for ever.’
IV. True also of individuals.—Many storms come down upon our lives:—
(a) From without, in a hopeless sickness, or a pinching poverty, or the blighting of some hope, or the faithlessness of some trusted friend.
(b) From within, from the strong tide of temptation to sin, or from the many harassing doubts and difficulties in religion, which so often threaten to shipwreck faith. None of these storms need ovewhelm us, for there is still One in our midst Who can say, ‘Peace, be still.’
Seek to be with Him, to recognise Him, to follow Him, to trust Him, to love Him: and, one by one, the troubles and difficulties which threaten to overwhelm will pass away.
Rev. G. W. Barrett.
Illustrations
(1) ‘In the time of our Lord, the Lake of Galilee was ploughed by vessels of many descriptions, “from war-ships of the Romans to the rough fisher-boats of Bethsaida, and the gilded pinnaces from Herod’s palace at Tiberias.” To-day, although the lake teems with fish, as of old, only three rickety boats are to be found. Nor can we wonder, if it be true that an exorbitant tax, equivalent to about £100, is levied by the Government on each boat. Of the most primitive type are the boats at present on the lake, and they doubtless recall to us the ancient form of boat which experience has proved to be most suitable to the peculiarities of this inland sea. They are rigged with a lateen sail, in shape like a bird’s wing, having the greatest width of canvas at the foot, and tapering off to a point at the peak. The upper part thus offers but little resistance to the wind, and so lessens the danger of capsizing in a squall, which would be extreme with the ordinary form of sail. On all sides mountains surround the lake, and render it liable to sudden storms. Gusts of wind sweep down the ravines, which act like “gigantic funnels” to draw down the cold winds from the mountains, and lash the placid surface into a fury in a few moments. At the stern is a small raised deck, where the steersman sits on a leather cushion. Here, it is stated by Mark in the graphic description of the stilling of the tempest, our Lord lay, when there came down a storm of wind on the lake. “He was in the stern, asleep on the cushion” (Mark 4:38, r.v.).’
(2) ‘Like as God said in the Creation. “Let there be light,” and there was light, so Christ now says, “Peace,” and the noise of contending elements ceases; also “Be still,” and the agitated waves sink into instantaneous rest; and the parallelism suggests that the authority in both cases is the same in kind.’