Luke 6:1-2

And it came to pass on the second Sabbath after the first, that He went through the corn-fields

The second-first Sabbath

This is a very difficult phrase, and all explanations of it must be conjectural, as there is apparently no Sabbath designated by this name in any Rabbinical writing.

One of the two following explanations seems most likely:

1. Either that it was the Sabbath which occurred during the Octave of Pentecost--the greatest Sabbath of the year being the Passover Sabbath (“that Sabbath day was an high day”-- John 19:31); and the one occurring at the next greatest feast, that of Pentecost, would be the next greatest, or next-first, or “second-first,” the Passover Sabbath being the first-first, or by far the greatest. The feast of Tabernacles would be the third.

2. But very many take it to be a Sabbath at the Passover, either the first Sabbath after the second day of that festival, from which the Sabbaths to Pentecost are numbered, or the last day of the feast, which was to be observed as a Sabbath. Whichever of these is the true meaning, it appears to me that St. Luke does not designate this day as the second-first, to mark the date when the transaction occurred, but to mark the peculiar holiness of the day. The disciples were, in their estimation, breaking no ordinary Sabbath, but one of the most sacred of all. (M. F. Sadler, M. A.)

Pleaeing Sabbath impressions

That Sunday of my childhood; the marvellous stillness of that day over all Lichfield town hill; that wondrous ringing of the bell; the strange interpretation that my young imagination gave to the crowing of the cock and to the singing of the birds; that wondering look which I used to have into things; that strange lifting halfway up into inspiration, as it were; that sense of the joyful influence that sometimes brooded down like a stormy day, and sometimes opened up like a gala-day in summer on me, made Sunday a more effectually marked day than any other of all my youthful life, and it stands out as clear as crystal until this hour. It might have been made happier and better if there had been a little more adaptation to my disposition and my wants; but, with all its limitations, I would rather have the other six days of the week weeded out of my memory than the Sabbath of my childhood. And this is right. Every child ought to be so brought up in the family, that when he thinks of home the first spot on which his thought rests shall be Sunday, as the culminating joy of the house-hold. (H. W. Beecher.)

Exemplary Sabbath-keeping

The Mayflower a name now immortal, had crossed the ocean. It had borne its hundred passengers over the vast deep, and after a perilous voyage had reached the bleak shores of New England, in the beginning of winter. The spot which was to furnish a home and a burial-place was now to be selected. The shallop was unshipped, but needed repairs, and sixteen weary days elapsed before it was ready for service. Amidst ice and snow it was then sent out, with some half a dozen pilgrims, to find a suitable place where to land. The spray of the sea, says the historian, froze on them, and made their clothes like coats of iron. Five days they wandered about, searching in vain for a suitable landing-place, a storm came on; the snow and the rain fell; the sea swelled; the rudder broke; the mast and the sail fell overboard. In this storm and cold, without a tent, a house, or the shelter of a rock, the Christian Sabbath approached, the day which they regarded as holy unto God; a day on which they were not to “do any work.” What should be done? As the evening before the Sabbath drew on they pushed over the surf, entered a fair sound, sheltered themselves under the lee of a rise of land, kindled a fire, and on that little island they spent the day in the solemn worship of their Maker. On the next day their feet touched the rock, now sacred as the place of the landing of the pilgrims. Nothing more strikingly marks the character of this people than this act, and I do not know that I could refer to a better illustration, even in their history, showing that theirs was the religion of principle, and that this religion made them what they were. (A. Barnes, D. D.)

The corn-field

There are many lessons that the corn-fields teach. The world, children, is one great cornfield, and you are growing in it. Now a question arises, are you growing there as corn, or as the poppy, the cockle, and the blue-bottle? Whoever passes by, through the corn-fields, sees the purple flower, and admires it. But the farmer loves it not, for its seeds contain a noxious element, which greatly injures the corn around, and fills his flour with black specks. When ripe, the capsule contains black glossy aromatic seeds, and in them is the mischievous saponine. While the wheat has been ripening wholesome grain, the corn-cockle has been maturing poisonous seeds. Both plants drank of the same dew, basked in the same sunlight, were fanned by the same breezes; the wheat made little show of flower, but has produced a precious grain; the cockle blazed with beauty, and ripens an injurious seed. I would have you, children, make up your minds early what you are going to be in God’s field, wheat or poppies; whether you are going to yield grain or blossom; whether you will be profitable or ornamental. I speak first to you girls. You will be called to live in the world, and to be, to some extent, ornaments in it. You will dress more gaily than boys, wear smart gowns, and ribbons, and feathers, whereas boys will clothe themselves in sober colours. There is, therefore, much more danger in your growing up to be cockle, and poppy, and blue-flower. I think that all the most showy flowers are without edible fruit. Dress modestly, becomingly, and prettily, against that there is no law; but as you value all that is holy, all that is eternal, do not let dress occupy your thoughts. There was a Duke of Tyrol, who went by the name of Frederick with the Empty Pockets. He had a little money in the coffer, so he spent it all in gilding the roof of the balcony that overhung the public square in Innsbruck. It is there still, with some of the gold still adhering to the tiles. There are plenty of men who act like Frederick with the Empty Pockets; all they have is laid on as exterior gilding, everything goes in making a great display. If they have money, it is exhibited in the most offensive and vulgar profusion; if they have a little learning, it is lugged in by the ears on all occasions; if they have some position it is made the most of. Gathered in bundles to be burned! Yes, that is the terrible end of the weed. The great lesson that I wish to impress on you, children, to day, is, to live for the future, and not for the present; to be concerned what fruit you shall bring forth, not what show you shall make. (S. Baring-Gould, M. A.)

Christ arguing with the Pharisees

We should naturally wish to know how a Divine Being would argue with men. We should expect that His arguments would be clear, convincing, and unanswerable, and, consequently, of that kind best adapted to the subject. In such expectation we shall not be disappointed.

1. Against the opinions of the Pharisees respecting the Sabbath, our Saviour’s first argument was taken from the example of David. David, by partaking of the shew-bread, had broken a positive law; but the disciples of Jesus had violated no law.

2. The second argument is still more pointed. The priests in the temple service did not observe rest on the Sabbath; for, according to the strict letter of the law, their duties could not be performed without violating the Sabbath; yet no blame was attached to them.

3. The third argument advances a step higher. God prefers the duties of humanity to positive commandments, when it is impossible to observe both these. Therefore, even if the plucking and eating of ears of corn on the Sabbath had been prohibited, the mercy of God would have overlooked it in a case of necessity.

4. The fourth argument was, that the Sabbath was made for man; therefore it was lawful to do good on the Sabbath. Thus we see that, according to our Saviour, no act of necessity nor of mercy is a breach of the Sabbath. (J. Thomson, D. D.)