Luke 8:22-25 - Homiletics

Storm and calm.

"He entered into a boat, himself and his disciples." The association of Christ with the beat, with which we are so familiar in the gospel history, has been preserved in much of the poetry, the literature, and the art of the Church. A very old seal-ring represents the Church as a ship struggling against the winds, supported by a great fish in the sea beneath, and with two doves sitting on its mast and prow. The shape often given to Christian places of worship in the early ages was that of a beat. And the idea has entered into all Christian song and thought, Keble catches up the tone of centuries when he inserts the verse in the evening hymn—

''Thou Framer of the light and dark,

Steer through the tempest thine own ark:

Amid the howling wintry sea

We are in port if we have thee."

The key-note to all this symbolism is given in the incident reported in these verses.

I. IT IS A PICTURE OF LIFE . The sea was at rest when the disciples took Jesus as he was. As they sailed on the smooth waters the weary Prophet fell asleep. On a sudden down comes the squall—one of those furious hurricanes which sweep across a lake six hundred feet lower than the ocean, with gigantic funnels supplied by deep ravines cut by the action of wild watercourses. All is changed; there is heard now only the despairing cry, "Master , carest thou not that we perish?' Such is lifo: changeful, now the smiling sunshine with the clear blue sky, again the driving cloud and rain, with angry waves breaking over the craft. Job was at rest; his sons and daughters feasting together; he himself, with abundance and peace, fearing God and eschewing evil, when the one terrible day came on which messenger chased messenger, completing a tale of destruction and bereavement. How often does destruction fall as in a moment! The fitful weather of the inland lake is a type of the fitful climate, followed by the rapidly dissolving scenery, of the present time. How foolish to set the affection on things below! How sad when there is no Christ in the ship! when there is no fixture, among the sundry and manifold changes of this world, where the only true joys are to be found!

II. IT IS A SIGN OF CHRIST . The stilling of the tempest is a miracle. We seem to see the sleeping Master quietly raising himself, looking around, meeting the gaze of the all but frantic men, standing erect in the boat, sending forth the majestic, "Peace; be still!" "What manner of man is this, for he commandeth even the winds and the water, and they obey him?" Yes; what manner of man! He is himself the miracle, the One "made of God to us Wisdom, and Righteousness, and Sanctification, and Redemption." The work is the sign of himself in that deeper work in which he is manifest as the Saviour of sinners. What is that work but the rebuking of the storm of passion, and all the influences which are adverse to peace of mind and holiness of life? "Be still," is the Christ-word; "Peace to you," is the Christ-breath. In the world of man, "he maketh the storm a calm, so that the waves thereof are still. Then are they glad because they are quiet; so he bringeth them unto their desired haven" Is not this the experience of every truly converted life? Miss Havergal's verse expresses it.

"There were strange soul-depths, restless, vast and broad,

Unfathomed as the sea;

An infinite longing for an infinite stilling.

But now thy love is perfect filling:

Lord Jesus Christ, my Lord, my God,

Thou, thou art enough for me!"

And so for all the days. "Let Christ be awakened," writes Augustine, "Though the tempest beat into, yet it win not fill, thy ship; thy faith will now command the winds and the waves, and thy danger will be over." Oh, see to it, that thou take Christ into thy heart, even as he is. Blessed for thee, O needy sinner, when the Master is really the occupant of thy life, thy "present Help in trouble."

III. IT IS A REPROOF OF LITTLE FAITH . "Why are ye so fearful?" is the part of Jesus' word reported by Matthew. Why, when you know who is with you; when you know that he is there, that it is not some enemy, some devil, that has the control of elements, of circumstances? Why are ye so easily cast down? Why do ye give way so readily? Why do ye fall into such despendencies, such paroxysms of grief? May we not, in many an hour of shrinking, if not of terror, hear this "why" sounding in our hearts? "Where is your faith?" is the part of the word reported by Luke. Assume that you have it, that you are really trusting in Christ as your Master: whither does the faith vanish when you are so fearful? Is it not the moment of trial that proves the readiness and serviceableness of the faith? Do we not often need to seek it when we have occasion for it? Verily a question most pertinent to us in the varying circumstances and demands of our life. Think, think over the adverb, so suggestive, "Where is your faith?.