Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit · Sermon No. 1686
Delivered on Thursday Evening, October 6, 1881
“The men marveled, saying, What manner of Man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him!” Matthew 8:27.
“And they feared exceedingly, and said one to another, What manner of Man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” Mark 4:41.
THIS story of the storm upon the lake is wonderfully full of spiritual interest. Not only does it, literally, show to us the Divine power of our blessed Master in lulling the storm, rendered the more conspicuous by being placed, side by side, with the human weakness which made Him sleep in the ship upon a pillow, but, spiritually, it is a kind of ecclesiastical history, a miniature outline of the story of the Church in all ages. No, the teaching ends not when you have read the incident in that light—it also contains a suggestive forecast of the story of every man who is making the spiritual voyage in company with Jesus.
Notice, first, how it is a kind of ecclesiastical history. There is Christ in the vessel with His disciples. What is that but a Church with its pastor? We see in the Church a vessel bearing a rich cargo, steering for a desired haven and fitted out for fishing on the road, should fair opportunity occur. Her being upon a sea shows her to be here below, subject to trial, suffering, labor and peril. I scarcely know of any more apt picture of a Church than a ship upon the treacherous Galilean sea with Jesus and His disciples sailing in it.
After a while a storm comes—this we may safely reckon upon. Whatever ship makes a fair voyage, with a favoring wind, the ship of the Church of Jesus Christ never will. She has her calms, but these last not forever—her sail is sure to be weather-beaten at one time or another—and the occasions are seldom far apart. The vessel which has Jesus for its Captain is destined to feel the tempest. Christ has not come to send peace on earth, but a sword. This is His own declaration and He knows His own intent. Every sail of the good ship which bears the flag of the Lord High Admiral of our fleet must be beaten with the wind and every plank in her must be tried by the waves.
To Christ’s Church there are many storms and some of them of the most terrible character. Of heresy—ah, how near to wrecking has she been with the false doctrines of Gnosticism, Arianism, Popery and Rationalism! Of persecution she has constant experience, but sometimes exceedingly vehement has the hurricane been. In the early stages of Church history, the pagan persecutions of Rome followed thick and fast upon each other and when Giant Pagan had emptied out all his fury, there came a worse tyrant whose magical arts raised hurricanes of wind against the good ship—there sat, at Rome, a harlot who persecuted the saints exceedingly—being drunk with their blood.
Then there raged a cyclone which almost drove the boat out of the water and drenched and well-near drowned her crew—a fierce cyclone beat upon the royal vessel, so that the waves threatened to swallow her up! Tears and blood covered the saints as with a salt and crimson spray! Hers was no pleasure trip—she went forth like the lifeboat, fashioned for the purpose of riding out the storm. The true ship of the Lord was, and is, and will be in a storm until the Lord shall come—and then there shall be for it no further wave of trial, but the sea of glass forever!
Note, again, that while this storm was roaring worse and worse, the Lord was in the ship, but He seemed to be asleep. So has it often been. No Providence delivered the persecuted. No marvelous manifestations of the Spirit scattered the heresy. The Christ was in the Church, but He was in the back part, with His head upon a pillow, asleep. You all know the portions of Church history which this illustrates.
Then came distress. The people in the vessel began to be alarmed. They were afraid that they should utterly perish. And do you wonder at it when the peril was so great? That distress led to prayer. Mighty prayer has often been produced
by mighty trial. Oh, how slack has the Church been in the presentation of her spiritual offering until the Lord has sent fire upon her and that fire has seemed to kindle her frankincense so that it has begun to smoke towards Heaven! Prayer was produced by distress and prayer brought distress to an end!
Then the Master rose up and displayed His power and Godhead. You know how He has done so in reformations and revivals time after time. He has chided the unbelief of His trembling saints and then He has hushed the winds and the waves—and there has been a time of peace for His poor, weather-beaten Church—a period free from bloodshed and heresy, an era of progress and peace. The Church has a history which has many a time repeated itself. If you take an interest in the navigation of that wondrous vessel which carries Christ and all His chosen, you will never have to complain of lack of incidents!