Walking upon the Sea

S. Mark vi. 45–52

The miraculous multiplication of the loaves had produced such an effect upon the multitudes that they believed the long-expected Messiah had come, and were eager “to take Him by force and make Him a king.” The crown which they would have offered Him contrasted greatly with that which He knew that He must wear; and though He had vanquished once and for all every temptation to mere earthly greatness, the very presentation of the offer drove Him to seek fresh strength to resist in prayer and communion with the Father.

The north-eastern shore of the lake was especially suited for retirement. It is the exact counterpart of the northwestern; and together, it has been well observed, they reflect “that union of energy and rest, of active labour and deep devotion, which is the essence of Christianity, as it was in the life of Him in Whom that union was first taught and shown.”

He was then in the neighbourhood of Bethsaida-Julias, on the further side, but before He could obtain the undisturbed solitude which He sought it was necessary to dismiss both the multitudes and His disciples. We may well suppose that those whose enthusiasm had just been so largely kindled would be unwilling to depart, but we are not told of any resistance on their part. With the disciples, however, it was different, for it is said that He “constrained” them to get into the boat: it implies that pressure was necessary to overcome their reluctance. Every consideration must have suggested the propriety of their remaining. He was surrounded by strangers; the country was bleak and desolate; the night was fast closing in; and to do as He bade them was to leave Him without any means of transport across the lake. But His word was law; and after remonstrating they did as He commanded them. Could they have foreseen what awaited them they would have been filled with dismay. He Who sees the end from the beginning foresaw it; but He foresaw also the deliverance, and so bade them go. Their destiny was the other Bethsaida, close to Capernaum, distant some forty 2 or fifty furlongs — from five to six English miles.

After their departure Jesus ascended the mountain, and continued a long time in prayer. It was a stormy night, but there was a Paschal moon, and as the clouds broke, and the light fell upon the lake, He saw the disciples in distress from contrary winds. Eight or nine hours had passed, and they had accomplished little more than half their voyage. It required all their efforts to keep their boat from being driven back by the hurricane, and dashed to pieces on the rugged shore; but “about the fourth watch,” as S. Mark says, adopting the Roman division of the night, if, as is commonly 3 supposed, it differed from the Jewish, Jesus went to them walking upon the sea. Their faith had been sorely tried; their memories would go back to that other storm on the self-same lake, which He had hushed at the mere bidding of His word: but now for hours He had left them in peril and danger. Was it a superstitious fear that some mischance had befallen Him, and that death had robbed them for ever of His Presence, that when His Form appeared upon the waters they thought it was a spectre, a ghost from the other world? Was it again to try their faith still further that He “would have passed by them”? But when He heard their cry of terror, He restored their confidence by the reassuring intelligence, “It is I; be not afraid.” And no sooner had He entered into the boat than the storm was hushed, and there was a great calm.

S. Mark makes no mention of an incident so full of interest and instruction that it has furnished material both for Christian artists and preachers in every age. The impulsive rush to meet Jesus in the enthusiasm of a new-born conviction, the firm and confident step while all goes well, the sinking and falling away when any cloud of doubt or fear hides from the eyes the sustaining Presence, all have found repeated illustration in the spiritual experience of Christ’s disciples, from the time when Peter sprang from the boat and “walked upon the waters,” and “began to sink.”

The reason for the omission in this Gospel is not far to find. Though the memory of the Apostle’s feelings when the water yielded beneath his weight, and of the loss of confidence that took his eyes off Jesus, were well worthy of record for future generations of wavering Christians, he must have thought that the first bold venture of faith, which led him to do what man had never done before, would far outweigh in the estimation of men his after misgivings, and bring him more honour than shame. And so it was that, in accordance prison he was intrusted to four quaternions of soldiers, one, that is, for each watch. But in Talm. Bab. Berachoth, 3 b., we find reason to doubt the triple division. It contains a discussion between the chief Editor of the Mishnah and the somewhat older Rabbi Nathan. The former says there were four watches; the latter three, referring to Judges vii. 13, which speaks of the “middle watch.” But he is answered by a comparison of Psalm cxix. 62 with cxix. 148, where the expression “night watches” implies two at least after midnight, and therefore also two before. with his invariable rule, he asked S. Mark to pass it by in silence.

After what they had so lately seen of His creative power in feeding the multitudes, we might have expected that such an exhibition of omnipotence would have filled them with awe rather than with wonder and perplexity. But their hearts were slow to grasp the inner meaning of the mighty works which He did, and it never even occurred to them that it was quite natural for One Who could create the loaves and fishes at His will, to control the winds and waves.

It helps us to understand the object for which they were suffered, almost forced, to encounter the terrible perils of that stormy voyage. It was part of the training by which their Lord patiently led them onwards from weak beginnings, compelled to subject them again and again to the same disciplinary experience, only at each repetition drawing them on to the perception of something higher.

This progressive feature in their training appears, perhaps, nowhere more patent than in the special circumstances of the two storms from which He delivered them. At first sight the points of resemblance seem so numerous and so close that it is not easy to see why both should have been recorded. Closer consideration reveals such important and significant differences that the double narrative becomes full of instruction.

In the first storm it was during daylight; they were near to land; “there were other little ships” crossing the lake at the same time; the danger was of the shortest duration; and Jesus was with them in the boat — asleep, it is true, but still His Presence must have given them some sense of security.

In the second, they had to battle with the hurricane through the hours of night; they were “in the midst of the sea;” they were alone upon the waves; the agony of suspense and peril was prolonged for many hours; and, above all, their Guide and Protector was far away.

In the first miracle Jesus taught them to walk by sight; in the second, to walk by faith.

All was designed in the latter case to lead them to trust Him, though invisible to the bodily eye, and though He tarried, to wait for Him. It was a preparation for the coming severance, and an assurance that though He would leave them, though He should ascend up far from human sight, He would still remember them in their necessities, and “deliver them out of their distress.”

And through the Twelve He would teach the world, that for all who put their trust in Him, when the waters of adversity are high, and the storm of temptation is fierce, even though no mortal eye may see Him, He still, as of old, “treadeth upon the waves of the sea,” and “walketh upon the wings of the wind.” He still repeats the comforting assurance, “Be of good cheer: it is I; be not afraid:” for “though the waves of the sea are mighty, and rage horribly, yet the Lord Who dwelleth on high is mightier.”

Note: Bethsaida-Julias was a village rebuilt and adorned by Philip the Tetrarch, and dignified with the title of a town, called Julias, in honour of the Emperor’s daughter. The Tetrarch was buried there.

Note: Josephus says the lake was forty furlongs wide, i.e. five miles. — Wars, iii. 10. 7r For a further description cf. p. 94.

Note: The Jews, it is said, originally divided the night into three watches, but after the establishment of Roman supremacy the number was increased t<? four, which are all named in S. Mark xiii. 35 in the Authorised Version — even, midnight, cock -crowing, and morning. When S. Peter was put in