Matthew 14:13–34

Dare we say it, with care and reverence? This dreadful thing done to the most honourable of His disciples was a very deep and personal sorrow to the Master. And this, though we know that the Master foresaw it and could have prevented it. We believe He would have prevented it, and would prevent every ill that comes upon us — except that He sees some reason to let many of them take their course.

Have you been burying someone dear to you? And did you too go and tell Jesus, pouring out your sorrow into His sympathising ear? These disciples did. I can see two roads that day. On one come the sad disciples of John, who had lost their master. On the other come the disciples of Jesus, back from their first missionary tour and flushed with success. The two companies meet in the Lord's presence. The Lord says to them, "Come away by yourselves to a desolate place and rest a while." How morally lovely this call is! He makes it alike to successful workers and to disheartened disciples. Both needed it, but a desert with Jesus can be no desert.

First, the Lord retired into the desert because of the murder of His witness, a sure sign of His own rejection and crucifixion. This showed that God's way of dealing with the nation was about to change. So the Lord takes a place outside and apart from the guilty nation… Second, He takes an outside place because of the service of His disciples… Their service had taken them into the world, and had created such a stir that "there were many coming and going." At such a time the servant needs to be drawn away from the restless spirit of the world, to be with Him and rest a while. The third reason appears in the gospel of Luke, where the Lord draws the disciples apart to teach them.

That act of Herod's, He did not resent. Nor did He use His power to raise His servant from the dead. But He departed privately with the twelve. Was He indifferent to the murder of John? By no means. In a future day He will show that He was not. Was He afraid of the power of Herod? His answer to some Pharisees in Luke 13:31-33 rules that out.

The world shown in the first two scenes cannot tolerate the presence of Christ, and is entirely unsuited to Christ. It rejects Christ and is rejected by Christ. The Lord accepts the murder of His Forerunner as the sure token of His own rejection, and, leaving country and court, "He departed… into a desolate place by Himself."

Herod's feast was full of worse things than the feast that drew out the handwriting of death on the wall, sealing the fate of Belshazzar and his kingdom. But there was no second handwriting. The Lord did not come to break the bruised reed, or to put out the smouldering wick. He did not come to punish Israel for their sin. So when He heard of this deed that stained their land, "He withdrew… to a desolate place by Himself." His spirit led Him away from the sight of the nation's sin… and He went on with His patient work of mercy through their land, though they were paying Him back evil for good, and hatred for His love.

It was not that the people stopped coming to the Lord, or that He stopped being gracious — He could not. But He now stood at a distance from them, and dealt with them at a distance, not as one among them and one of themselves. As He had come and been rejected, He went away — they had to seek Him now; He had sought them.

Herod's court pictures the world… But the Lord is outside, and all who sought Him followed Him and joined Him in the desert… He is well able to support His own in the outside place.

Driven by their need and drawn by His grace, they follow Him into the path of separation. So with ourselves. We have needs as sinners and needs as saints, and no one in all this world can meet either one. As sinners we need a Saviour to free us from our sins and from all that lies on us as a fallen race. As believers we need an object to satisfy our hearts. So we are drawn to Him outside this world.

There was no insensibility in Him, whatever His patience and grace. He felt the grievous wrong done to God and His testimony and His servant. It was the sign of a storm still more violent and a far darker deed of blood — the awful sin of His own rejection. He would not hurry the moment, but retires. He was a sufferer, a perfect sufferer, as well as a sacrifice.

Coming to Him in the outside place we discover, like the needy crowds of old, His deep perfections. We see, as they did, that no one has to persuade Him to bless. He is willing and ready to bless, as we read "Jesus went forth" to meet them. The father ran to meet the returning son, and "Jesus went forth" to meet these needy souls.

The word translated compassion only occurs in Matthew, Mark and Luke. There are twelve references. It is used eight times of the Lord, once in a request made to Him, and twice in parables that speak of Him. The only other reference is in Luke 15:20, where it is used of the Father.

In the Scriptures the inward parts of the body always speak of the depth of inward feeling, both of the Saviour and the saints. Often we read of the Lord Jesus being "moved with compassion" when He saw the distress all around Him. He felt deeply within Himself what the sufferer was going through. But there was more than this: He expressed what the heart of God was feeling. We, as Christians, have to learn this if we are going to be effective in sympathising with others.

Did this deep sense in His spirit of the growing power of evil in Israel interrupt the course of His love? Far from it. Let murderous unbelief act as it may, He was Jehovah, present here below in humiliation, but in divine power and grace.

Matthew and Luke notice the healing of the sick, and not one of those who came or were brought to Him that day could say that their case was beyond relief. "He healed," writes Luke, "them that had need of healing" (Luke 9:11). Yet the crowd had not profited by those displays of miraculous power. They did not see who was there. They were ready to receive blessing for this life, but they did not seek spiritual blessing.

"And Jesus, moved with compassion" — nothing can exceed the beauty of this and what immediately follows. The Lord had just heard of, and no doubt sorrowed over, the death of John. At Nazareth, at the start of His ministry, people met Him with open violence. On His recent visit to His own city of Capernaum, people treated Him with rude contempt. Yet nothing could stop the outflow of heavenly grace. He had compassion on the crowds and healed their sick. It was the perfect contrast to Herod killing the prophet.

It is beautifully precious that the day of His rejection is the day of His grace. The world's refusal does not discourage Him. Instead He will in effect increase the efforts of pure grace, longing for the true blessing of mankind.

In this outside place He becomes the attractive centre of the needy. "They followed Him on foot from the towns." Driven by their need and drawn by His grace, they follow Him into the path of separation. So with ourselves; we have needs as sinners and needs as saints, and no one in all this world can meet one need or the other.

In Matthew 14 the move begins with the disciples, but it is to send the crowd away rather than to feed them. "Send the crowds away to go into the villages and buy food for themselves." This was a wretched impulse of their heart. It was, as we say, one word for the crowd and two for themselves; for they wanted to be by themselves, and felt the people were intruding.

"Send the crowds away!" — Away from Jesus? What a proposal! The size of the crisis, the urgency of the need, the difficulty of the circumstances — to unbelief these are so many reasons for men to do what they can. To faith they are so much the more the plea and occasion for the Lord to show what He is.

"Send them away." What made the disciples say this? What was the real source of this selfish request? Simply unbelief. The One who long ago fed "600,000 men on foot" for forty years in the wilderness was standing among them. Had they only remembered that, they would have known He would not send a hungry crowd away… Unbelief darkens the understanding and shrinks the heart. Faith and love always go together, and as one grows, so does the other. Faith opens the floodgates of the heart and lets the tide of love flow forth.

In the evening His disciples beg Him to send the crowd away so they can buy food. He refuses. In doing so He gives a remarkable testimony that He Himself is the One who was to satisfy the poor of His people with bread (Psalm 132). Jehovah, the Lord, who established the throne of David, was there in the Person of Him who should inherit that throne.

The disciples wished to send the crowd away, not knowing how to use the power of Christ. They should have been able to use it for Israel's sake, in keeping with the glory of Him who was among them.

Then comes the feeding of the crowds, and the way the Lord sends them away. It is a very different sending away from what it would have been if the disciples had had their way. They would have sent them off to buy bread for themselves. Hungry thousands would have gone away as witnesses, so to speak, against Christ. He sent those many thousands away happy, satisfied, so many witnesses to the tenderness of His heart, and the divine glory of His person.

"Send the multitude away!" — away from Jesus? What a proposal! Unbelief treats the great difficulty, the urgent need, and the hard circumstances as so many reasons for men to do what they can. To faith they are all the more a reason and an opportunity for the Lord to show what He is. "Jesus said to them, 'They need not go away; you give them something to eat.'" Oh, the dullness of man! — the folly and slowness of heart in disciples to believe it all.

They would have sent them away to buy bread for themselves. Hungry thousands would have gone off as witnesses, in a way, against Christ. He sent those many thousands away happy and satisfied. They were so many witnesses to the tenderness of His heart and the divine glory of His person.

They had to discover that His way was to use the tiny resources already in their hands, and multiply them until they were more than enough. The prophet said that the LORD would find His rest in Zion. Then His word would be, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15). The LORD was now among His people in the person of Jesus. There was no rest for Him in Zion at that time, yet He still proved what He could do with these five thousand men, besides women and children. He was dispensing the bounty of heaven.

Man had corrupted everything and rightly lost it. The Lord takes that as His opportunity to bring out His own resources. Man's wilderness was Christ's storehouse.

Notice here that the Lord expects to find His twelve disciples able to be the instruments of His acts of blessing and power. They were to hand out the blessings of the kingdom according to His own power. "You give them something to eat," He said. This applies to the blessing of the Lord's kingdom, and to the twelve disciples of Jesus as its ministers. But it is also an all-important principle about the effect of faith in every intervention of God in grace. Faith should be able to use the power that acts in such an intervention.

Here they do not think of Him for a moment. They think only of how far short their supplies fell for such a crowd. "Bring them here to me" ought to have reminded them of who they had with them.

"And they said to Him, We have only five loaves here and two fish." Ah! were they — are we — so blind as to overlook that the question is not what we have, but whom we have?

Let us think of this as we minister the things of God. It may be the gospel, or the ministry of His Word for building up believers. The Head of the Body entrusts everything to us. He Himself will minister through our ministry, if the heart rests on Him in faith. Faith looks away from circumstances and difficulties to a rich and gracious Lord in glory.

"They need not go away; you give them something to eat." But before you give it, the bread must be your bread. It must be what you live on yourself, and out of that you minister. Nothing else is really yours. If Christ is not your daily portion, the One who satisfies you, how can you speak of Him or minister Him to others?

They said to Him, "We have only five loaves here and two fish." Were they, and are we, so blind that we overlook this: it is not a question of what we have, but whom we have? Jesus means nothing to the flesh, even the flesh of disciples.

It was not only that the disciples could not meet that need. They could not even trust the Lord to do so. Philip and the other disciples had come to the end of themselves. But sadly they had not come to the beginning of faith in their Master. So their ready advice was to send the crowds away. He said, "You give them something to eat." Then they discovered that all they had was five loaves and two small fish. Yet five barley loaves and two small fish and Christ were resources enough for any number, if only the disciples had known it.

To faith it is either God or nothing. In the hand of God, and to the view of faith, a handful of flour provides materials as effective as the cattle on a thousand hills. "We have only five loaves here and two fish; but what are they for so many?" This is the language of the human heart. Faith never asks, what are these among so many? It asks, what is God among so many? Unbelief says we are not able; faith says, but God is well able.

They did not even have the small supply themselves; it was in the hands of a little boy. How suggestive! It was little, very little that they had, and it was in the hands of a little boy, one who was weak. It is the same with ourselves and the little we have. We are blessed indeed if we do know how little is in our hands and how much is lacking. But let it not be in unbelief, thinking it is such a small amount that it cannot be used. Nothing is too small, nothing too little, if it is brought to Him; indeed, He has chosen the weak things.

He said, "Bring them here to Me." Oh for more simplicity in bringing every lack and every small supply to Him! It is His place to provide — not for us only, but for all the demands of His love. Let us count on Him more regularly as One who cannot act beneath Himself.

He refuses to send the crowd away. In doing so He bears a remarkable testimony: the One who was to satisfy the poor of His people with bread (Psalm 132) was present in His own Person. Jehovah, the Lord who established the throne of David, was there in the Person of the One who would inherit that throne.

Though we feel how little we have, yet having Christ, in Him there is more than enough for all mankind. The loaves speak of Him as the bread of life. The way bread is made implies suffering and death in various ways. The grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies. It grows up, then is cut down and threshed. Then it is ground in the mill, mixed with other ingredients, kneaded, and at last exposed to the heat of the fire. The fish too speak of Him as the One who has passed through the waters of judgment for us. When they are brought to Him and He blesses them, He makes them more than enough by a miracle.

Christ is with them, and the disciples take the right course; they "come to Him." They turn to the One with perfect knowledge, infinite love, and divine power. He would have us realise our need. Harder still, He would have us realise our own utter weakness and complete inability to meet that need. To bring home to them their own weakness, the Lord can say, "Give them something to eat." At once they have to admit they have only five loaves and two small fish.

Ah, were they — are we — so blind as to overlook that it is not a question of what we have, but of whom we have? Jesus means nothing to the flesh, even the flesh of disciples.

So at once the Lord says, "Bring them here to Me" — ME — the One who knows, who loves, and who has the power to meet the need. And still He is saying, "Bring them here to Me" — in all our difficulties, our trials, our sorrows, our exercises and our failures. He invites us to come to Him in all our weakness.

The disciples are angry. They have only a few loaves and fish. How could they spread a table for such a crowd? Here was a further exposure of their bad hearts. There was no faith there, as there was no love there. They knew nothing but the obvious supply in their basket — loaves and fish. They did not count on having Christ Himself among them. Jesus silently rebukes this. "Bring them here to Me" — as if to say: You have more in your company than loaves and fish. You have the God of the desert, who once fed your fathers there for forty years.

They did not even have the small supply themselves — it was in the hands of a little boy. How suggestive! It was very little that they had, and it was in the hands of a boy, someone weak. It is the same with ourselves and the little we have. Blessed are we indeed if we do know how little it is that is in our hands, and how much is lacking. But do not let that turn into unbelief, thinking it is too small for Him to use. Nothing is too small, nothing too little, if it is brought to Him; yes, He has chosen the weak things. "Bring them here to Me" is His command. What condescension! He does not despise the little we have. He does not set it aside when displaying His power. It would have been easy for Him to speak just one word in that desert place. Bread would have fallen on the ground again for the crowds to gather.

"Bring them here to Me" — and do we always bring what we have to Him? Is every service first brought to Him for blessing? Are all our undertakings really brought to Him — our little, our all, put at His disposal? If we bring it to Him He will bless it, and with His blessing we can go out to serve others. There can be, and will be, no lack in such service when it depends on Him.

How blessed is the result! First, all are brought to rest. Then He takes the very things that were the witness of their weakness. He brings earth's weakness into touch with heaven's fullness. The people were not only fed but filled, and twelve baskets full remained. His grace can meet our need, but our need will never exhaust His grace.

The Lord takes the five loaves and the two fish and, looking up to heaven, blesses them. He brings the disciples' little into touch with heaven's plenty, and it more than meets the needs of the crowd. It is the same with the widow's pot of oil. Brought into touch with the power of God in grace, it will more than meet her need.

The Lord Jesus soon showed everyone that He was the God who gave Israel the manna in the desert (Ex. 16). Order is stamped on all His ways, whether in creation or in grace. "God is not a God of confusion." But before He worked this stupendous miracle, He gave public thanks for the food He was about to hand out (Matt. 14:19). What a wonderful combination in one Person: human dependence and almighty divine power!

He raised His eyes to heaven, as He did when He healed the deaf and mute man (Mark 7:34), and when He came to the grave of Lazarus (John 11:41). This was an attitude of prayer and heavenly communion (John 17:1). He had taught His disciples to pray, "Our Father in heaven … Give us this day our daily bread."

The prophet said that the LORD would find His rest in Zion. Then His word would be, "I will abundantly bless her provisions; I will satisfy her poor with bread" (Ps. 132:15). The LORD was now among His people in the person of Jesus. There was no rest for Him in Zion at that time, yet He proved what He could do with these five thousand men, besides women and children. He was handing out the bounty of heaven — that is why He looked up to heaven as He blessed.

The Lord told the crowd to sit down by companies on the green grass. 1 Peter 1:24 tells us that "all flesh is like grass." So the flesh was now subdued under them, and all fleshly activity stopped. They were ready to receive freely what the Lord alone could freely give. It was all done in order, in groups of hundreds and fifties. That fits the wisdom of Him who is a God of order.

He blessed and broke the bread. The broken bread went first into the hands of the disciples, and after they received it they gave it to the people. This is the divine order of ministry. He blesses the little handed over to Him. We receive from Him first, and what we receive from His hands we can pass on to others.

How constantly we find the Lord returning good for their evil! He puts honour on the poor disciples, who so little appreciated His feelings of love and compassion. He does not hand the bread to the people Himself, as though He made no account of His servants. He meant to show His disciples that the love of Christ delights to work through human channels. … Yet Jesus alone was the source of it all. The disciples were to be the channels, both learning and teaching what grace could do to them, and through them.

There is an ascent marked here: she ate, but she might only have eaten enough to quiet her hunger for a little while. She was satisfied: all her hunger was met and she wanted no more. This would suggest a supply enough for her own case, but beyond her need there was enough for the needs of others; she left some over. We are reminded again of the crowd fed by our Lord... This is the way of grace; there is always an abundance beyond our need, no matter how great that need may be.

Here is the miracle. The little was not only enough for all, but more was left over at the end than they had at the beginning. His blessing was not only on the little, so that it reached all; He blessed it in such a way that from it came an abundant increase. It is no different now in the ministry of spiritual things. The more we give out, having received from Him, the greater the increase and possession for us in the end.

In nothing does He depart from grace, despite the recent display of murderous hatred in Herod... Should they not have concluded for certain who and what He was? The Lord had chosen Zion. He had desired it for His dwelling. He had said, "This is My resting place forever; here I will dwell, for I have desired it." But now an Edomite was there, the slave of a greedy Gentile ruler... Still, the rejected One spreads a table in the wilderness, abundantly blesses Zion's provision, and satisfies her poor with bread. The miracle may not be the fulfilment of Psalm 132, but it is the witness that He was there who could, and yet will, fulfil it.

One word, spyris, means a hamper. It is used for the seven baskets of fragments left after the four thousand were fed. When the five thousand were fed there were twelve baskets of fragments, but it was then the kophinos, a hand basket... The two perfect numbers seven and twelve show the inexhaustible supply the Lord furnishes when His purpose is to bless His own.

In Scripture the number twelve often stands for divine administration through human hands, as with the twelve disciples. We may apply this to what was then close at hand. The disciples were being fitted to go out into the world with a basket each, filled with the good things of God. Here they carried His bounty to the hungry crowd. That service was a fitting introduction to the great work they were called to after He had gone on high... We may also give the miracle a distant application. In it we may see the time of Israel's full blessing, in the day of their deliverance, with that blessing overflowing to the nations.

He who wielded almighty power allowed no waste, and here sets before His people an example of thrift. The people were satisfied first, and the twelve baskets of fragments proved it. The disciples gathered up in them enough for their own next meal.

The first word means total absence or non-existence; the second means only separation, being apart... So Matthew 14:21 and Matthew 15:38 may not deny the presence of women and children, as aneu would, but do not count them.

Such a person must also deny that our Lord multiplied five loaves and two small fish, and by that satisfied the hunger of five thousand men, besides women and children (Matt. 14:21). In all of human history, was it ever heard that a mere handful of food could be multiplied like this? Was this not above nature?

Jehovah had chosen Zion — had desired it for His habitation... But now an Edomite ruled there, the slave of a greedy Gentile power; and the people wanted it that way... Still, the rejected One spreads a table in the wilderness, richly blesses Zion's provision, and satisfies her poor with bread... He is the Messiah, but the rejected Messiah, as ever in our Gospel.

The Lord was testing their faith in Him: "You give them something to eat." But no — they had no faith. They began to count up their own resources: "We have no more than five loaves and two fish." So it is with us. No faith! Memory is not faith... Unbelief shuts out God, and limits itself to what it sees.

How we need more simplicity in bringing every lack and every small supply to Him! It is His to provide — not for us only, but for everything His love requires. We should count on Him more steadily as One who cannot act beneath Himself.

This tells the wealth of the Lord of the feast, as well as His kindness... If we draw on someone else's generosity, and have reason to fear we have taken what he needed himself, our enjoyment fades... But when we know that behind the table spread for us there are stores in the house, such fears have no place.

No wonder they were astounded that five thousand men (besides women and children — Mt. 14:21) were fed from so small a supply. But the same is true spiritually. What we present to others of Christ God will multiply beyond anything we could imagine.

The word "constrained" appears three other times in our English version (Matt. 14:22; Acts 28:19; 2 Cor. 5:14). In the first two places it means to force or compel. The Lord "forced" the disciples to get into a ship, using His authority to make them do as He commanded.

The way the story is told seems to imply that the disciples were unwilling to obey... The miracle of the loaves had stirred up great excitement in that lonely place. The crowd wanted to take Him by force and proclaim Him the Prophet and King of the Jews. The disciples had not taken in enough of their Master's spirit to judge that sudden impulse correctly. They would most likely have sided with the mob and put Him on the throne of David.

They would readily and eagerly have gone along with what the people wanted, but He thoughtfully moved them away from the place of temptation.

But the Lord would not take the kingdom from zeal like this. This could not be the source of the kingdom of the Son of man. The beasts may take their kingdoms from the winds beating on the great sea, but Jesus cannot (Dan. 7)... Besides this, before the Lord could take His seat on Mount Zion, He had to climb the lonely mountain. And before the people could enter the kingdom, they had to go down to the stormy sea.

They would have sent them away to buy bread for themselves. That would have sent thousands away hungry, as witnesses against Christ. He sent those thousands away happy and satisfied, as witnesses to the tenderness of His heart and the divine glory of His person.

The crown was not yet to flourish on His head. Because of their unbelief He had to leave His ancient people. He would take a new place on high, and call out a remnant into a new order of things. Rejected as Messiah on earth, He would not be made king by the will of man to satisfy anyone's worldly desires. He would go above, and there carry out His priesthood before God. It is an exact picture of what the Lord has done. Meanwhile, if the crowds of Israel are sent away, His chosen ones enter a scene of trouble. Their Master is absent through the night of man's day.

He went up on a mountain by Himself to pray. He was there alone — a beautiful picture of the Son of God, our high Priest at the right hand of God today. No one was with Him, yet His thoughts and sympathies were with those He had made cross the sea. He knew all about the contrary winds and the raging waves that battered the ship and tested their faith. And He did not leave them to struggle on alone.

Meanwhile the wind is against us, and we toil at the oars with difficulty and trouble, outwardly left to the Lord. But He always intercedes for us, and gains mercy and grace for us in the time of need.

The loaves and fishes had become too important to these men. They wanted more of this food that came so easily, so they planned to force kingship on this Prophet. We have just heard Him say, "I do not receive testimony from man," and again, "I do not receive glory from men." So it is no surprise that He will not receive a kingdom from the hands of men. The glory of the greatest earthly kingdom that man can build is only tinsel before Him. So He went off alone to a mountain, while His disciples set out to cross the lake. They would gladly have gone along with what the people wanted, so He thoughtfully removed them from the temptation.

The crown was not yet to flourish on His own head. He must leave His ancient people because of their unbelief. He must take a new position on high, and call out a small remnant into another state of things as well. He was rejected as Messiah on earth. He would not be a king by the will of man, to satisfy anyone's worldly desires. Instead He would go above, and there exercise His priesthood before God. It is an exact picture of what the Lord has done.

Now the scene changes, and we see the Lord in an entirely new position, setting out fresh truths. In the earlier scene He was in "a desolate place by Himself" (verse 13); here He is "on the mountain by Himself" (verse 23). There we learn, in a picture, that Christ is completely outside the course of this world. Here we learn that He has entered a new world. The mountain position speaks to us of the place He has taken on high. What is more, though He is on high, His heart of love is still occupied with His people as they pass through this world. We read, "He went up … to pray." In the place of glory He intercedes for His people.

The storm tossed the disciples on the sea through the dark watches of the night. They were deeply tried and tested while their Lord was away. But He never for a moment lost sight of them, never took His eyes off them.

He would now dismiss the huge crowd and go away to speak to His Father in prayer that night. He had just shown His divine power in feeding the crowd with those five loaves and two small fish. Now, as a dependent man, He would bow low before His Father in prayer. None of His disciples, then, should be ashamed to confess their dependence on the God of all grace and the Father of mercies.

But in Matthew's Gospel the only recorded occasion of prayer, apart from Gethsemane, is in the chapter before us. That fits the way this Gospel traces God's dealings with Israel. Rejected as King, the Lord has gone on high as Intercessor. In the "fourth watch" He will come out to help and save the distressed, storm-tossed remnant of Israel.

And who would want to be without those sweet and holy lessons learned in secret? Who would want to lack the training of a Father's hand? Who would not long to be led away from under the eye of man, and above the influence of earthly and natural things? Who would not long to be brought into the pure light of the divine Presence, where God's own judgment sees and weighs self and everything around? In a word, who would not want to be alone with God? Not alone as a nice-sounding phrase, but really and practically alone — above all, alone like Jesus on the mountain.

Matthew and Mark dwell on the condition of the vessel. It was "in the midst of the sea," that is, away from land; and "tossed with the waves; for the wind was contrary" (Matt. 14:24). With the wind against them, sailing was out of the question. They turned to their oars, John tells us, but failed to get across the lake. Human effort to reach the shore they wanted proved useless. They had rowed twenty-five or thirty stadia, and Josephus says the lake at its widest was forty.

Revelation 9:5 uses the verb and the noun for the torment of a scorpion's sting. Matthew 14:24: "tormented by the waves."

It is a picture of what the world is for the servants of the Lord while He is absent. He was up on the mountain. He was there in prayer — just what He is doing now. He is in the presence of God interceding; and meanwhile His servants are here, and everything outward is against them. For there is one who is in power, allowed for a season, and his constant effort is to oppose and thwart the servants of the Lord.

While He is away, night and storm reign and His own are in distress; the wind is contrary. Could we find a better description of the present age than a stormy sea, a contrary wind and a dark night? … Scripture states the character of this age in emphatic and plain terms. How strange, then, that the greater part of the professing church can teach exactly the opposite. They call it an age of peace, light and progress.

Note that the intercession of Christ does not necessarily give peace to the Church while He is absent. The wind remains contrary, and they were toiling at the oars, though they were going and working according to the Lord's will. In fact, being in the place the Lord sets us in, and working by virtue of His intercession, often stirs up the opposition of the adversary. This lasts until He enters the ship in present power and silences and binds the adversary himself. Otherwise it is toiling against a contrary wind. … I repeat, a contrary wind and Christ's intercession go together.

This answers exactly to His present position toward the nation of Israel. He has left them and gone on high to begin the blessed work of intercession. Meanwhile the disciples — a picture of the faithful remnant — were tossed on the stormy sea through the dark watches of the night. They were deeply tried and tested while their Lord was away. But He never lost sight of them for a moment, never took His eyes off them. And when they were brought, as it were, to their wits' end, He appears for their relief, hushes the wind, calms the sea, and brings them to the haven they wanted.

The frightened disciples, expecting the deep to swallow them up at any moment, could hardly picture the true believer, who knows his position in Christ. He too is above the storm. He may be storm-tossed, like this little ship upon the sea. Satan's power may always be at play around him, and the wind may be contrary. Yet through it all he does not fear. He sings the song that is heard above the howling wind: "For I am sure that neither death nor life … will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord."

Under the Romans there were four night watches, matching the changes of the Roman guards, each lasting three hours, from sunset to sunrise. They were sometimes called evening, midnight, cock-crowing and morning.

How they longed for the presence of the One who had once stood up in the boat during a similar storm and rebuked the wind and the sea. But He came to them not in the second watch, nor in the third watch. It was not until the dark hour before the dawn that the bright and morning Star appeared.

On the mountain in prayer, He must have stayed there some time, for darkness settled on the scene, and hours passed before He rejoined the twelve. At last He went down into the storm, and it was about the fourth watch of the night that He drew near to them. He saw them toiling, and He came to them. Blessed Master! As then, so now He sees His people in all their troubles and difficulties, and in His own way He sustains and delivers.

He walks on the sea as His by double right: in Godhead He created it, and in manhood it forms part of His vast domain… The sea is often used in Scripture to represent the restless forces of evil. At its creation He shut it up behind doors when it burst out as if it had come from the womb. Here, in the double rights of His divine-human Person, we see the Lord Jesus Christ with all the powers of evil pictured beneath His feet.

They had known Him as the One who was with them in the storm; now they see Him as beyond all weariness and above all storms. That is His position today. He is not only apart from the world, He is above the world, and beyond the reach of its storms. The storm of Calvary has spent itself. Death no longer has dominion over Him. He walks upon the waves.

The Lord makes His disciples leave without Him, while He sends the crowd away. When they are gone, He goes off into a mountain to pray. This is exactly what the Lord has now done. The disciples are tossed on the stormy sea of the world. Jesus has sent Israel away and has gone up to heaven to intercede for us. Meanwhile the wind is contrary, and we row on with difficulty and trouble, outwardly left to the Lord. But He always intercedes for us, and gets mercy and grace for us in time of need.

We must take the disciples as a picture of the Jewish remnant… We have to read the incident in this light, though that does not forbid applications in other directions.

Why did He not at once still the raging of the sea, as in Matthew 8:26? Who can explain all His ways with His people? On one occasion He stopped the storm. This time He comforted them in it, and by His grace made them stronger than it… What we need is simple faith in His goodness. Whatever form His dealings take, all must be well. It is not always best to be lifted right out of the circumstances that distress us, though weak flesh and blood would gladly have it so.

When the Lord came across the sea He looked for a response from His disciples. He would have passed them by, hoping the sight of Him would stir some appeal to Him, for they all saw Him, as Mark tells us. Yet the apostles did not recognise their Master. We read that they cried out in fear, for they supposed they saw a phantom. The vision on the waves, they thought, was not real — an apparition — the creation of their own imagination.

He came down onto the waves. He came from the eternal peace of heaven into the storm where His loved ones were struggling. The winds blew and the waves tossed around Him. When His disciples saw Him, they were frightened and supposed that He was a spirit, but He was not a spirit. HE WAS A MAN, AND HE IS A MAN. This is the amazing thing. The children share flesh and blood, so He, the Lord of Glory, shared the same. That way He would know from His own experience how fierce the storms are that hit our weak humanity. He was tempted in every way we are, apart from sin. So He can help us with a sympathy that is perfectly human though divine.

The very thing that is the source of the deepest comfort when it is believed becomes a cause of fear when it is only a matter of sight — even when the sight is Jesus Himself! We can trust ourselves so little, and we owe so much to God and His word. The word that reveals Jesus is completely different from our own thoughts and our own sight, even when that sight is real.

It is a picture of what was about to happen. He would go up to God to begin His present ministry of intercession. That left His disciples to face the rough seas of this stormy world while He was away. The twelve found the crossing rough and hard, as followers of a rejected and crucified Lord have always found life and witness here. Many a storm has Satan raised in the hope of destroying all witness to the Name he hates.

The elements seemed all against them, and it was very trying. It was the fourth watch of the night, and they had been through all the other watches. But if He compels them to enter a ship He will take them through. They do what the Lord tells them, without hesitating, but their hearts must have been tested. If they went in the only boat, how was He to join them? The lake was only seven miles across. The fact that they had got only half-way over shows what a storm it was, and how little progress they were making. But His way is in the sea.

His return came in the fourth watch of the night, just before dawn. The Lord comes nearer step by step. His person is seen dimly in the distance. The disciples are afraid and cry out in terror, instead of shouting for joy that He is coming. All of it applies to our own time. There are many in the Christian world for whom the coming of the Lord, and the events tied to it, bring no joy but fear and terror to the heart... The true believer, however, knows no fear in the fourth watch, for he waits and watches for His coming.

In verse 22 we read: "He made the disciples get into the boat and go before Him to the other side." He had sent them, and He allowed these difficulties to come! Oh, if we meet problems on the road the Lord has sent us down, we can take heart. He never forgets His own. He comes to stay with them, as He came to help the disciples. But they did not recognize Him. Is that not something we experience also? The problems are so big that we do not recognize the Lord coming to help us.

So too, before He stilled the storm, His voice came through the roar of the wind, telling His frightened disciples, "Take heart; it is I. Do not be afraid" (Matt. 14:27). So it is good for us to learn this. The Lord does not only rescue the godly out of their troubles. He also supports them by His word in the very middle of them.

"Do not be afraid," He said to His disciples when the storm rose up, threatening to swallow them (Matt. 14:27). "Do not be afraid," when shipwreck is certain (Acts 27:24)... "Do not be afraid," when death has already done its work (Mark 5:36).

In His answer to the terrified disciples the Lord said, "Be of good cheer, I am." It is well known that this is the right rendering of the words. We see Him as a Man and yet the great "I Am" in a scene that shows, in picture, all the power of evil under His feet. He walks upon the sea as His by double right: in Godhead He created it, and in Manhood it forms part of His vast domain.

In John 9 we read of the blind man that some said, "It is he," others said, "No, but he is like him," and he kept saying, "I am the man." These two cases are enough to show that in ordinary speech "I am" does not have to mean more than a statement of identity.

They were alone, without their Lord in the boat. But unknown to them, He had been watching them in their toil and fear, though they had no idea He was doing so. ... Then, at once, Jesus spoke to them. What did He say? "THARSEITE!" "Cheer up! It is I; do not be afraid!"

The very thing that gives the deepest comfort when it is believed becomes a cause of fear when it is only a matter of sight — even when that sight is Jesus! So little can we trust ourselves, so infinitely are we indebted to God and His word. I say that the word that reveals Jesus is a completely different thing from our own thoughts or our own sight, even if that sight were of Him.

This answers exactly to His present position toward the nation of Israel. He has left them and gone on high to take up the blessed work of intercession. Meanwhile, the disciples were tossed on the stormy sea through the dark hours of the night. They were deeply tried and tested while their Lord was away. But He never for a moment lost sight of them, never withdrew His eyes from them. And when they were brought, as it were, to their wits' end, He appears to help them. He hushes the wind, calms the sea, and brings them to the harbour they longed for.

Here was the point: "If it is You." If it were not He, the wildest mistake Peter could make would be to leave the ship. But suppose it really was Jesus — that blessed One, that most glorious and most gracious One, whom Peter saw moving calmly over the surface of the troubled sea. Then surely the very highest, the very happiest, the very best thing he could do was to leave every earthly and natural support and come out to Him.

Peter's knowledge at first is very superficial. "Lord, if it is You," he says. But it is enough for the start. If it is He, His word is enough to make Peter leave the ship.

If He shows Himself to His people, it is to draw them to Himself in the place outside. But we will be drawn out of the systems of men in one way only: with Christ Himself before our souls as our one Object, and Christ's word as our only authority. This is beautifully set out in Peter. He seems to say, "If I am to leave the ship, if I am to walk on the water, it must be Yourself as my Object, and Your word as my authority."

The "Come" of Christ is an answer to the one who says, "Lord, if it is You, command me to come to You on the water." The word for the path is the answer only to the heart that wants the path.

Notice, it is "to You on the water." It was not Jesus coming to Peter in the ship, blessed and precious as that is, but Peter coming to Jesus on the water. It is one thing to have Jesus come into the middle of our circumstances, quieting our fears, calming our anxieties, settling our hearts. It is quite another thing for us to push out from the shore of circumstances, or from the ship of nature's devices, and walk in calm victory over them, simply to be with Jesus where He is.

"Command me to come to You." In asking this favour Peter had no thought of running an experiment. He was not showing off his cleverness at overcoming obstacles. What he wanted was to go to Him. Christ attracted him, and for the moment he thought nothing of wind or waves.

This was hardly presumption, or his Master would not have said, "Come." It was rather the eagerness of affection.

It makes all the difference whether the Lord, out of His own heart, tells me to come. It is another thing when the Lord acts on my own impulsiveness, and puts me to the test to show whether it is my own thought, my own haste. It was so, certainly, with Peter, and this was what Peter had to learn — the blessedness of waiting, the danger of dictating.

The Jewish system... was like a ship, quite suited to men who are "after the flesh." As the result of His coming, the disciples were to step out of that "ship" into a path of pure faith... Peter was "out of the ship," with Christ as his Object and His word as his authority.

He had the authority of his Lord for leaving the ship. That word "come" — a word of mighty moral force — fell on his heart and drew him out from the ship to go to Jesus. Christ's word was the authority for entering on that strange, mysterious path, and Christ's realised presence was the power to pursue it. Without that word he dared not start; without that presence he could not proceed. Walking on the sea was strange, unearthly, above and beyond nature — but Jesus was walking there, and faith could walk with Him.

The widow of Zarephath gave her all on the strength of one verse from God. Abram in Genesis 15:5 built all his hopes on five words from God — "so shall your offspring be." Matthew surrendered all on the authority of two words, "Follow Me," from the lips of the Lord Jesus. And Peter risked his life at the sound of one word — "Come" — from the same blessed lips.

It was a serious thing to leave the place of apparent security to walk where there was no way, but, as I said, the word of Christ was enough for him. He knew its power. At His word he had let go the net; at His word he sets out... In asking this favour Peter had no thought of making an experiment. He was not showing off his cleverness in overcoming obstacles. What he wanted was to go to Him. Christ attracted him, and for the moment he thought nothing of wind or waves... Faith leaves the boat, the only apparent shelter, not counting it the true place of safety, and sets out on a divine word to reach Jesus, whose presence is worth more to him than getting to the other shore.

The wind was not hushed, the waves as threatening as ever; but had not Peter heard that word "Come"? And was it not enough? It was ample, coming from the Lord and God of all... As long as Jesus and His word were before his heart, there was no failure any more than danger.

As long as his eye was simply on that blessed One, he walked the water as safely as Christ Himself. There was no question about the power that was there; it was plain. How could a man walk on water except by supernatural power?

Peter could not have crossed the calmest sea apart from divine help. But that help was more than enough to hold him up safely on the wildest sea.

The Jewish system was like a ship, quite suited to men who are "after the flesh." Much of it consisted of "the law of commandments expressed in ordinances" (Ephesians 2:15). As the result of His coming, the disciples were to step out of that "ship" into a path of pure faith... Peter was "out of the ship," with Christ as his Object and His word as his authority.

There was nothing wrong in remaining in the ship. But the question is, "What are we aiming at?" Is it the fixed purpose of the soul to get as near as we can to Jesus?

We want to be more occupied with his success than with his failure. Affection for his Master led him out of the boat. Faith in his Master made him superior to nature... It is a picture of a Christian walking through a world where everything is opposed to him, supported by power from on high.

But Peter failed. Yes; and what then? Does that prove he was wrong in obeying the call of his Lord? Did Jesus reprove him for leaving the ship? Ah, no; that would not have been like Him. He could not tell His poor servant to come, and then rebuke him for coming... He does not say, "O you restless forward one, why did you leave the ship?" No, but "why did you doubt?" Such was the tender reproof. And where was Peter when he heard it? In the arms of his Lord!

Why did he sink? Was the water any less solid when it was rough than when it was calm? Certainly not. Without divine power, you could not walk on the stillest mill-pond any better than on the stormiest wave that ever surged. The power of Christ can sustain you and me in the most difficult circumstances. And nothing but the power and grace of Christ can sustain us in the easiest circumstances.

Yes, there was faith then, but it was little faith, and now that little faith became obvious. He thought he was a man of great faith. This was exactly the lesson Peter had to learn. "O you of little faith." It was himself. It was not Thomas... it was not John, it was no one else, it was Peter. He never thought of it. On the contrary, he was quite sure he was a man of great faith, and now he gets this thoroughly healthy lesson. How humble he would be! How tender with others!

The Lord also shows what marks little faith — doubt. There is not a word in the Bible to create a doubt, not one. The Spirit of God never put a doubt into the heart of man... What is the root of doubting? Making little of Christ... To whom did Christ show His grace more? To the man of little faith most of all.

This beloved servant of Christ broke down in his course... "Lord, save me!"... No poor failing creature can ever appeal to that love in vain... Wonderful grace! If Peter failed to reach his Lord, his Lord did not fail to reach him. If Peter failed in faith, Jesus could not fail in grace. Impossible.

He gets no rebuke for a rash venture. The other disciples might have given him that. Many people are in no danger of this kind of failure, and they would use it to excuse themselves from ever trying such a thing. But the Lord says only, "Why did you doubt?"... At his cry there is a hand stretched out to him, and he is held up. It is not the ship that rescues him, nor is he taken out of the path, but supported in it.

Even when he had lowered himself to the level of those who lack faith, the Lord did not abandon him. He cried out in his desperate need, "Lord, save me."... The Lord remained faithful to the one who had followed Him in obedience to His word... This rescue by the Lord matches what the apostle Paul wrote: "if we are faithless, he remains faithful — for he cannot deny himself" (2 Tim. 2:13). The Lord was the same in Peter's triumph and in Peter's failure. Only the disciple changed, for doubt had crept into his heart.

Then He entered the boat, and the wind ceased. The Lord had rejoined them, and the elements were still. So will it be in the future, when He appears to and for His earthly people. He will in the fullest sense make the storm a calm, so that the waves of it will be still (Psalm 107:29).

And as they came into the boat, the wind ceased. Satan's power was at an end as soon as Jesus was in the boat. When He comes back to earth again there will be peace, and not before. The great need of the world is to have the King back.

Jesus enters the boat, and the wind stops. It will be the same when Jesus returns to the remnant of His people in this world. Then all who are in the boat will worship Him as the Son of God, together with the remnant of Israel... For when He returns, the world will recognise Him. It is a fine picture of the result of Christ's rejection.

But Jesus will step into the boat again — back into the earthly and human order, though now glorified and not humbled. Then the wind will stop. All in that boat will own Him as Son of God. And the world that once rejected Him will own His power and His presence, and gladly.

Peter and his Lord come back to the boat together. Then the wind ceases. Those in the boat come and worship Him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." This is again not hard to understand. When He returns to Israel, we shall be with Him still, and for them and for us the wind will be at rest. Satan's power will be over. He himself will be shut up in the bottomless pit, and the power of Christ will be supreme over all.

As soon as the Lord got into the boat, the wind ceased. John 6:21 adds, "immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going." How beautiful! How calm everything is as soon as you get into the presence of the Lord! And now they worship Him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God."

He came to His disciples, and they received Him into the boat. They heard His word, and His word stopped the storm, so that there was peace at once. What threatened to destroy them was taken away... When Jesus came to them, they found they were exactly where they wanted to go. How did all this come about? Through His power, that Almighty power that resides in the person of Jesus. His disciples were slow to believe it was so then, and they have always been slow to believe it from that day to this.

Faith has the right to know the presence of the same Jesus. It is the same in smooth waters, in calmed waters, and in waters that still rage and swell with no voice to command them. He may be active in one case and asleep in the other. But He is just as much in the boat, whether He is acting or sleeping.

As soon as the Lord got into the ship the wind ceased, and John 6:21 adds, "Immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going." How beautiful! How calm everything is as soon as you get into the presence of the Lord! And now they worship Him, saying, "Truly you are the Son of God." Peter had learned Him as Messiah in John 1. He had learned Him as Son of Man, and Lord over the fish of the sea, in Luke 5. Now he sees more of the moral glories of His person, and he gets another most precious lesson: this One who is the Messiah, and the Son of Man, is also the Son of God.

The Lord came over the waves looking for faithfulness and trust in the hearts of the disciples. Instead He found deadly dullness and hearts that felt nothing... So Jesus found no response in the apostles to the labours of His love. They were struggling in vain against the storm. When He rescued them from its fury, they were completely astonished. If they expected deliverance at all, they did not expect it in that way. However, their hard hearts were melted, and "those in the boat worshiped him, saying, 'Truly you are the Son of God.'"

How did our Lord respond to those who worshipped Him? Did He accept their worship, or did He rebuke it as "idolatry"?... The disciples saw our Lord walking on the rough waters of the Sea of Galilee, and they were afraid. Our Lord calmed their fears and joined them in their ship. Then the astonished disciples worshipped Him. Did our Lord rebuke them? Was it idolatry, which should have been sternly rebuked? No, He accepted their worship.

It was not that they did not believe this before. But they were overwhelmed by the greatness of the miracle, and awed by the power and presence of the Lord then among them. So their hearts bowed down before Him in holy adoration and believing love, as the very Son of the eternal Father, and as such possessing all the power and glory of the Godhead. Can we suppose that their minds were taken up with speculations such as daring men have since invented to deny and dishonour both Father and Son? Or did their simple, childlike, God-given faith at once embrace the blessedness of the mystery — that the Jesus whom they saw, and at whose feet they fell, was the Son of the Father in truth and love?

He must leave His ancient people because of their unbelief, and take a new position on high, and call out a remnant to another state of things also. Rejected as Messiah on earth, He would not be a king by the will of man to gratify the worldly desires of anyone, but go above, and there exercise His priesthood before God. It is an exact picture of what the Lord has done.

Jesus having entered the ship, the wind ceases. So it will be when Jesus returns to the remnant of His people in this world. Then also He will be worshipped as the Son of God by all who are in the ship, with the remnant of Israel. In Gennesaret Jesus again exercises the power which will one day drive out from the earth all the evil that Satan has brought in. For when He returns, the world will recognise Him.

This is a plain bordering the lake of the same name on the north-west. It is about a mile and a quarter wide and three miles long, reaching nearly to Tell Hum. It has some springs, besides three streams that cross it, and being well watered, it is a place of great fertility. Being close to Capernaum, the Lord no doubt travelled it often, and He worked many of His miracles there.

But at last the sea is passed, as it will be when He joins us at the end. Then the blessing comes, even for the earth. Then the earth will "know," like the men of Gennesaret, the One upon whom all blessing depends. And the blight on the whole frame of things will pass, along with the spiritual sickness that blight goes with and points to.

Here we have a bright scene of the coming kingdom. The Lord is received joyfully. The place of His former humiliation and rejection is now the scene of His power and glory. He has come down from the place of His intercession. His ancient people, who were in deep waters, He immediately brings to a peaceful shore. In a world filled with the works of Satan, He exercises His power in healing and blessing. He relieves a distressed and groaning creation.

In Gennesaret Jesus again exercises the power which will one day drive out from the earth all the evil that Satan has brought in. For when He returns, the world will recognise Him. It is a fine picture of the outcome of Christ's rejection, which this Gospel has already shown us taking place within the Jewish nation.

Coming into the land of Gennesaret (which means "harp") He is welcomed, and the pleasant music of great blessing breaks forth. It is a picture of the precious work of the healing hand of the Lord, as He brings in the peace and prosperity of the age to come.

"Gennesaret" may even mean "the protection of the prince." The presence of the "Prince of life" drives out sickness and distress. It is only the shadow; what will the reality be?

It is a good thing for our souls to realise this. While our Lord is away, we are not to be discouraged by difficulties. We are not to be cast down if the wind is contrary and we are toiling in vain, yet not in vain. It is He who has sent us across that troubled sea.

When He comes back again, the Lord and His disciples rejoin the shore that He has left. Then all human woe, wretchedness, weakness and sickness in this world will flee before the presence and touch of the Son of God. What we have here is the crowning and triumph of all ministry in His own ministry. The disciples are shown in their weakness meanwhile, but encouraged by the hope of His return in power and glory.