The Yale expositor., 1900-06-15

reDuked the WIND and SAID unto the
sea. Peace. be STILL"
Here in Capernaum, the seashore
village. was the temporary home of
That Christ who for the most of his
life was homeless. On the site of this
village, now in ruins. and all around
this lake, what scenes of kindness
and power and glory and pathos when
our Lord lived here! l can under
stand the feeling of the immortal
Scotchman, Robert McCheyne, when,
sitting on the banks of this lake. he
wrote:
1T is not that the wild gazelle
Comes down to drink thy tide,
But he that was pierced to save from
hell
Oft wandered by thy side.
Graceful around thee the mountains
meet,
Thou calm, reposing sea.
But, ah, far more the beautiful feet
OF Jesus walked DER thee"
l can easily understand from the
contour Of the country that bounds
this lake that storms were easily
tempted to make these waters their
playground. This lake, in Christ's
time, lay in a scene of great luxuri-
ance; the surrounding hills, terra ,es,
sloped, groved; so many hanging gar
dens Of beauty. On the shore were
castles, armed towers, Roman baths,
everything attractive and beautiful
all styles Of vegetation in smaller
space than in almost any other space
in the world, from the palm tree of
the forest to the trees of rigorous
climate 1t seemd as If the Lord had
launched one wave Of beauty on all
the scene and it hung and swung from
rock and hill and oleander Roman
gentlemen in pleasure boats sailing
this lake and countrymen in fishing
smacks coming down to drop their
nets pass each other with nod and
shout and laughter or swinging idly at
their moorings. Oh. what a beautiful
scene!
It seems as IL we shall have a quiet
night Not a leaf quivered in the air,
not a ripple disturbed the face of
Gennesaret. But there seems to be
a little excitement up the beach, and
We hasten TO see what it is. ana we
find it an embarkation. From the
western shore a fiotilla pushing out;
not a squadron of deadly armament,
nor clipper with valuable merchen-
disc. nor pirate vessels ready to de-
stroy everything they could seize, but
fotilla, bearing messengers of light
and life and peace. Christ is in the
stern OF the boat His disciples are
in the bow and amidships Jesus,
weary with much speaking 70 iarge
multltudes, is put into somRoleAce by
the rocking Of the waves. II there was
any motion at all, the ship was easily
righted; if the wind passed from star
board to larboard, or from larboard
to starboard, the boat would rock and,
by the gentleness of the motion, put
ting the Master asleep. And they
extemporized a pillow made out Of a
fisherman's coat. | think no sooner is
Christ PROSTATE and his head touched
the pillow than he is sound asleep.
The breezes of the lake run their fin
gers through the locks of the worn
sleeper. and the boat rises and falls
like sleeping child on the bosom of
q sleeping mother.
Coming of the Storm.
Calm night, starry night, beautiful
night! Run up all the sails, ply all
the oars. and let the large boat and
the small boat glide over gentle Gen
nesaret. But the sailors say there is
going to be change of weather And
even the passengers can hear the
moaning of the storm as it comes on
with great stride and all the terrors
Of hurricane and darkness. The large
boat trembles like a deer at bay among
the clangor Of the hounds; great
patches of foam are flung into the air;
the sails of the vessel loosen aud in
the strong wind crack like pistols; the
smaller boats, like petrels, poise on
the cliffs of the waves and then
plunge. Overheard go cargo, tackling
and masts, and the drenched disciples
rush into the back part of the boat
and lay hold of Christ and say unto
him, Master. carest thou not that we
perish?"
That great parsonage lifts his head
from the pillow Of the fishermans
coat, walks to the front of the vessel
and looks out into the storm. All
around him are the smaller boats, driv-
en- in the tempest, and through II
comes the cry of drowning men. BY
the flash of the lightning / see the
calm brow of Christ as the spray drop
ped from his beard. He has one word
for the sky and another for the waves.
Looking upward, he cries, "Peace'"
Looking downward, he says. "Be still"
The waves fall fat on their faces, the
foam melts, the extinguished stars re-
light their torches. The tempest falls
dead, and Christ stands with his foot
on the neck OF the storm. And while
the sailors are baling out the boats
and while they are trying to untangle
the cordage the disciples stand in
arnazamanf pou 1oolyipo into tho N I'm