believed, [b 1 Cor. xv. 12-19.] and made the foundation of all his preaching, [c Acts xvii. 31, 32.] Indeed, the elaborate exposition of the historical grounds, on which he had arrived at the conviction of reality, [d 1 Cor. xv. 1-8.] affords an insight into the mental difficulties which it must at first have presented to him. And a similar inference may be drawn from the reference of St. Peter to the difficulties connected with the Biblical predictions about the end of the world, [e 2 Pet. iii. 4.] [1 The authenticity of the Second Epistle of St. Peter is here taken for granted, but the drift of the argument would be the same, to whatever authorship it be ascribed.]
It is not necessary to pursue this subject further. Its bearing on the miracle of Christ's walking on the Sea of Galilee will be sufficiently manifest. Yet other confirmatory evidence may
be gathered from a closer study of the details of the narrative. When Jesus 'constrained the disciples to enter into the boat, and to go before Him unto the other side, [f St. Matt. xiv. 22.] they must have thought, that His purpose was to join them by land, since there was no other boat there, save that in which they crossed the Lake, [g St. John vi. 22.] And possibly such had been his intention, till He saw their difficulty, if not danger, from the contrary wind. [2 Weiss (Matthaus-Evang. p. 372) sees a gross contradiction between what seems implied as to His original purpose and His walking on the sea, and hence rejects the narrative. Such are the assumptions of negative criticism. But it seems forgotten that, according to St. Matt. xiv. 24, the journey seems at first to have been fairly prosperous.] This must have determined Him to come to their help. And so this miracle also was not a mere display of power, but, being caused by their need, had a moral object. And when it is asked, how from the mountain-height by the Lake He could have seen at night where the ship was labouring so far on the Lake, [3 Weiss (u. s.) certainly argues on the impossibility of His having seen the boat so far out on the Lake.] it must surely have been forgotten that the scene is laid quite shortly before the Passover (the 15th of Nisan), when, of course, the moon would shine on an unclouded sky, all the more brightly on a windy spring-night, and light up the waters far across.
We can almost picture to ourselves the weird scene. The Christ is on that hill-top in solitary converse with His Father, praying after that miraculous breaking of bread: fully realising all that it implied to Him of self-surrender, of suffering, and of giving Himself as the Food of the World, and all that it implied to us of blessing and nourishment; praying also, with that scene fresh on His mind, of their seeking to make Him, even by force, their King, that the carnal might become spiritual reality (as in symbol it would be with the Breaking of Bread). Then, as He rises from His knees, knowing that, alas, it could not and would not be so to the many, He looks out over the Lake after that little company, which embodied and represented all there yet was of His Church, all that would really feed on the Bread from Heaven, and own Him their true King. Without presumption, we may venture to say, that there must have been indescribable sorrow and longing in His Heart, as His gaze was bent across the track which the little boat would follow. As we view it, it seems all symbolical: the night, the moonlight, the little boat, the contrary wind, and then also the lonely Saviour after prayer looking across to where the boatmen vainly labour to gain the other shore. As in the clear moonlight just that piece of water stands out, almost like burnished silver, with all else in shadows around, the sail-less mast is now rocking to and fro, without moving forward. They are in difficulty, in danger: and the Saviour cannot pursue His journey on foot by land; He must come to their help, though it be across the water. It is needful, and therefore it shall be upon the water; and so the storm and unsuccessful toil shall not prevent their reaching the shore, but shall also be to them for teaching concerning Him and His great power, and concerning His great deliverance; such teaching as, in another aspect of it, had been given them in symbol in the miraculous supply of food, with all that it implied (and not to them only, but to us also) of precious comfort and assurance, and as will for ever keep the Church from being overwhelmed by fear in the stormy night on the Lake of Galilee, when the labour of our oars cannot make way for us.
And they also who were in the boat must have been agitated by peculiar feelings. Against their will they had been 'constrained' by the Lord to embark and quit the scene; just as the multitude, under the influence of the great miracle, were surrounding their Master, with violent insistence to proclaim him the Messianic King of Israel. Not only a Judas Iscariot, but all of them, must have been under the strongest excitement: first of the great miracle, and then of the popular
movement. It was the crisis in the history of the Messiah and of His Kingdom. Can we wonder, that, when the Lord in very mercy bade them quit a scene which could only have misled them, they were reluctant, nay, that it almost needed violence of His part? And yet, the more we consider it, was it not most truly needful for them, that they should leave? But, on the other hand, in this respect also, does there seem a 'need be' for His walking upon the sea, that they might learn not only His Almighty Power, and (symbolically) that He ruled the rising waves; but that, in their disappointment at His not being a King, they might learn that He was a King, only in a far higher, truer sense than the excited multitude would have proclaimed Him.
Thus we can imagine the feelings with which they had pushed the boat from the shore, and then eagerly looked back to descry what passed there. But soon the shadows of night were enwrapping all objects at a distance, and only the bright moon overhead shone on the track behind and before. And now the breeze from the other side of the Lake, of which they may have been unaware when they embarked on the eastern shore, had freshened into violent, contrary wind. All energies must have been engaged to keep the boat's head towards the shore. [1 According to St. Matt. xiv. 24, they seem only to have encountered the full force of the wind when they were about the middle of the Lake. We imagine that soon after they embarked there may have been a fresh breeze from the other side of the Lake, which by and by rose into a violent contrary wind.] Even so it seemed as if they could make no progress, when all at once, in the track that lay behind them, a Figure appeared. As it passed onwards over the water, seemingly upborne by the waves as they rose, not disappearing as they fell, but carried on as they rolled, the silvery moon laid upon the trembling waters the shadows of that Form as it moved, long and dark, on their track. St. John uses an expression, [2 St. John, in distinction to the Synoptists, here uses the expression (St. John vi. 19), which in the Gospels has the distinctive meaning of fixed, earnest, and intent gaze, mostly outward, but sometimes also inward, in the sense of earnest and attentive consideration. The use of this word as distinguished from merely seeing, is so important for the better understanding of the New Testament, that every reader should mark it. We accordingly append a list of the passages in the Gospels where this word is used: St. Matt, xxvii. 55; xxviii. 1; St. Mark iii. 11; v. 15, 38; xii. 41; xv. 40, 47; xvi. 4; St. Luke x. 18; xiv. 29; xxi. 6; xxiii. 35, 48; xxiv. 37, 39; St. John ii. 23; iv. 19; vi. 2 (Lachm. and Treg.), 19, 40, 62; vii. 3; viii. 51; ix. 8; x. 12; xii. 19, 45; xiv. 17, 19; xvi. 10, 16, 17, 19; xvii. 24; xx. 6, 12, 14. It will thus be seen, that the expression is more frequently used by St. John than in the other Gospels, and it is there also that its distinctive meaning is of greatest importance.] which shows us in the pale light, those in the boat, intently, fixedly, fearfully, gazing at the Apparition as It neared still closer and closer. We must remember their previous excitement, as also the presence, and, no doubt, the superstitious suggestions of the boatman, when we think how they cried out for fear, and deemed It an Apparition. And 'He would have passed by them,' [a St. Mark vi. 48.] as He so often does in our case, bringing them, indeed, deliverance, pointing and smoothing their way, but not giving them His known Presence, if they had not cried out. But their fear, which made them almost hesitate to receive Him into the boat, [1 This seems to me implied in the expression, St. John vi. 21: 'Then they were willing to take Him into the ship.' Some negative critics have gone so far as to see in this graphic hint a contradiction to the statements of the Synoptists. (See Lucke, Comment, u. d. Evang. Joh. ii. pp. 120-122.).] even though the outcome of error and superstition, brought His ready sympathy and comfort, in language which has so often, and in all ages, converted foolish fears of misapprehension into gladsome, thankful assurance: 'It is I, be not afraid!'
And they were no longer afraid, though truly His walking upon the waters might seem more awesome than any 'apparition.' The storm in their hearts, like that on the Lake, was commanded by His Presence. We must still bear in mind their former excitement, now greatly intensified by what they had just witnessed, in order to understand the request of Peter: 'Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come to Thee on the water.' They are the words of a man, whom the excitement of the moment has carried beyond all reflection. And yet this combination of doubt ('if it be Thou'), with presumption ('bid me come on the water'), is peculiarly characteristic of Peter. He is the Apostle of Hope, and hope is a combination of doubt and presumption, but also their transformation. With reverence be it said, Christ could not have left the request ungranted, even though it was the outcome of yet unreconciled and untransformed doubt and presumption. He would not have done so, or doubt would have remained doubt untransformed; and He could not have done so, without also correcting it, or presumption would have remained presumption untransformed, which is only upward growth, without deeper rooting in inward spiritual experience. And so He bade him come upon the water, [2 As to the physical possibility of it, we have to refer to our former remarks.] to transform his doubt, but left him, unassured from without, to his own feelings as he saw the wind, [3 The word 'boisterous' must be struck out as an interpolated gloss.] to transform his presumption; while by stretching out His Hand to save him from sinking, and by the words of correction which He spake, He did actually so
