The close of Matt. xiv. presents a scene in the life of our apostle on
which we may dwell with profit for a few moments. It furnishes a very
fine illustration of his own touching inquiry, "Lord, to whom shall we
go?"
Our Lord having fed the multitude, and sent His disciples across the
sea, retired into a mountain, to be alone in prayer. In this we have a
striking foreshadowing of the present time. Jesus has gone on high.
Israel is for the present set aside, but not forgotten. Days of
trouble will come--rough seas and stormy skies will fall to the lot of
the remnant; but their Messiah will return, and deliver them out of
all their troubles. He will bring them to their desired haven, and all
will be peace and joy for the Israel of God.
All this is fully unfolded on the page of prophecy, and is of the
deepest interest to every lover of God and His word; but for the
present we can merely dwell upon the inspired record concerning Simon
Peter, and seek to learn the lesson which that record so forcibly
teaches. "And straightway Jesus constrained His disciples to get into
a ship, and to go before Him unto the other side, while He sent the
multitudes away. And when He had sent the multitudes away, He went up
into a mountain apart to pray; and when the evening was come, He was
there alone. But the ship was now in the midst of the sea, tossed
with waves, for the wind was contrary. And in the fourth watch of the
night Jesus went unto them, walking on the sea. And when the disciples
saw Him walking on the sea, they were troubled, saying, It is a
spirit; and they cried out for fear. But straightway Jesus spake unto
them, saying, Be of good cheer; it is I; be not afraid. And Peter
answered Him, and said, Lord, if it be Thou, bid me come unto Thee on
the water. And He said, Come. And when Peter was come down out of the
ship, he walked on the water to go to Jesus. But when he saw the wind
boisterous, he was afraid; and beginning to sink, he cried, saying,
Lord, save me. And immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and
caught him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst
thou doubt?"
This brief passage presents to our view in a very forcible way some of
the leading features of Simon Peter's character. His zeal, his energy,
his real devotedness of heart, no one can for a moment call in
question; but these very qualities--beautiful as they surely are--led
him not unfrequently into a position of such prominence as to render
his weak points all the more conspicuous. A man of less zeal, less
energy, would have remained on board the ship, and thus avoided
Peter's failure and breakdown. Perhaps, too, men of cooler temperament
would condemn as unwarrantable rashness Peter's act in leaving the
ship, or pronounce it a piece of forwardness which justly deserved a
humiliating rebuff.
All this may be so; but we are free to confess that the zeal, energy
and devotedness of this beloved servant of Christ have far more
powerful charms for the heart than the cool, calculating,
self-considering spirit which, in order to avoid the shame and
humiliation of a defeat, refuses to take a bold and decided step for
Christ. True it is that Peter in the interesting scene now before us
completely broke down. But why did he? Was it because he left the
ship? No; but because he ceased to look in simple faith to Jesus. Here
lay the root of his failure. Had he only kept his eye on the Master,
he could have walked on the water though ever so rough. Faith can walk
on rough water as easily as on smooth. Nature cannot walk on either.
It is not a question of the state of the water, but the state of the
heart. Circumstances have nothing to do with faith, except, indeed,
that when difficult and trying, they develop its power and brightness.
There was no reason whatever, in the judgment of faith, why Peter
should have failed in his walk on the water. Faith looks not at the
things that are seen and temporal, but at the things which are unseen
and eternal. It endures as seeing Him who is invisible. "Faith is the
evidence of things _not seen_." It lifts the heart above the winds and
waves of this rough world, and keeps it in perfect peace, to the
praise of Him who is the Giver of faith, as of "every good and perfect
gift."
But our beloved apostle utterly failed in faith on the occasion now
before us. He, as we, alas! so often do, took his eye off the Lord
and fixed it on his surroundings, and as a consequence he immediately
began to sink. It must ever be so. We cannot get on for a single
moment save as we have the living God as a covering for our eyes. The
grand motto for the life of faith is, "Looking off unto Jesus." It is
this alone which enables us to "run the race set before us," be the
way rough or smooth. When Peter came down out of the ship, it was
either Christ or drowning. He might well say at such a moment, "Lord,
to whom shall I go?" Whither could he turn? When on board the ship, he
had its timbers between him and death, but when on the water he had
nothing but Jesus.
And was not He enough? Yes, verily, if only Peter could have trusted
Him. This is the point. All things are possible to him that believeth.
Storms are hushed into a perfect calm, rough seas become like glass,
lofty mountains are leveled, when faith brings the power of God to
bear. The greater the difficulties, the brighter the triumphs of
faith. It is in the furnace that the real preciousness of faith is
displayed. Faith has to do with God, and not with men or things. If we
cease to lean on God, we have nothing but a wild, watery waste--a
perfect chaos--around us, where nature's resources must hopelessly
fail.
All this was proved by Simon Peter when he came down out of the ship
to walk on the water; and every child of God and every servant of
Christ must prove it in his measure, for Peter's history is full of
great practical lessons for us all. If we want to walk above the
circumstances of the scene through which we are passing--if we would
rise superior to its influences--if we would be able to give an
answer, clear, distinct, and decided, to the skepticism, the
rationalism and the infidelity of the day in which we live--then,
assuredly, we must keep the eye of faith firmly fixed on "the Author
and Perfecter of faith." It is not by logical skill or intellectual
power we shall ever meet the arguments of the infidel, but by an
abiding sense, a living and soul-satisfying apprehension, of the
all-sufficiency of Christ--Himself--His work--His word--to meet our
every need, our every exigence.
But it may be the reader feels disposed to condemn Peter for leaving
the ship. He may think there was no need for his taking such a step.
Why not abide with his brethren on board the vessel? Was it not
possible to be quite as devoted to Christ in the ship as on the water?
And, further, did not the sequel prove that it would have been far
better, and safer, and wiser, for Peter to remain where he was, than
to venture forth on a course which he was not able to pursue?
To all this we reply that our apostle was evidently governed by an
earnest desire to be nearer to his Lord. And this was right. He saw
Jesus walking on the water, and he longed to be with Him. And,
further, he had the direct authority of his Lord for leaving the ship.
We fully and freely grant that without this it would have been a
fatal mistake to leave his position; but the moment that word "Come"
fell on his ear he had a divine warrant for going forth upon the
water--yea, to have remained would have been to miss great blessing.
Thus it is in every case. We must have authority before we can act in
anything. Without this, the greater our zeal, energy, and apparent
devotedness, the more fatal will be our mistake, and the more mischief
we shall do to ourselves, to others, and to the cause of Christ. It is
of the very last possible importance in every case, but especially
where there is a measure of zeal, earnestness, and energy, that there
should be sober subjection to the authority of the Word. If there be
not this, there is no calculating the amount of mischief which may be
done. If our devotedness flow not in the channel of simple obedience,
if it rush over the embankments formed by the word of God, the
consequences must be most disastrous.
But there is another thing which stands next in importance to the
authority of the _divine Word_, and that is the abiding realization of
the _divine presence_. These two things must never be separated if we
want to walk on the water. We may be quite clear and settled in our
own minds, having distinct authority for any given line of action; but
if we have not with equal distinctness the sense of the Lord's
presence with us--if our eyes are not continually on the living
God--we shall most assuredly break down.
This is very serious, and demands the gravest consideration of the
Christian reader. It was precisely here that Peter failed. He did not
fail in obedience, but in realized dependence. He acted on the word of
Jesus in leaving the ship, but he failed to lean on the arm of Jesus
in walking on the water; hence his terror and confusion. Mere
authority is not enough; we want power. To act without authority is
wrong. To act without power is impossible. The authority for starting
is the word. The power to proceed is the divine presence. The
combination of the two must ever yield a successful career. It matters
not in the smallest degree what the difficulties are if we have the
stable authority of Holy Scripture for our course, and the blessed
support of the presence of God in pursuing it. When God speaks, we
must obey; but in order to do so, we must lean on His arm. "Have not I
commanded you?" "Lo, I am with you."
Here are the two things so absolutely essential to every child of God
and every servant of Christ. Without these, we can do nothing; with
them, we can do all things. If we have not a "Thus saith the Lord," or
"It is written," we cannot enter upon a path of devotedness; and if we
have not His realized presence, we cannot pursue it. It is quite
possible to be right in setting out, and yet to fail in going on.
It was so in the case of Simon Peter, and it has been so in the case
of thousands since. It is one thing to make a good start, and another
thing to make good progress. It is one thing to leave the ship, and
another thing to walk on the water. Peter did the former, but he
failed in the latter. This beloved servant of Christ broke down in his
course; but where did he find himself? In the arms of a loving
Saviour. "Lord, save me!" How touching! How deeply affecting! He casts
himself upon a well-known love--a love which was yet to meet him in
far more humiliating circumstances. Nor was he disappointed. Ah, no!
Blessed be God, no poor failing creature can ever appeal to that love
in vain. "And immediately Jesus stretched forth His hand, and caught
him, and said unto him, O thou of little faith, wherefore didst thou
doubt?" Exquisite 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. The grace of our Lord Jesus is exceeding
abundant. He takes occasion from our very failures to display His rich
and precious love. Oh, how blessed to have to do with such a tender,
patient, loving Lord! Who would not trust Him and praise Him, love Him
and serve Him?