The Sabbath School by Ellen G. White

Seventh-day Adventist Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Jul 14, 1881

The Sabbath School.

By Ellen G. White

LESSON FOR PACIFIC COAST.—JULY 16.

Stilling the Tempest, and Healing the Demoniacs.—Matt. 8:18-34, Mark 4:35-41; Luke 8:22-39.

LESSON COMMENTS.

After dismissing the multitude, Jesus and his disciples took ship for the other side of the sea, which was a desert in comparison with the shore that they were leaving; but for this very reason they hoped to find rest from the fatigue of their labors, being removed from the dwellings of men. However, as they were moving off, a number of boats loaded with people followed Jesus, desirous of learning more concerning the doctrine that he taught.

The Saviour was wearied from his long and arduous labors, and being now for a time relieved from the claims of the multitude, he stretched himself upon the hard plank of the fishermen's boat and fell asleep. Soon after, the weather, which had been calm and pleasant, changed. The clouds gathered darkly over the sky, and a furious storm, such as frequently visited those parts, burst upon the sea. The sun had set, and the blackness of night settled down upon the water. The angry waves dashed against the ship, threatening every moment to engulf it. First tossed upon the crest of a mountain billow, and then as suddenly plunged into the trough of the sea, the ship was the plaything of the storm. Finally, it was discovered that it had sprung a leak and was fast filling with water. All was now hurry and confusion in the darkness and amid the roaring of the angry waves. The strong and courageous fishermen were skilled in managing their craft; but, experienced as they were to the changing moods of the sea, they knew not what to do in so terrible a gale, and their hearts filled with despair as they perceived that the boat was sinking.

They had been so engaged in their efforts to save themselves and keep the ship afloat, that they had forgotten that Jesus was on board. But now, as their courage fails them, and they think themselves lost, they remember that it was he who commanded them to cross the sea. In their agony of fear they turn to him, remembering how he had once saved them in a like peril. They call, "Master! Master!" but the roaring of the tempest drowns their voices, and there is no reply. The waves break over them, and each one threatens them with destruction.

They rush to him, and bending over his prostrate form, cry out reproachfully, "Master, Master, carest thou not that we perish?" This despairing cry arouses Jesus from his refreshing sleep. As the disciples rush to their oars, to make a last effort, Jesus rises to his feet. In divine majesty he stands in the humble vessel of the fishermen, amid the raging of the tempest, the lightning playing about his calm and fearless countenance. He lifts his hand, so often employed in deeds of mercy, and says to the angry sea, "Peace, be still." The storm ceases, the heaving billows sink to rest. The clouds roll away, and the stars shine forth; the boat sits motionless upon a quiet sea. Then, turning to his disciples, Jesus rebukes them, saying, "Why are ye so fearful? how is it that ye have no faith?"

A sudden hush crept over the disciples. Not a word was spoken; even impulsive Peter did not attempt to express the reverential awe that filled his heart. The boats that had set out to accompany Jesus had been in the same peril with that of the disciples. Fear, and finally despair, had seized their occupants; but the command of Jesus had brought quiet where but a moment before all was tumult. All fear was allayed, for the danger was over. The fury of the storm had driven the boats into close proximity, and all on board beheld the miracle of Jesus. In the hush that followed the stilling of the tempest, they whispered among themselves, "What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey him?" Never was this impressive scene forgotten by those who witnessed it. Never will its wonderful majesty fail to inspire the children of God with reverence and awe.—Life of Christ, by Mrs. E. G. White.

The boat had been driven to the southern end of the Lake, and Christ consequently landed in the territory of the city of Gadara, a half-heathen town on the table-land, twelve hundred feet above the shore, and at some distance from it. It was then in its glory, and lay round the top of the hill, looking far over the country. Long avenues of marble pillars lined its streets; fine buildings of squared stones abounded. Two great amphitheaters of black basalt adorned the west and north sides, and there was a third theater near its splendid public baths. It was the proud home of a great trading community, to whom life was bright and warm when Jesus landed that morning, on the shore beneath, and looked up towards its walls.

The hill on which Gadara stands is of soft limestone, full, like the limestone of Palestine generally, of larger and smaller caves, many of which had been enlarged by the poorer classes and turned into dwelling places, for which they are used even yet, while others had been converted to tombs, with massy stone doors. The roadside is still strewn with a number of sarcophagi of basalt, sculptured with low reliefs of genii, garlands, wreaths of flowers, and human faces, in good preservation, though long emptied of their dead.

Madness in every form has, in all ages, been treated by the rude therapeutics of the East as a supernatural visitation, with which it is unsafe to interfere more than is needed, and, hence, even at this day, furious and dangerous maniacs may, from time to time, be seen in the towns of Palestine, in some cases, absolutely naked. Others, equally furious, often betake themselves to the mountains, and sleep in tombs and caves. In their paroxysms they become terribly dangerous, for the mental excitement gives them prodigious strength, and hence, one is sometimes a terror to a whole neighborhood.

Two such madmen, it seems, had taken up their abode in the caves and tombs, by the side of the road from the lake to Gadara, and the side made it almost impassable, from their fierceness. Jesus had hardly set his foot on shore before they sallied out towards him, shrieking amidst the wild howls of their frenzy, as they approached, in deprecation of his interference with them.—Geikie.

When the disciples and the others saw these fearful creatures rushing toward them, they fled in terror. But presently they discovered that Jesus was not with them, and they turned to see what had been his fate. They beheld him standing calmly where they had left him. He who stilled the tempest, he who had met Satan before and conquered him, did not flee before these demons. When the men, gnashing their teeth, and foaming at the mouth, approached him within a few feet, Jesus raised that hand which had beckoned the waves to rest, and the men could come no nearer. They stood raging but helpless before him.

In accents of authority he bade the unclean spirits come out of them. The words of Jesus penetrated the darkened minds of the men enough for them to dimly realize that One was near who could save them from the demons that tormented them. They fell at the feet of Jesus, worshiping him. But when they opened their mouths to entreat his mercy, the demons spoke through them and cried vehemently, "What have I to do with thee, Jesus, thou Son of the Most High God, I adjure thee by God, that thou torment me not!"

Jesus asked, "What is thy name?" and the answer was, "My name is Legion; for we are many." Using the afflicted men as mediums of communication between themselves and Jesus, they besought him not to send them away out of the country, but to let them enter into a herd of swine that was feeding near. Their request was granted; but no sooner did this occur than the swine rushed headlong down a steep precipice, and were drowned in the sea. Light dawned upon the minds of the restored lunatics. Their eyes beamed with an intelligence to which they had long been strangers. Their countenances, so long deformed into the image of Satan, became suddenly mild, the blood-stained hands were quiet, and the men praised the Lord for their deliverance from the bondage of demons.

The design of Satan, in requesting that the demons might enter into the swine, was to hedge up the way of Jesus in that region. By causing the swine to be destroyed, considerable loss was brought upon their owners; and the enemy was not deceived in thinking that this circumstance would occasion Jesus to be held in disfavor throughout the country. The keepers of the swine had seen with amazement the whole transaction. They had seen the raving madmen suddenly become sane and calm; they had beheld the whole drove of swine instantly afterward charge recklessly into the sea where they were immediately drowned. They were obliged to account to the owners for their loss; and they immediately hurried to publish the news to their employers, and to all the people. This destruction of property seemed, to the owners, of far greater magnitude than the joyful fact that two lunatics had been restored to reason, and no longer endangered the people who came in their way, nor needed the restrictions of bolts and chains.—Life of Christ, by Mrs. E. G. White.