O YE OF LITTLE FAITH

Publishing Committee · Battle Creek, Mich. · Nov 13, 1860

O YE OF LITTLE FAITH.

THE Saviour and his disciples are crossing the sea of Galilee. He is asleep in the stern of the boat. A sudden and violent storm bursts upon them. The waves cover the boat. The disciples, though fishermen, and accustomed to battle with the fury of the elements, are alarmed. They awake Jesus, crying, "Lord save; we perish." He rises to quell the tempest, but first rebukes those who had prayed to him. He does not say, "O ye unbelieving!" for if they had been utter skeptics they would not have prayed at all. There was faith in their appeal, but it was feeble; and for its feebleness they were rebuked. Let us look then at the nature of their faith.

They had seen Christ working miracles all day. His touch, his voice, had expelled diseases and devils. They believed, no doubt, that if he should arise and exert his miraculous power, he could deliver them from the wrath of the tempest; and thus they showed very great confidence in the Saviour. He had wrought no miracle hitherto on the water. He had exercised no control over winds or waves. It was a grand and noble faith, then, which led those disciples to go to that weary teacher in the stern of the boat, and ask him to save them. Perhaps not another being at that time, on earth, would have trusted as the disciples did—would have waked up the sleeping Saviour, expecting to be delivered from the fury of the night tempest.

But there was an alloy of sense in this faith. They must see before they could fully believe. Christ awake, with his eye upon the danger—Christ speaking to, or laying his hand upon the crested billows, would have inspired them with hope. But Christ sleeping in their midst, apparently unconscious, gave them no comfort. In the facts that they had embarked by his special request, and that he was with them—he the Son of God, having all knowledge and all power, and dear to the Father on high who never slumbers or sleeps—they found no comfort. And yet these are the facts which should have encouraged them. That sleeper was their divine Master. He knew all that would occur during the night when he commanded them to embark. He controlled the elements as truly while he slumbered as when he arose and rebuked them.

An absolute and perfect faith is like that of Jesus himself who slept during the storm. He had toiled all day for the glory of God. He had exhausted the strength of his human body in labors of love, and he had a right to seek repose, committing himself to the sleepless care of his heavenly Father. He knew that he was the well-beloved Son, and that he could not be forgotten or neglected, though he laid at midnight on a frail boat, rocked by the tempest. The contrast between his child-like sleep and the terror of the disciples, shows how much truer and better his faith was than theirs.

Every Christian may have the faith of Jesus on the sea. He is not the only begotten Son, but he is beloved for that Son's sake. He is a branch of the "true vine." While he tries to serve and honor God he will be guided and guarded as Jesus was. His doubts and fears are an impeachment of the gracious promises in his behalf. They grieve the hearts on high which love him; they astonish the ministering spirits which come to protect and serve him. "Little faith" is better than no faith at all, but it subjects us to a great deal of needless trouble and fear. We should seek earnestly to have the dross of sense purged away—to be able to believe because God has spoken; or because we know that God, as a reconciled Father, is omnipresent and omnipotent, and not because we see evidences of his interposition in our behalf.

This faith will not lead to sluggish inactivity. Christ toiled when there was work to do. He trusted only, without toiling, when human power and skill were insufficient. Our unbelief leads us to neglect what we can and ought to do, and to struggle and tremble when we ought to trust. When we have spent the day as Jesus spent his we may sleep at night amid the wildest tempests, as the child in its mother's arms. And sleeping thus will prepare us for the toils of a true life. There is an intimate connection between the faith of energy and the faith of repose.—Cen. Chris. Herald.