The lessons of the Church are so dispensed by a divine mystery that they both confer a loftier knowledge upon the learned, and bestow the grace of saving understanding upon the simple. 'When Christ had gone up into the little boat,' it is related, a great tumult, an emboldened tempest arose. 'When he had gone up,' it says, 'into the little boat, his disciples followed him, and behold, a great commotion arose in the sea, so that the boat was covered with the waves; but he himself was sleeping' (Matt. 8:23). The sea, which had submitted its swelling ridges beneath the feet of Christ, laid its crests flat upon the level, curbed its motion, restrained its waves, and served with rocky solidity as a way over the flowing surface (John 6);
why is it that it rages, storms, and strives against its Author to the very danger of himself? Why did Christ himself, who foreknew things to come, seem so ignorant of things present that he did not guard against the imminent storm, the hour of tempest, the time of peril; but, while all were awake, was then alone held in sleep, when so great a crisis was hanging over himself and his own? Brethren, it is not a serene calm that proves the skill of the helmsman, but a stormy tempest: when the breeze is gentle, the meanest sailor steers the ship; in the confusion of the winds, the art of the chief master is sought. Hence it is that the disciples, after they saw that the industry of the sailors had failed them,
that the sea was raging, that the waves were assailing them, that the whirlwinds of the winds had gathered against them, in trembling took refuge in the very Governor of things, the Ruler of the world, the Master of the elements, begging that he would calm the waves, remove the danger, and restore salvation to the despairing. Then, when his command alone bound the sea, drove back the winds, took away the whirlwinds, and gave quiet, the sailors perceived, believed, and confessed that he himself was the Author of all things. But now let us bring forth what lies within. When Christ, about to carry the ship of his Church across the sea of this world, went up into it, the blasts of the nations, the whirlwinds of the Jews, the storms of the persecutors, the clouds of the mob, the mists of the demons, so rushed in that of the whole world there was made one tempest.
The waves of kings foamed, the billows of the powers seethed, the fury of subjects roared, the whirlpools of peoples were spun about, the reefs of faithlessness were marked out, the Christian shores bellowed, the shipwrecks of the fallen were tossed to and fro, and there was of the whole world one peril and one shipwreck. Then the disciples came to the Lord and woke him, saying: 'Lord, save us, we perish'; and Jesus said to them, 'Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?' Christ therefore, roused by the disciples, rebukes the sea, that is, the world, calms the globe, softens kings, appeases the powers, stills the waves, composes the peoples, and makes the Romans Christians.
From these very men also he made executors of the word those who had been persecutors of the Christian name, and gave them the Christian faith. This tranquillity Christian princes preserve, the Church holds, Christendom possesses, and the pagan world admires. 'Then,' it says, 'rising, he commanded the winds and the sea, and there was made a great calm. Moreover, those men marvelled, saying: What manner of man is this, that both the winds and the sea obey him?' These who come to the Lord, who wake him, who beg with humble supplication that he save them, are the disciples; but they are called 'men' who marvel that the elements obeyed Christ in such a way.
They are truly men, and men of this world, who marvel that the world was thus converted to obedience to Christ, who are astonished that the peaks of the temples, like the swellings of the waves, were thus cast down, who see that the foam of the idols and the whirlwinds of the demons thus fled away — men whom the deep and diffused tranquillity of the Christian name throughout the whole world renders astounded. And truly, brethren, while Christ slept in death, a great tempest arose in the Church; while Christ rose from the dead, a great calm was restored to the Church, as it is written. Now let us rouse Christ sleeping within us with the whole groaning of our hearts, with the voice of faith, with Christian tears, with deep weeping, with apostolic cries, and let us say: 'Lord, save us, we perish.'
And because the lesson fittingly suits the season, and as it is written: 'The north wind is a harsh wind' (Prov. 25:23), yet the wind which brings upon us nations so wild, so bitter, is called by the name 'Favourable'; this north wind, then, a harsh wind, spreads itself through the south-west, through the African wind, through the south wind, through the east wind, with a dismal whirlwind, confounds the seas, blots out the air, casts down mountains, swallows cities, sinks provinces, and compels the whole world to be one shipwreck. Hence it is that the little boat of Christ is now lifted up to heaven, now descends into the depths of alarms, now is governed by the strength of Christ, now is tossed by dread, now is covered by the waves of the passions, now swims out by the oars of confessions. But let us, brethren, again and again cry out: 'Lord, save us, we perish.'
And truly, brethren, if we were one, and one human body, if we believed those who perish to be our own bowels, we would cry out unceasingly with the affliction of fasting, with the groaning of prayers, with the pouring out of tears: 'Lord, save us, we perish.' And we would strive to come to our own aid in our brethren; nor would we see the sea of our blood upon the land with the raging sword, nor would we feel such great shipwrecks not only of bodies but even of souls, and we would pray with humble voice: 'Lord, save us, we perish.' Yet no compassion, no piety, no dread, no shame of any kind, no compunction rouses us to grief.
It is of God, of God, that we are pressed by evils, that we are ever scourged, that the nations prevail, that hail falls, that blight infects, that impiety has power, that disease holds sway, that death rages, that the earth trembles: yet we neither tremble, nor fear, nor turn away from evils, nor seek after good things. Avarice rages, pomp pants, iniquity pleases, other men's goods delight us, but our own things perish; the scourges of God come, but it is our own faults that provoke them. If God is just, surely he is merciful toward us. Brethren, let us return to the Lord, that God may return to us; let us renounce evils, that good things may answer.
Let us serve God, who is good, that we may not serve evil nations and iniquitous powers, with Christ our Lord and Governor helping us, whose honour and majesty endure without end unto the ages of ages. Amen. As often as Christ sleeps in our ship, and is lulled to slumber in the body by the sleep of our sloth, a storm rushes in with all the confusion of the winds, the threatening waves rage, and while they are again and again lifted up and cast down with foaming billows, they beget for the sailors shipwrecks bitter in expectation, as the present reading of the evangelist has declared, saying: 'And Jesus said to them on that day, when evening had come, Let us pass over to the other side; and dismissing the crowd, they take him, even as he was, in the boat' (Mark 4:35-36). 'And Jesus said to them on that day.' On what day?
That day, namely, on which, according to Isaiah, he rises up to shatter the earth (Isa. 2:19); that day on which all the brightness of worldly light grows dark toward evening; that day on which, as the night of temptations draws near, the phantoms of vanities to be fled from multiply. 'When evening had come.' It is then evening when the last time and the final hour announce to human senses the confusions of things that are to come. 'Let us pass over to the other side' — from earthly things to heavenly, from present things to future. And well does he say 'to the other side,' because divine things are always contrary to human: while these draw their subjects down to frailty, those which follow after virtue lift them up. 'And dismissing the crowd.' They dismiss the crowd who forsake the popular breath and the mob, ever wandering with uncertain judgment;
nor, given over to human rumours, are they held back from the path of virtue, but, stable and secure in a good conscience, they pass through the lying waves of praises and disparagements with Christ accompanying them. 'And they take him,' it says, 'even as he was, in the boat.' What is this? Christ is one way in heaven, another way is Christ held in the boat; in one way he is perceived in the majesty of the Father, in another in the humility of man; in one way coeternal with the Father, in another discerned as temporal, laid down before us by the stages of the ages; in one way he sleeps in our body, in another he keeps watch in the holiness of his own Spirit. 'They take him even as he was,' it says, 'in the boat.' It is the praise of faith so to receive Christ as he is and is held in the boat, that is, in the Church:
where he was born, where he grew up, where he suffered, where he was crucified, where he was buried, whence he is confessed to have ascended into heaven, to have sat at the right hand of the Father, whence he is to come as judge of the living and the dead — this is the singular salvation to confess. Whoever has so confessed and taken up Christ in our boat, even though he is battered by the scandals of the waves, is nevertheless not sunk by the perils nor covered by the billows. 'And there was made,' it says, 'a great storm of wind, and the waves were beating into the boat, so that the boat was being filled. And there was made a great storm': it did not dare to test the power of the sleeping Lord, but that it might strike the same fear into the disciples, to betray their dread, that it might show how much service it owed to its Author. 'And he was,' it says, 'in the stern, sleeping.'
To the sleeper the wakeful flee for refuge; and they believe that he can withstand the raging elements, whom they behold to dominate the heights with utter mastery; they contemplate that the slumber of human necessity had so rushed upon him that he could be roused neither by the roar of the sea, nor by the clamour of the waves, nor by the extreme shipwreck threatening. And where is that saying: 'Behold, he shall not slumber nor sleep, who keeps Israel' (Ps. 121:4)? Through himself the Majesty does not sleep, nor slumber, being free from weariness, ignorant of rest; but he does all things to me through me for my sake, who, as often as he changes the appearance of his action or of his countenance, so often reproves the changeableness and the faults of our souls. Hear the prophet saying: 'His eyelids question the sons of men' (Ps. 11:4).
See how the eyes of God are closed, that they may not see those who transgress, so as to punish them. 'Turn away,' he says, 'thy face from my sins' (Ps. 51:9). And again, opening them, that they may spur on those who run, that they may raise up the weary, he looks upon those who supplicate. This sleep of the Lord, then, tests the faith of the disciples, betrays their doubt, and reveals them to be of little belief, who believe that the elements can rise up not only against themselves, but against their very Author. 'The waves,' it says, 'were beating into the boat.'
For to the extent that the multitudes of the waves of the nations shake the Lord's ship from without and pour in upon it, to that same extent the swollen waves of heretics rush in and rage within. This tempest the blessed Paul declares that he endured, when he says: 'Fightings without, fears within' (2 Cor. 7:5). 'So that the boat was being filled.' Rightly does the evangelist report that the boat was filled with foaming waves, since the Church suffers almost as many heresies as we read there are questions of the divine law. 'And he was,' it says, 'himself in the stern, sleeping upon a pillow; and they wake him and say to him, Master, does it not concern you that we perish? And rising up, he rebuked the wind and said to the sea: Be silent, be still; and the wind ceased, and there was made a great calm.'
'And he said to them, Why are you fearful, having not yet faith?' While the reading unfolds the event, the season commends it by the example. For indeed a great and quite grievous stormy tempest threatens, while the raging and destructive whirl of the winds thrusts itself in on every side: the seas bellow; the very islands are undermined to their foundations, and all the shores are struck with a dismal sound. But because, as we have said, Christ sleeps in our ship, let us come to him more by faith than by body, and let us knock at him rather by the work of mercy than by the touch of the despairing. Let us rouse him not with insolent uproar, but with the cry of spiritual songs; not with wicked murmuring, but with vigilant supplication.
Let us give to God some portion of the time of our life, lest that unhappy vanity and pitiable anxiety consume the whole day; lest a destructive sleep and empty slumber spend the whole night, but let a part likewise of day and of night be assigned to the very Author of the seasons. Watch, O man, watch; you have an example, that what the cock renders to you, his host, you may render to your Creator, especially since he sings to you for your profit, when he wakes you to work, when he announces the day, now near at hand: how much more does it befit you to rouse yourself with heavenly hymns to God, from his lofty seat, unto salvation. Hear the prophet saying: 'From the night my spirit watches unto thee, O God' (Isa. 26:9). And the Psalmist: 'With my hands in the night before him, and I was not deceived' (Ps. 77:3).
But three times of the day the same Psalmist admonishes that they be assigned to God, saying: 'Evening and morning and at noon will I recount and declare, and he will hear my voice' (Ps. 55:18). Through which three times, while Daniel diligently supplicated God, he obtained not only the foreknowledge of things to come, but also merited the liberty of his people, long held captive (Dan. 6:10). Let us therefore say what the prophet said: 'Arise, why sleepest thou, O Lord? Arise, and cast us not off unto the end' (Ps. 44:23). Let us say with the apostles: 'Master, does it not concern you that we perish?'
And a true master indeed, because he is not only the maker of all the elements, but is also their moderator and ruler; who, when he has heard us, when he has deigned to keep watch, then the waves will be smoothed, the swollen billows will be laid low, and the hills; the winds will scatter, the storm will perish, and that tempest which threatens — the great tempest — will be changed into the greatest tranquillity. Rewards are always set before those to whom hard contests are proposed, and according to the greatness of the contest the greatness of the reward is proposed. Hence it is that Christ sets the kingdom in the lap of his disciples, that in the contest they may not yield to perils nor to fear: he despises perils who strives toward a kingdom; he who is eager for victory knows not how to fear.
'Fear not,' he says, 'little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom' (Luke 12:32). A little flock to the world, great to God; little, because he calls glorious those whom he has trained to the innocence of sheep and to Christian meekness; it is a little flock which is not diminished from being great, but grows from being little; the little flock so designates the infancy of the nascent Church, which he soon promises will come to the insignia of his kingdom by heavenly increases. 'Fear not, little flock, for it has pleased your Father to give you the kingdom.' He added what must be done by one who is to reign: 'Sell what you possess and give alms; make for yourselves purses that do not grow old, a treasure that fails not in heaven.' 'Sell what you possess':
none can rule over all things save he who is not held fast by his own possessions; it is the mark of a debased mind to remember household property when called to a kingdom; a grovelling, plebeian spirit sets a paltry coin before royal treasures; a poor understanding, brooding over small things, loses great ones; and, gaping after temporal things, it forsakes the everlasting. 'Sell,' he says, 'what you possess and give alms; make for yourselves purses that do not grow old, a treasure that fails not in heaven.' O man, by such counsel Christ wished you to safeguard, not to strip yourself; he wished your goods to remain yours, not to perish; to be made perpetual, not to be emptied out: he commanded purses; he bade you transfer, not lose. 'A treasure that fails not in heaven, where the thief does not approach nor the moth corrupt.'
He acts more by the counsel of a father than by the right of one who lords it: he rebukes you for hiding your possessions amid the snares of robbers and the gnawing of moths; you are admonished not to make for yourself sleepless nights, anxious days, careworn seasons. The guardian of gold, the keeper of silver, has no security, knows no rest, and he who lacks security loses rest; that man is rich in punishment, not in wealth. 'A treasure that fails not in heaven.' This is to say: Where I am, there place it; what is given to me I keep safe. O man, give to the Father, entrust it to God, because the Father will not deny to his heir, nor God to man, what has been entrusted; he cannot keep your things safe, because he has given his own. Does he who bestows divine things stand in need of human ones? Is he greedy for our goods, who has made us heirs of his own? Surely to those on whom he has conferred a kingdom, what will he deny?
O man, if you are to remain here, store up here the things that are yours; if you are to go thither, why do you leave here the things that are yours? He who keeps what must be left behind is the guardian of another's goods, not of his own. If in this life, in which we are pilgrims, we live, and it grieves us for a little while to be temporally poor, sad, unhonoured: what will it be in the perpetual homeland, among the eternal citizens, to endure grief from contempt, punishment from lowliness, reproach from nakedness; and now to be condemned to penalties, when others are advanced to the kingdom?
when the poor man is led to the presence of God, and the rich man is dragged to the fellowship of the punished! Alas, how lamentable the reversal, when those who were despaired of among men shall possess the divine hope, and those endowed with human goods shall be cheated of the heavenly goods! And this the treasure does, which either lifts the heart of man to heaven through almsgiving, or plunges it into the earth through avarice. And therefore he said: 'For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also.' O man, send and send ahead your treasure into the heavens, lest you plunge your heavenly soul into the earth. Gold is from the depth of the earth, the soul from the heights of heaven. It is therefore better that gold be carried up to the seat of the soul, than that the soul be plunged into the sepulchre of gold.
Stripped therefore of all cares of riches, and now in all things unencumbered, he bids those to soldier for him in the world whom he has granted to reign in heaven. 'Let your loins be girded and lamps burning in your hands, and you like men waiting for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding.' 'Let your loins be girded': there virtue must be girded, where pleasure must be restrained. He knows not how to conquer the vices of the body who lays aside the girdle of virtue. Girded therefore with the belt of chastity, which is the badge of Christian warfare, let us cut off the loose sloth of the flesh, and, ever wakeful in expectation of our King, let us not know the sleepless sleep of the world. 'They do not sleep,' it says, 'unless they have done evil' (Prov. 4:16).
'And lamps burning in your hands.' Blessed are they in whose hands the lamps of good works shine. For thus: 'Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father who is in heaven' (Matt. 5:16). And as a lamp before the eyes, so a good work shines in the minds of men. It shines not only to the one carrying the lamp, but to many; and a good work, while by the deed it shines in one, illumines many by example. A lamp drives away the darkness of the nights, a good work puts to flight the shadows of malice. Let us kindle the lamp of good works in our hands, if we wish to shine before the Lord and before men. 'And you like men waiting for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding.'
Because torches are always the friends of weddings, the chastity of a marriage is celebrated by the testimony of lights. For just as he who presumes to unlawful things flees the light, so he who seeks lawful things flashes forth in manifold light. 'And you like men waiting for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding.' They are men who, in the manner of due service, await the coming of their lord with tireless watches; but those who so serve the belly that they know not the divine service, and, anxious for the pleasure of the flesh, have lost the anxious care of meeting the Lord, are not to be called men, but beasts of burden. 'And you like men waiting for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding.'
From the time that Christ came to betroth his Church to himself, the bridal chamber of the bride is adorned, and adorned with the gold of faith, the silver of wisdom, the gems of the virtues, the veils of holiness, the roses of modesty, the lilies of chastity, the violets of shamefastness. And to the heights of heaven the temple of purity, the pinnacle of virginity, is raised up: nor are there wanting the harps of the psalms, the prophetic instruments, the voices of the apostles, and all the harmonies of the heavenly wedding. Enough of a slave to sleep is he who by such and so great a cry is not roused to the nuptials of the heavenly King. 'And you like men waiting for their lord, when he shall return from the wedding, that when he comes and knocks, they may open to him at once.'
He comes, he knocks; the heart with a good conscience opens, the heart with an evil conscience shuts; the just mind lies open to the reward, the unjust, because it has not merited, closes itself off. Let us therefore watch, most beloved, that we may attain the blessedness which follows. 'Blessed are those servants whom, when the lord comes, he shall find watching.' Let these promises of blessedness suffice; but because Christ proclaims the charity of that very blessedness, let us defer it today, that we may hear more fully what so great a Father has promised to his sons.