Thou hast heard an insult, it is the wind; thou art angry, it is a wave. When therefore the wind blows, and the wave swells, the ship is endangered, the heart is in jeopardy, the heart is tossed to and fro. When thou hast heard an insult, thou longest to be avenged; and, lo, avenged thou hast been, and so rejoicing in another’s harm thou hast suffered shipwreck. And why is this? Because Christ is asleep in thee. What does this mean, Christ is asleep in thee? Thou hast forgotten Christ. Rouse Him up then, call Christ to mind, let Christ awake in thee, give heed to Him. What didst thou wish? To be avenged. Hast thou forgotten, that when He was being crucified, He said, “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do?” He who was asleep in thy heart did not wish to be avenged. Awake Him up then, call Him to remembrance. The remembrance of Him is His word; the remembrance of Him is His command. And then wilt thou say if Christ, awake in thee, What manner of man am I, who wish to be avenged! Who am I, who deal out threatenings against another man? I may die perhaps before I am avenged. And when at my last breath, inflamed with rage, and thirsting for vengeance, I shall depart out of this body, He will not receive me, who did not wish to be avenged; He will not receive me, who said, “Give, and it shall be given unto you; forgive, and it shall be forgiven you.”2 Therefore will I refrain myself from my wrath, and return to the repose of my heart. Christ hath commanded the sea, tranquillity is restored.

COMFORT FOR THE FEARFUL

A Sermon

PUBLISHED ON THURSDAY, OCTOBER 8TH, 1903,

DELIVERED BY

C. H. SPURGEON,

AT THE METROPOLITAN TABERNACLE, NEWINGTON,

On Thursday Evening, October 18th, 1877.

“He saith unto them, Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”—Matthew 8:26.

THE winds were howling, the waters were roaring, and the disciples thought that the little ship must surely be engulfed in the raging sea, so they aroused their Master from his sorely-needed sleep, and cried to him, “Lord, save us: we perish.” Note well the first words that he speaks to his frightened followers. Generally, when a man is in trouble, it is best first to help him out of it if we can, and then to give him any rebuke that he may deserve. Yet we may be quite sure that our Lord Jesus Christ followed the wisest order in every case. Being aroused because there was danger, he dealt first with the chief cause of danger; what was that? Not the winds or the waves, but the disciples’ unbelief. There is always more peril, to a Christian, in his own unbelief than in the most adverse circumstances by which he may be surrounded. Our Lord did not first rebuke the winds and waves, and then speak to the disciples; but he dealt with the chief peril first by rebuking their unbelief.

I think I may venture to say—though, to omnipotence, all things are possible,—that it was an easier task for Christ to calm the winds and the waves than to still the tumult raised by doubt in his disciples’ minds; he could more swiftly cause a calm to fall upon the stormy surface of the Galilean lake than upon the perturbed spirits of his terrified apostles. The mental always excels the physical; the ruling of hearts is a greater thing than the governing of winds and waves. So, beloved, when we have to battle with trouble, let us always begin with ourselves,—our own fears, mistrusts, suspicions, selfishness, and self-will,—for the chief danger lies there. All the trouble in the world cannot harm you so much as half a grain of unbelief. Poverty cannot make you so poor as mistrust can; and sickness cannot make you so sick as unbelief can. The greatest evil to be dreaded is that of doubting your Lord. May God grant you grace to take this estimate of unbelief; and because Christ first rebuked that, and then the winds and the waves, so do you first seek to have yourself under proper control, so that, afterwards, you may be able to overcome your difficulties, whatever they may be. He who is, by the grace of God, enabled to master his own soul, need not doubt that he shall also be master of everything that opposes him.

I am going to try, as the Spirit of God shall help me, to minister consolation to any who are suffering through fear; and I shall speak, first, to those who are Christ’s disciples, and who know that they are his; and then, secondly, I shall speak to those who would not like to say that they are not his disciples, but who yet dare not say that they are,—the many, who fain would be his, but who hardly dare to hope that he is willing to have them as his disciples. To them I shall say, as Christ said to his apostles, “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

I. So, first, I shall apply the question in my text to THOSE WHO REALLY ARE THE LORD’S PEOPLE,—those who are in the boat with Christ, his disciples, who follow him, and keep near to him: “Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”

First, why is it that you doubt his love? He brought you on to this stormy sea, he bade you take ship, and he knew all about this storm coming on. Do you think, because of your present experience, that he does not love you? You dare not utter such a calumny. Look back at your past life, and see how patiently he has borne with you. Your slowness in learning has not made your Divine Teacher angry, but he has still gone on teaching you. Do you remember when he first called you by his grace, and what you were when he called you? Do you recollect what you have been since he called you? Yet he has still continued to love you, and has not cast you away. Look back, I pray you, upon the many times in which he has appeared for you, bringing you through very severe trials, and sustaining you under very heavy burdens. After all this, do you mistrust him? Can you do so? Will you imitate the language of the unbelieving Israelites, and say, “Is it because there were no graves on shore that the Lord has brought us out upon this stormy sea?” Do you suspect that he has brought you thus far, encouraging you with many hopes, allaying your fears, and supplying your necessities, on purpose that he might overwhelm you with disappointment? Has he been trifling with you in all this,—exciting desires and expectations in you which, after all, are not to be fulfilled, but you are to be left to perish? Oh, no! each believer can confidently sing,—

“Can he have taught me to trust in his name,

And thus far have brought me to put me to shame?”

It is impossible that he can have done this; it is altogether unlike him, and inconsistent with all his past treatment of us, and with his well-known character. Come, child of God, you know that he loves you, after all. The proofs and pledges of that love rise up before your memory, so you cannot think that he will suffer you to be cast away. Will he allow your present troubles to destroy you, when so many others have not been able even to hurt a hair of your head? Trust in his love, and dismiss your fears.

Let me turn to another side of this truth. Do you doubt your Lord’s power? These disciples ought not to have done so, for they had lately been eye-witnesses of many remarkable displays of his power. Had they not seen him cast out devils? Had they not been with him when a touch of his had healed the leper,—when, another time, the laying of his hand upon the fevered brow had raised the sick one from her bed? Had they not come fresh from a mass of miracles where, in the crowded street, he had dealt out healing to all manner of sufferers? How could they doubt his power when, before their own eyes, they had seen it so wonderfully displayed? Is he Master of devils, and not of winds? Can he cast out diseases, and not lull to sleep the roaring billows? It was both absurd and wicked for them to think of setting a limit to his unbounded power. And now, you dear child of God, after the experience you have had of his goodness, and after what you know the Lord did for you by his redeeming love in ages past,—dare you say that he has not power to deliver you now? Is anything too hard for the Lord? You say that you are poor; but can he not supply your need? Are not the cattle upon a thousand hills his own? Does he not claim the silver and gold as his treasure? He can feed the universe; he has done it these many centuries, and he is still doing it. The commissariat of the whole universe has depended upon his perpetual benevolence and care; and yet, from day to day, the hosts of birds, and beasts, and fishes, and insects, still are fed. And will not he, who supplies the wants of all living creatures by simply opening his hand, find food enough for his own child? Will you doubt his power? Is your case a very peculiar and difficult one? Do you draw a line, and say, “This God can do, but that he cannot do”? Is that right? Is it reasonable? Granted that he is omnipotent,—and he is omnipotent, whether you admit it or not,—and you have done away with difficulties. O thou with little faith in God’s power, wherefore dost thou doubt? He can—he will—help thee, if thou wilt but trust him to do so