“And he was in the hinder part of the ship asleep on a pillow” (Matt. 4:38). It might be that some kind hand had placed this pillow for Jesus. He had said on one occasion, “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” And it is remarkable that Matthew (8:19-27) puts these words of Jesus just before His embarkation, though they were possibly uttered at another time. He had, therefore, somewhere to lay His head in that ship—soon to be tempest tossed. It may be that some loving hand arranged that pillow for Him, knowing that He was weary. It was evening when He entered the ship, probably after a long day’s toil.
We may learn a lesson from that pillow. Jesus never asked for a comfort from any when He was down here. He did ask the poor Samaritan woman for a draft of water—not that He was seeking her care, but that He might draw out her need. Still, He gave opportunities to those who longed to show their love and attention to Him. He knew that Zaccheus desired to have Him in his house, and he accepted the hospitality, because it sprang from his heart. Sometimes we may not have it in our hand to give when we have it in our heart. No matter, He looks at the heart. Do not let us judge Him with man’s judgment, and say— “I cannot do so and so; then why need I wish to do it.”
It may be that the one who arranged that pillow (if such were the case) was gladdened afterward to find that He had fallen asleep upon it. In any case, He accepted it then—yes; used it fully for Himself. It may be, too, that there was no one of all His disciples whose heart was open to give Him “the tribute money.” If there had been one He might have allowed that one to do it unto Him; but a fish must he the giver. Doubtless, if there had been one at the moment who would have longed to give Him the money, He would have sent Peter to such an one, and not to a fish. He displayed His lordship over creation in the act, of course; but would He not rather have had the need filled up from some loving heart which was looking for an opening to help? Could it be possible that, at that particular moment, not one on earth was longing to aid the Man of Sorrows? I say, “at that moment;” for it is not enough that life from God must be present in him who acts for Jesus: he must also be in a moral state of soul—in communion with God, ere Jesus will ask for his aid. The ravens fed Elijah. But if there is even a Sidonian widow, with nothing save a little oil and a handful of meal, she will have the blessedness of helping the servant of the Lord.
The Lord loves us to give to Him, but “a cheerful giver” is the one He wants. When He wanted the as for His entry into Jerusalem, He knew well who really wished to give. There He sent, and asked. All that was needful to say was, “The Lord hath need of him.” “Straightway” he would be sent. Perhaps the owners of that colt were anxiously waiting for some opportunity of service. If so, bow it strengthened their faith to find that Jesus knew all about it.
In the case of the man with the pitcher of water (Luke 22:10) we see the same thing. The “good man” of that house may have been thinking of Jesus, and saying, “ my room is a large one: how suitable it would be for the Lord and His disciples! How I wish He would eat the Passover at my house!” If so, how his heart must have leaped when the two disciples, Peter and John, came into his very house to tell him that the Master was Doming! Little did the man with the pitcher know, what his carrying the pitcher signaled. Anything—everything, can be used by God to accomplish His purposes.
But to return. We may say that we cannot lay a pillow for the head of Jesus now. I think we can lay many for Him. Is not every believer now a member of His body? Many of those members need our pillows—so to say. The “Head” is in glory, and as such, He needs them not. But Saul could persecute Him— “Why persecutest thou me?” Every word of comfort, then; every act of kindness, every little succor towards a saint, because he belongs to Jesus, is an odor of a sweet smell God-ward.
What mean the words— “And the house was filled with the odor of the ointment?” (John 12) Sooner or later, all will know what is done for, and to the Lord. The people on the house-top could know that something sweet was being offered below. Do not the angels know what is done to Jesus? We smell, as it were, the sweetness of Abraham’s sacrifice, although no eye saw it, save that of Jehovah. (Gen. 22) Envious ones may have been attracted by the odor in that house, who would not own Mary’s devotedness at all. They could not help smelling its sweet savor.
We cannot do too much for the Lord; and nothing is too little or insignificant for him to notice. Alas, how many are making pillows for their own comfort—beautiful pillows—provisions for the flesh, to fulfill its lusts. When we are thus occupied we have not large hearts towards the Lord. “The flesh” always narrows our hearts in divine love. When separation from self and the world is going on, there is room for enlargement in love and heavenly activities. (2 Cor. 6)
I do not think that the Lord will be indifferent to our bodily needs, when we are occupied with His Son. He will send us a pillow when we need it; and if He does not, He will enable us to do without it, and, it may be, even to walk the sea without the ship at all. (Matt. 14) Faith can be independent of nature; but it never despises it. Suppose I find a footpath along the road when traveling in the Lord’s work, I walk on it, and am thankful for it too; but if it is not there, I can take the center of the road; yes, or even walk through the mud. The ascetic says, “I see the footpath, but I will walk in the mud.” This “neglecting of the body” is only “voluntary humility;” but is in reality only “satisfying the flesh”—my own will. It is blessed to be above the need of the footpath, or even the road; for faith can go where no marks of man are seen. I might be pleasing the flesh within in doing without the pillow, or seeking one for my own comfort. Both would indicate a bad spiritual state. But if it be “Christ” I am occupied with, and my heart is engaged with Him, then He will guide my hands by His word and Spirit.
Let us not therefore judge by looking at outward actions -the hands of another. If we had looked at the one who was laying the pillow for Jesus (supposing it was the case); some Mary or other, “Oh! what waste of time,” we might exclaim; yet it was for Him all the time. Can I say then that I am doing this or that for Jesus? Then my aim is to glorify God. As I read the Word then I shall find out the mind of the Lord. “If any man’s will he to do his will he shall know of the doctrine.” Hence, if we see a Mary longing to please Him she loves, we are sure also to see such an one longing to be at His feet—in the Word—learning of Him. To hear a saint talking of pleasing God, and to find Him at the same time indifferent to the truth, is a contradiction. If I desire to please, I must know the will of Him whom I would please.
The disciples seemed to think that Jesus was not caring for them, because He slept. It does not seem as if they had laid that pillow for Him. They did not appear satisfied to have Him resting while they were troubled. They are unconfiding, because they do not see some open manifestations of His care. They are walking by sight. But He was caring for them while He was resting on the pillow, just as much as when He was awake. He would strengthen their faith, while He acknowledged the act of the one who laid the pillow for His head so that His word could record that there was just once on earth that He had found a place where to lay His head amid the waves. He could sleep too, when others could not. He was doing His Father’s will, though He had a perfect will Himself as man; therefore waves and storms could not keep Him awake.
Can we, beloved, rest amid the waves of the world, and the winds that Satan may raise? If a pillow be laid for us at such a time, can we rest quietly there? We would rather have our pillow laid for us when all goes smoothly around, when our companions speak well of us, when they admire what we do amongst them. Ah, that is the time we like the pillow, and gladly repose thereon. But it was during the storm He, whose footsteps we are to follow, calmly slept—actually slept, and not merely lay there. Ah, there is but one Christ!
Is it not comforting too, to lay a pillow for some weary saint after his toil, when storms perhaps arise because of the trials of the way? A pillow laid thus “shall in no wise lose its reward.” Many a worker for Jesus now is left to rest on the open deck, as it were, because no hand provides a pillow, and then the Father has to come in (for “the earth is His,” “and the fullness thereof,”) and some “fish” (as it were) is forced to aid out of the sea of the world, as with Him.
It is blessed to see that our Father can act outside His ordered way, when His child-some servant of the Lord—needs this. He is the “possessor of heaven and earth,” still a raven could be used by our Father, but the members of the body of Christ are the ordered channel now. There is a difference however: the saint’s privilege is to give willingly, while our Father may compel those “of the earth, earthy,” to yield up what He needs. The “fish” and the “colt” were of the earth, yet the saint should be the vessel to bring them. If not, the Lord can send them Himself. (1 Kings 17:4.)
If we cannot have a “boat” to cross the sea, it will be a far more wondrous thing to pass over “walking on the water.” The boat may manifest “grace;” but the passing over without it will display the “glory of His grace.” “Eagles’ wings” display His care in glory, (Ex. 19:4; Deut. 32:9-14; Psa. 17:8; Zech. 2:5-11.) They are truly a wondrous resting place for him who serves the Lord Christ; still, His exquisite care in grace is ever present also, “even as a hen gathereth her chickens under her wings.”
We need the God of power as our shield (Gen. 15:1) to go before us in grace: but “the Almighty God” must have us “walk before” Him, when He is to show forth His glory in and by us. (Gen. 17:1.) Then we fall on our faces and have need of a view of our full standing before God: our name is changed for a heavenly place, and “we are (consciously) the circumcision.” (Gen. 17:3, 5, 15, 23: Phil. 3:3.)
It is refreshing to go and ask a “pillow” from one saint that it may be laid for another, when we are sure he is longing to give it. It may turn out that when we ask, that we shall actually find the “pillow” a preparing. We find ourselves sent, as it were, to some “goodman of house”—to some “owners” of the very thing needed by the Lord for His servant.
Are we then able to sleep when we have a pillow laid for us? “So he giveth his beloved sleep.” (Psa. 127:2.) We are often found bustling about in some storm or other, raised up around us, when—if we only lay down on our “pillow”—it would all be rest. It would seem as if Jesus was acting as a man when He slept—a perfect man. Had the disciples not disturbed Him, they would have had a Father’s care through the storm. But their want of faith only brought out His act as God. Every difficulty is met by Jesus.
It is touching to look at the moral glory of Jesus. When He is interrupted by the disciples from the repose which He accepted, as intended by the one who laid that pillow (if such were the case), He allays their fears at once, yet rebukes them— “Why are ye fearful? How is it that ye have no faith?” Though He used the opportunity given by His sleep, for their faith, yet they are thinking only of themselves; “Master, carest thou not that we perish?” Could they doubt His care? He wanted to allow them to know what the care of glory was. They were not up to the order of things in which they might have walked. Well, He will let them have His care in grace. “And he arose, and rebuked the wind, and said unto the sea, Peace, be still. And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm.” They could not cast themselves “on eagles’ wings;” they must therefore have the shelter of grace, as the “hen.” They could not use as yet the glory of His grace. Yet they did afterward, when He was in glory Himself.
When the Son acts as God alone, we can only behold His glory; but He desired that the disciples should share with Himself, as Man, the Father’s power. Is it not wonderful then-we shall be sharers with Him of all His power as Man; God hath not only appointed us “to obtain salvation by our Lord Jesus Christ” (1 Thess. 5:9); but we are also called “to the obtaining of the glory of our Lord Jesus Christ” (2 Thess. 2:14). Yet if we cannot, in our own walk, come up to the glory, Jesus will come down to us in grace. Still it is a wondrous privilege to be allowed to go asleep on our “pillow,” and allow the God of power to act for us. We must not suppose that it underrates the grace to speak thus of the glory—they are but the two ends of the same rod: glory is the blossom of the rod, in risen power, which comes up from the soil of grace!
How perfectly can Jesus meet everything—settle every difficulty. He can accept the token of careful love, though in doing so, others think, it may be that He is forgetting them; He can strengthen faith, though flesh would hinder, as in the disciples; He can rebuke the want of confidence in Himself, and then give rest to those who would not let him sleep. He can do all this still, for He is “the same yesterday, today, and forever”!
Oh, to know him better—to learn in our own consciousness, moment by moment, that “He doeth all things well.” When we do not see Him acting, let us be sure that He is resting in His love.