Matthew 14:1-21; Mark 6:30-44.
In these two parallel scriptures we are presented with two distinct conditions of heart which both find their answer in the sympathy and grace of Jesus. Let us look closely at them; and may the Holy Spirit enable us to gather up and bear away their precious teaching!
It was, no doubt, a moment of deep sorrow to John’s disciples when their master had fallen by the sword of Herod; when the one on whom they had been accustomed to lean, and from whose lips they had been wont to drink instruction, was taken from them after such a fashion. This, we may well believe, was indeed a moment of gloom and desolation to the followers of the Baptist.
But there was one to whom they could come, in their sorrow, and into whose ear they could pour their tale of grief—one of whom their master had spoken, to whom he had pointed, and of whom he had said, “He must increase, but I must decrease.” To Him the bereaved disciples betook themselves, as we read, “They came and took up the body, and buried it, and went and told Jesus.” (Matt. 14:12).
This was the very best thing they could have done. There was not another heart on earth in which they could have found such a response as in the heart—the tender, loving heart of Jesus. His sympathy was perfect. He knew all about their sorrow. He knew their loss, and how they would be feeling it. Wherefore, they acted wisely when “they went and told Jesus.” His ear was ever open, and His heart ever at leisure to soothe and sympathize. He perfectly exemplified the precept afterward embodied in the words of the Holy Spirit, “Rejoice with them that do rejoice, and weep with them that weep.” (Rom. 12:15).
And O! Who can tell the worth of genuine sympathy? Who can declare the value of having one who can really make your joys and sorrows His own? Thank God! We have such an one in the blessed Lord Jesus Christ; and although we cannot see Him with the bodily eye, yet can faith use Him in all the preciousness and power of His perfect sympathy.
We can, if only our faith is simple and childlike, go from the tomb where we have just deposited the remains of some fondly cherished object, to the feet of Jesus, and there pour out the anguish of a bereaved and desolate heart. We shall there meet no rude repulse, no heartless reproof for our folly and weakness, in feeling so deeply. No; nor yet any clumsy effort to say something suitable, an awkward effort to put on. Some expression of condolence. Ah! no;
Jesus knows how to sympathize with a heart that is crushed and bowed down beneath the heavy weight of sorrow. He is a perfect human heart. What a thought! What a privilege to have access, at all times, in all places, and under all circumstances, to a perfect human heart! We may look in vain for this down here. Yes; look in vain, not merely in the world, but even in the church. There may, in many cases, be a real desire to sympathize, but a total lack of capacity. I may find myself, in moments of sorrow, in company with one who knows nothing about my sorrow or the source thereof. How could he sympathize? And even though I should tell him, his heart might be so occupied with other things as to have no room and no leisure for me.
Not so with the perfect man, Christ Jesus. He has both room and leisure for each and for all. No matter when, how, or with what you come, the heart of Jesus is always open. He will never repulse, never fail, never disappoint. If, therefore, we are in sorrow, what should we do? We should just do as the disciples of John the Baptist did, “go and tell Jesus.” This, assuredly, is the right thing to do. Let us go straight from the tomb to the feet of Jesus. He will dry up our tears, soothe our sorrows, heal our wounds, and fill up our blanks.
To be continued.