Matthew 8:27

(non occ.) Chrysostom explains thus, What manner of man is this? His sleeping and His appearance showed the man; the sea and the calm pointed out the God.

And the men marveled... Here is mentioned the effect, namely, the men's admiration. When he says, men, it does not mean the apostles, because they are never referred to in that manner, but it refers to the sailors. Or, according to Jerome, even if it …

(ubi sup.) But who were the men that marvelled? You must not think that the Apostles are here meant, for we never find the Lord's disciples mentioned with disrespect; they are always called either the Disciples or the Apostles. They marvelled then who sailed with Him, whose was the boat. (ubi sup.) This is not a question, What manner of man is this? but an affirmation that He is one whom the winds and the sea obey. What manner of man then is this? that is, how powerful, how mighty, how great! He commands every creature, and they transgress not His law; men alone disobey, and are therefore condemned by His judgment. Figuratively; We are all embarked in the vessel of the Holy Church, and voyaging through this stormy world with the Lord. The Lord Himself sleeps a merciful sleep while we suffer, and awaits the repentance of the wicked. Let us therefore come to Him with joy, saying with the Prophet, Arise, O Lord, why sleepest thou? (Ps. 44:23.) And He will command the winds, that is, the daemons, who raise the waves, that is, the rulers of the world, to persecute the saints, and He shall make a great calm around both body and spirit, peace for the Church, stillness for the world.

"Then He arose, and rebuked the winds and the sea; and there was a great calm. But the men marvelled, saying, What manner of man is this, that even the winds and the sea obey Him!" In appearance He was a man, but His deeds …

But the men marvelled,.... Mark says, "they feared exceedingly"; and Luke, "they being afraid, wondered": they were filled with astonishment and fear, or reverence: there was such a shine of majesty, such a lustre of divine power appeared in this affair. The other two evangelists seem to refer this to the disciples, which Matthew seems to ascribe to the men, the mariners that were in the ship; it is likely it had the same effect on both; and both were abundantly convinced of his deity and dignity, saying, what manner of man, or person is this?

The men marveled - Wondered, or were amazed. What manner of man - What kind of a personage. How unlike other men! What a vast display of power! and how far exalted above mortals must he be! Jesus spake to the winds; rebuked their raging, and the sea was suddenly calm. The storm subsided; the ship glided smoothly; danger fled; and in amazement they stood in the presence of him who controlled the tempests that God had raised; and they felt that “he” must be God himself, for none but God could calm the heaving billows and scatter the tempest.

THIS story of the storm upon the lake is wonderfully full of spiritual interest. Not only does it, literally, show to us the Divine power of our blessed Master in lulling the storm, rendered the more conspicuous by being placed, side by side, with the human weakness which made Him sleep in the ship upon a pillow, but, spiritually, it is a kind of ecclesiastical history, a miniature outline of the story of the Church in all ages.

In the first part of these verses we see a striking example of our Lord’s wisdom in dealing with those who professed a willingness to be his disciples. The passage throws so much light on a subject frequently misunderstood in these days, that it deserves more than ordinary attention. A certain scribe offers to follow our Lord whithersoever he goes. It was a remarkable offer when we consider the class to which the man belonged, and the time at which it was made. But the offer receives a remarkable answer. It is not directly accepted nor yet flatly rejected. Our Lord only makes the solemn reply, “Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of Man has not where to lay his head.” Another follower of our Lord next comes forward, and asks to be allowed to bury his father before going any further in the path of a disciple. The request seems, at first sight, a natural and lawful one. But it draws from our Lord’s lips a reply no less solemn than that already referred to: “Follow me, and let the dead bury their dead.” There is something deeply impressive in both these sayings. They ought to be well weighed by all professing Christians. They teach us plainly that people who show a desire to come forward and profess themselves true disciples of Christ should be warned plainly to count the cost before they begin. Are they prepared to endure hardship? Are they ready to carry the cross? If not, they are not yet fit to begin. They teach us plainly that there are times when a Christian must literally give up all for Christ’s sake, and when even such duties as attending to a parent’s funeral must be left to be performed by others. Such duties some will always be ready to attend to; and at no time can they be put in comparison with the greater duty of preaching the Gospel, and doing Christ’s work in the world.

THIS story of the storm upon the lake is wonderfully full of spiritual interest. Not only does it, literally, show to us the Divine power of our blessed Master in lulling the storm, rendered the more conspicuous by being placed, side by side, with the human weakness which made Him sleep in the ship upon a pillow, but, spiritually, it is a kind of ecclesiastical history, a miniature outline of the story of the Church in all ages. No, the teaching ends not when you have read the incident in that light—it also contains a suggestive forecast of the story of every man who is making the spiritual voyage in company with Jesus. Notice, first, how it is a kind of ecclesiastical history. There is Christ in the vessel with His disciples. What is that but a Church with its pastor? We see in the Church a vessel bearing a rich cargo, steering for a desired haven and fitted out for fishing on the road, should fair opportunity occur. Her being upon a sea shows her to be here below, subject to trial, suffering, labor and peril. I scarcely know of any more apt picture of a Church than a ship upon the treacherous Galilean sea with Jesus and His disciples sailing in it. After a while a storm comes—this we may safely reckon upon. Whatever ship makes a fair voyage, with a favoring wind, the ship of the Church of Jesus Christ never will. She has her calms, but these last not forever—her sail is sure to be weather-beaten at one time or another—and the occasions are seldom far apart. The vessel which has Jesus for its Captain is destined to feel the tempest. Christ has not come to send peace on earth, but a sword. This is His own declaration and He knows His own intent. Every sail of the good ship which bears the flag of the Lord High Admiral of our fleet must be beaten with the wind and every plank in her must be tried by the waves.

The men marvelled - Every part of the creation (man excepted) hears and obeys the Creator’s voice. Sinners have an ear for the world, the devil, and the flesh: till this ear is shut, God’s voice is not discerned; for when it is shut to its enemies it is open to its friends. What manner of man is this - Ποταπος εϚιν ουτος, How great is this person! Here was God fully manifest; but it was in the flesh - there were the hidings of his power.