13. A New Method of Teaching—Parables. The Parables of the Sower, the Mustard Seed, and the Wheat and Tares. The Stilling of the Storm on the Lake. The Healing of the Gadarene Demoniac

The incident in the house of Simon the Pharisee sufficiently demonstrated that simple ordinary teaching was not enough to awaken the slumbering conscience of the people and to clarify the great truths of the new kingdom. A form was needed that would astonish and strike its hearers with its fascination, vividness, and expressiveness—precisely the form that had so unexpectedly struck Simon the Pharisee, exposing his false and uncharitable attitude toward the penitent sinner. Since such a form had evidently struck all the hearers as well, Christ made use of it for further clarification of the teaching He proclaimed. From this point He began a series of famous parables, which mark the period of the highest development of Christ’s preaching.

The parable (mashal) was not unknown to the Jews, since even in the Old Testament there had been attempts to clarify various truths by such means (Judg. 9:7; 2Sam. 5:1; Ezek. 13:11 ff.), and by this time it was in constant use among the rabbis. Its chief characteristic is the presentation of a moral or religious truth in a more vivid form than is possible through simple exposition, whereby the teacher makes use of the most ordinary and well-known phenomena of nature or everyday life—phenomena whose comparison vividly depicts the truth being presented before the eyes of the hearers and impresses it indelibly on their memory. In its essence the parable approximates the fable, insofar as it admits the possibility of invented events; but it differs from the fable in that it always maintains plausibility and does not attribute to the characters it presents traits foreign to them by nature. While being extraordinarily simple, it is at the same time always distinguished by a serious and elevated character, and from the most ordinary phenomena it draws the deepest truths, capable of making an indelible impression on the consciousness of the hearers. All of surrounding life provided inexhaustible material for the parables of Christ, who with truly divine wisdom embodied in them the truths of the kingdom of heaven. The sower on the nearest hillside, the tares in the field, the ordinary growth of the mustard seed, the leaven in the dough, the treasure accidentally found by a ploughman, and much else of this kind served Him as occasion for expounding under the most captivating form the deepest truths that the human mind is capable of receiving. If other teachers too had made use with some success of the parabolic form of instruction, it was only in Christ that this form acquired that truly divine and elevated character which made the parable one of the most powerful instruments for planting the greatest truths of the Kingdom of God in the heart of humanity.

After the Savior left the house of Simon the Pharisee, a great multitude followed Him, eager to hear His divine teaching. Christ made His way to the shore of the lake. The crowd was large and pressed Him to the very water’s edge, making it impossible for His voice to carry freely. Therefore He, as on a previous occasion, entered a boat and from its elevated stern—as from a kind of pulpit—addressed the people thronging on the shore with instruction, namely with parables. The first of these wonderful parabolic teachings was the Parable of the Sower, depicting the very beginning of the planting of the Word of God in the human heart. In a country such as Galilee nothing could have been more widely known and readily understood than the images and scenes set forth in this parable; indeed the sower himself may have been visible to everyone right there, sowing a newly ploughed field on a nearby hillside sloping down to the lake. Of the seeds scattered by him, as the hearers well knew, “some fell by the wayside; and the fowls came and devoured them up. Some fell upon stony places” where there was not much earth; and since the earth was not deep, it sprang up quickly but, having no proper root, soon withered and dried up under the scorching rays of the sun. “And some fell among thorns” (which then as now grew abundantly in Palestine) “and the thorns sprung up and choked them. But others fell on good ground, and brought forth fruit: some an hundredfold, some sixtyfold, some thirtyfold.” Having finished this parable, the Savior meaningfully added: “Who hath ears to hear, let him hear!” The addition was not superfluous, for many of the hearers, having ears for hearing, did not have sufficient understanding to grasp the parable. Despite its extraordinary simplicity and vividness, even the disciples did not understand its meaning, and on the Savior’s return to the house of the Apostle Peter in Capernaum they did not fail to ask for an explanation. This very request showed that the parable had made a strong impression on them, had stirred in them a thought that demanded satisfaction. And the Savior did not delay in giving the apostles—as the future continuers of His work—a detailed explanation of this parable. To the question of why He spoke to the people in parables, the Savior replied that it was precisely this form of instruction that alone could effectively teach a people that “seeing seeth not, and hearing heareth not, neither do they understand,” for, in the words of the prophet Isaiah, “this people’s heart is waxed gross, and their ears are dull of hearing, and their eyes they have closed; lest at any time they should see with their eyes, and hear with their ears, and should understand with their heart.” Let at least these outward images impress themselves upon the memory of the people, so that in a more favorable disposition they might serve as a means of penetrating to their inner meaning, which for now is not given them to understand. Only to the chosen disciples is it given “to know the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven,” and to them as heralds of these mysteries the Savior could offer also an explanation of the outward images of the parable. By the sower of the seed is meant the divine Preacher of the Word of God Himself, and by the seed His hearers. Some hearers are like the seed that fell by the wayside and was pecked up by birds and trodden underfoot by passers-by. These are people with unfeeling and unreceptive hearts, in which the Word of God finds absolutely no soil for germination, and from which it is either immediately snatched away by the spirit of malice, or is lost and perishes on the stony road of worldly cares. Others of the hearers are like seed sown on stony places, where there is some soil but not enough to allow it to take full root. These are people who receive the Word of God with eager joy, but it does not take root in their hearts, and under the influence of persecution and worldly tribulations they abandon it with equal ease, and it withers and dries up in their souls. And that which was sown among thorns denotes one who receives the word and allows it to spring up in his heart; but the care of this world and the deceitfulness of riches in time choke the Word of God in them, and it becomes unfruitful. Finally, that which was sown on good ground denotes one who hears the word and understands it; he bears fruit, so that one brings forth a hundredfold, another sixtyfold, and another thirtyfold.

To further unfold for the disciples the mysteries of the kingdom of heaven, the Savior offered them several more parables, representing the development of the main idea. In the Parable of the Sower the very planting of the seed of the Kingdom of God had been explained, along with the various fates of that seed in different hearts. Then the Savior explained the power of the seed’s growth in a receptive soul. The Kingdom of God is in this respect like a grain of mustard seed, which, being one of the smallest of seeds, when it is grown is greater than all herbs and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and lodge in the branches thereof. Or again it is like leaven, which a woman hid in three measures of meal, until the whole was leavened. Just as a mustard seed by its very inner nature grows into a great tree, or leaven inevitably leavens all the dough, so the New Testament kingdom, notwithstanding its humble beginnings, was destined to spread its branches throughout the entire world and to permeate it with its inner spirit. For its establishment no outward, violent upheavals or fierce wars would be required, as many among the hearers might have imagined. No—the Savior taught that the kingdom of heaven would triumph by the power of truth inherent in its very being, and by that power—the power of faith and love—it would regenerate the world.

But its growth would not come about without the machinations of the ancient enemy, who would not fail to employ every wile of his cunning to hinder or halt the growth of this kingdom. In this respect “the kingdom of heaven is likened unto a man which sowed good seed in his field,” in which, however, his enemy by night sowed tares among the wheat, intending thereby to choke the good seed. Noticing this, the servants proposed to their master that they pull up the grown tares; but the master said to them: “Nay; lest while ye gather up the tares, ye root up also the wheat with them. Let both grow together therefore until the harvest,” when the reapers, now able to separate the tares without harm to the wheat, would by the master’s command bind them in bundles and burn them, while gathering the wheat into the barn. The meaning of this parable was also explained by the Savior Himself at the disciples’ request. In the Church He founded, tares would exist alongside the wheat as the planting of the ancient enemy; but only the divine Judge at the Last Judgment can pronounce His impartial verdict on the fate of each, since during the present age everyone is given every opportunity to repent and to be transformed from tares into good wheat. “For those who today are tares,” says blessed Augustine, “can tomorrow become wheat.” In elucidation of this truth the Savior also said that “the kingdom of heaven is like unto a net, that was cast into the sea, and gathered of every kind: which, when it was full, they drew to shore, and sat down, and gathered the good into vessels, but cast the bad away. So shall it be at the end of the world: the angels shall come forth, and sever the wicked from among the just; and shall cast them into the furnace of fire: there shall be wailing and gnashing of teeth.”

These discourses, wonderful in their fascination, had occupied an entire day. The people kept gathering to hear the divine Preacher, but the Savior felt extreme weariness, and an irresistible desire to withdraw and rest came upon Him. The best means for this was to withdraw to the opposite, less populated shore of Peraea, and the Savior told His disciples to sail there. But before the boat pushed off from shore, three men from among the crowd of hearers expressed a wish to become His permanent disciples and followers. The first was a scribe. Confidently supposing that his learning and social standing made him the most desirable member of the apostolic brotherhood, he boldly cried out: “Master, I will follow Thee whithersoever Thou goest.” But he was mistaken. Christ foresaw his self-interested heart, which calculated on playing a role in the kingdom of heaven as he played one in the earthly kingdom, and simply answered that he was vain to count on any earthly advantages in joining the followers of Christ. “The foxes,” said He, “have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of Man hath not where to lay His head”—so that it would be better for the scribe to remain in his former position until his proud heart was purified and he fully grasped the mystery of the Kingdom of God. The second was already partly a disciple of the Savior but wished to become His follower fully, on the sole condition that he first go and bury his father. “Follow Me,” came the decisive reply of Christ, “and let the dead bury their dead”—that is, leave the world and worldly affairs to their own care. Whoever wishes to follow Christ must leave even father and mother. A similar answer was given to the third seeker of discipleship. He too asked for a delay, wishing not to join Christ immediately but first to take leave of his household and friends. To this came the reply that became a proverb for all subsequent ages: “No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God.” “He whom the east summons,” in the fine saying of blessed Augustine, “must turn his thoughts away from the setting west.” It was precisely this exalted thought that sustained and strengthened those great hierarchs and ascetics of the Church who renounced every family attachment and for Christ’s sake left behind all worldly ties.

At last, when even this delay had passed, the disciples were able to hoist the sail of their boat and set out. But even now Jesus was, as it were, pursued by His followers, for as the Evangelist Mark relates, “there were also with Him other little ships.” The latter, however—since they are not mentioned on arrival at the other shore—most probably soon fell behind, frightened by signs of an approaching storm. In any case the Savior was able to rest quietly in the boat among His devoted disciples, and scarcely had they pushed off from shore than He laid His weary head upon the leather cushion at the stern and fell into the deep sleep of a man worn out with toil—the tranquil sleep of those who are in full peace with God and their own conscience. But even this so necessary sleep was destined soon to be cut short by a violent awakening. On the lake there suddenly arose one of those terrible and furious storms so common in this deep basin of the earth’s surface. Whirlwinds sprang up in the air in an instant, and the lake heaved violently. The danger was dreadful; the boat was tossed about continuously, swept by foaming waves. Christ, lying on the open deck at the stern, was drenched with spray, but He slept calmly. His fatigue was so great that even the storm could not disturb His sleep; and as yet no one ventured to wake Him. But now the waves were already completely swamping the boat, which began to fill with water and sink. Then with cries of despair and terror the disciples began to rouse Him: “Lord! Master! Master! — save us, we perish!” These desperate cries, mingled with the howl of the storm and the roar of the raging waves, vaguely struck His half-awakened hearing. In such circumstances, when one is unexpectedly compelled, without any preparation, to look straight in the face of terrible danger, a man is fully revealed: here not only courage is shown, but the greatness and purity of his entire nature. The tempest, which had broken the tried courage and rendered vain all the skill of hardened fishermen, did not for one moment disturb the deep inner tranquility of the Son of Man. Without the least perturbation, without any alarm, Jesus, simply raising Himself from the spray-drenched stern of the feebly struggling and half-submerged boat, calmed the storm in their souls with quiet words: “Why are ye so fearful, O ye of little faith?” And then, rising fully and standing on the elevation of the stern in all the tranquility of natural majesty, He gazed into the darkness of the hurricane that tore at His garments and ruffled His hair, and amid the roar of the raging elements His voice rang out: “Peace, be still!” And the wind ceased, and there was a great calm. And when the reflection of the quietly glimmering stars of a clearing sky sparkled on the stilled surface of the water, not only the disciples but even the sailors exchanged whispers with one another in awe: “What manner of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?” And this miraculous event was as it were a complement to the parables of the kingdom of heaven just expounded. From it the disciples and all believers were to understand that the kingdom of heaven, or the Church of Christ, is like a ship tossed by the fierce waves of the sea of life. The waves may at times swamp the ship of the Church and threaten it with destruction; but those within it must not be afraid. Christ is with them, and while He is with them, no forces of hell shall prevail against them.

At dawn the boat arrived in Peraea, at the shore of the region of the Gadarenes. But even there the Savior could not find the desired rest. Scarcely had He come ashore with the disciples than two miserable men, possessed by demonic power, ran out from the rocky tomb-caves to meet Him. In antiquity there were no asylums or hospitals for patients of this kind, and such demoniacs, as unfit for social life, were simply driven out from among men or restrained by measures as ineffective as they were cruel. In such circumstances the unfortunate, if incurable, could find shelter only in the caves of the rocky hillsides—which abound in Palestine and which the Jews used for burial of the dead. It is understandable that the filthy and wild conditions of such refuges, with their inseparable fears and phantoms, could only intensify the affliction, and especially with one of these wretched men, who had long been possessed, there was already nothing to be done. Attempts had been made to bind him, but in fits of madness he showed a superhuman strength and always succeeded in throwing off his shackles or breaking his chains. Now he was altogether left to wander in the desolate and wild ravines, which day and night resounded with his wild cries as he roamed through them—dangerous to himself and to others, raging and dashing himself against the stones. The other demoniac, apparently less severely afflicted, having appeared alongside his companion, withdrew again; but the first boldly came to meet Jesus Christ, and feeling in Him his Savior and Deliverer from the power of darkness that oppressed him, fell down before Him and worshipped. Then, as if speaking on behalf of the unclean spirits, he begged the Savior with a loud and terrified cry not to torment him before the time. The merciful Lord, wishing to free the unfortunate man from the yoke of the powers of darkness that weighed upon him, asked what his name was. “Legion”—the demonic power, which had suppressed in him every personal self-awareness, answered for him. The presence of Roman troops had acquainted him with this term for a great multitude, and since there were in him, by his own awareness, six thousand evil spirits (a legion having six thousand soldiers), he answered with this Latin word, well known to every Jew. Seeing the end of their dominion over the unfortunate man, the demons begged Christ that, in casting them out, He would permit them to enter the large herd of swine feeding nearby on the hillside, which the Gadarenes kept for the provisioning of some Roman legion stationed in the vicinity, or perhaps for the inhabitants themselves, who in this remote region did not strictly observe the Mosaic law. The Savior gave permission, so as to give the demoniac a visible demonstration of his complete healing. “Then the demons, having come out of the man, entered into the swine: and the herd ran violently down a steep place into the lake, and were choked.” Struck by this extraordinary event, the herdsmen “ran away, and told it in the city and in the villages,” and people came running from all sides to see the extraordinary visitor to their land forgotten by all. There they saw that an astonishing change had come over the demoniac who had inspired terror in everyone. The wondrous visitor had healed him, and he was as calm as a child. Some compassionate hand had thrown a cloak over his naked and filthy body, and he sat at the feet of Jesus Christ, in his right mind. And at the sight of this “they were afraid.” But they were more afraid not of so great a miracle, but of the fact that in its working a terrible loss had been inflicted upon them. They had lost a full two thousand swine, and since swine were dearer to them than any man and than anything that could be hoped for from the divine Visitor, they with shameful unanimity asked Christ to depart from them. Christ Himself taught His disciples not to give that which is holy unto dogs nor to cast pearls before swine, “lest they trample them under their feet, and turn again and rend you.” He therefore decided to leave the inhospitable region at once, but so as not to deprive it wholly of the glad tidings of the coming of the kingdom of heaven, He made the healed man a preacher of God’s glory in that land. “Go home,” the Savior told him, “to thy friends, and tell them how great things the Lord hath done for thee, and hath had compassion on thee.” And thus the Gadarene demoniac became the first herald of the Kingdom of God in that land, known by the name of the Decapolis, and his preaching was confirmed by the astonishing miracle that had been personally wrought upon him.