05.15. The Nobleman at Capernaum

The Nobleman at Capernaum

"Once more he visited Cana in Galilee, where he had turned the water into wine. And there was a certain royal nobleman whose son lay sick at Capernaum. When this man heard that Jesus had arrived in Galilee from Judea, he went to him and begged him to come and heal his son, who was close to death. "Unless you people see miraculous signs and wonders," Jesus told him, "you will never believe." The royal official said, "Sir, come down before my child dies." Jesus replied, "You may go. Your son will live." The man took Jesus at his word and departed. While he was still on the way, his servants met him with the news that his boy was living. When he inquired as to the time when his son got better, they said to him, "The fever left him yesterday at the seventh hour." Then the father realized that this was the exact time at which Jesus had said to him, "Your son will live." So he and all his household believed." John 4:46-53 "A bruised reed shall He not break, and smoking flax shall He not quench." Matthew 12:20 Three schoolmasters are engaged in the instruction of the Lord’s family:

1. Moses, the law-giver, teaches them the exceeding sinfulness of sin, and the guilt of breaking the least of the commandments.

2. Christ, the great Prophet, teaches them by His faithful sayings, by His holy example, by His ever blessed Spirit, the way of life.

3. Affliction also is our teacher. The rod is the voice of the Lord. It speaks, as God appoints — sometimes in the abode of the lowly, and sometimes in the mansion of the great. It brings home the teaching both of Moses and of Christ. It brings down high thoughts; it makes men to know how vain is all earthly grandeur, that the glory of man is but as the flower of grass; that here we have no continuing city; that it is our wisdom to seek above all things, a kingdom that cannot be moved; and during our pilgrimage, to lean only on Him who never fails to support those who trust in His grace.

It was thus with the nobleman whose coming to Christ is given in John 4:46-53. This man was one of the courtiers of Herod Antipas, and dwelt at Capernaum, between twenty and thirty miles from Cana, where we find our Lord on the occasion of this miracle. The nobleman’s son is laid low with an attack of fever, and of so severe a character, that it appears well-near impossible that he can recover. For any lesser cause the nobleman would probably have hesitated to apply to Christ, for it was no slight matter for one in such a position to seek help from Jesus of Nazareth. But love to his child triumphs over every scruple — so he comes to Cana, earnestly beseeching Christ to come down and heal his son.

O blessed affliction, which brings the sorrowing one to the feet of Jesus! The cloud may be dark and threatening — yet behind it is the brightness of heavenly consolation — if only it leads you to go strait to the Friend of sinners. But for this, it is little likely that the nobleman would have come within the sphere of a Savior’s love. High station, the praise of man, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life — might still have reigned supreme within. But now that he comes near, now that an errand of sore necessity has removed the veil that hid Jesus from his view — who shall say what everlasting joy may arise from his first approach to the Lord of life and glory?

Never, never reckon that an evil, which takes you with an errand to your Savior! Whether it is for yourself, or for one beloved; whether it is pain, or sorrow, or anxiety; whether it is the loss of your dearest friend or the unkindness of those around you — reckon it alike to be most blessed gain, if it draws you for the first time or for the thousandth time, to the Savior’s footstool. But Jesus does not at once grant the father’s request. Beneath the surface He detects much in the nobleman’s faith that was very imperfect, much that needed raising to a higher level. It was a faith that needed the support of signs and wonders, and that sought a temporal blessing with too little regard to the grace and love of Him that should grant it. So Christ answers the thoughts of the inner man, rather than the spoken word. To save a soul was more to Him even than to save a life. So, as the good Physician, He still more deeply wounds that bleeding heart — that afterward He may bind it up and pour in the oil of heavenly consolation. Jesus meets the nobleman with a solemn reproof, including within its range those that stood around: "Then said Jesus unto him: Unless you people see miraculous signs and wonders, you will never believe."

Already had abundant ground been given for faith, had not the hearts of the Jews been hardened in unbelief. Had not Christ been born in Bethlehem according to the Prophet? Had not angels borne witness to Him, and Simeon and Anna spoken of Him as the promised Messiah? Had not a voice been heard at His baptism, testifying to His being the Son of God? Might not His words of heavenly wisdom have been enough to convince them that He was more than man? Yet, for all this, without miraculous signs and wonders they will not believe. And when signs and wonders are granted, very soon the impression is altogether lost.

What a contrast is presented in the very same chapter. Look at the Samaritans. Without the aid of a single miracle, only by the report of the woman, and afterward by hearing the words that fell from His own lips — do they believe on His name. Not only do they believe in Him as some great One, as Elijah or that Prophet — but they rise at once to the very highest degree of faith, they confess Him to be "the Christ, the Savior of the world!" Who does not see here, what is most needed if we would become partakers of Christ?

It is not signs or miracles;
it is not greater privileges or fresh opportunities;
it is not a more favorable position in life;
it is not better sermons or a clearer Bible —
but it is a simplicity of mind, a desire for spiritual blessings, a heart taught by the Holy Spirit. Are you yet without faith? For what are you waiting? Do you imagine that some sign, some solemn event happening under your eye, some fresh means of grace will bring you to faith and repentance? O hearken not to this siren’s voice — it will only deceive you. Come and believe now. Cast aside your old prejudices. Cast aside that world-loving spirit. In dependence upon the Spirit’s aid, draw near to Jesus; come to Him with confession of former neglect: "Lord, I believe — help my unbelief!" The reproof doubtless touches him to the quick, but does not drive him away from the only Helper. He is evidently a most loving father, and his deep anxiety for his son again comes out. While he speaks, we may almost hear a groan and see a hot tear in every word: "Sir, come down, before my child dies!" As if he would say, "Ah, Lord, truly my faith is nothing, but my child is dying, he will soon be gone! Oh, deny me not my request, come down speedily to my help!" The mingling together of faith and unbelief in this appeal, is worthy of notice.

We mark a reliance on the Savior’s power to heal, a faith not only beseeching at first, but persevering; a faith overleaping a repulse and still looking to the Lord; a faith resembling in some measure, though in a far less degree, that of the Syrophenician woman: "True, Lord — yet even the dogs eat of the crumbs which fall from the master’s table."

Yet with this there is no less evident imperfection. There is a limiting of the power of Christ in two directions. Christ must be present — or it would avail nothing. "Sir, come down." Very different was the spirit of the Centurion: "Only speak the word, and my servant shall be healed." Then too, it must be, "Before my child dies." The nobleman believed Christ to possess the power to heal, but he could scarcely expect more. That Christ could also raise the dead, was altogether beyond the grasp of his faith. But we cannot be surprised at this, nor would we blame him. To him, as yet, had little comparatively been given — and therefore but little was required. It was his first approach to Christ; he had as yet but little knowledge of Him. Probably he had not hitherto seen one of His miracles. But is it not otherwise with yourself, believer? Is not the knowledge of Christ fully revealed to you in Holy Scripture? Is not the whole story of His wondrous life spread before you? His sojourn here, His atoning death, His glorious resurrection — all are given; and moreover invitations and promises that meet every case.

Yield not then to the sin of Israel in the wilderness. Limit not the Holy of Israel. Narrow not the sphere of His power to help. Let not time, or place, or circumstance prove an obstacle to your faith.

Say not in a distrustful spirit, "Would that I could see some proof that Jesus has received me, that my prayer is heard, that I shall be delivered from this trial." Remember that sight-faith is no faith at all. Believe first — you shall see afterward. Take as a little child every word that the Master has spoken, and rely upon it as infallibly true. Raise to the very highest degree your conception of . . .
the all-sufficiency,
the resistless might,
the unchanging faithfulness,
the boundless love of the Savior!

Raise to the highest pitch your thoughts of the prevailing character of Christ’s mediation, both with reference to your present acceptance, the answer to your prayers, and your preservation unto life eternal. And then rest assured that as far as the Heaven is above the earth — so far does the grace of our Lord immeasurably exceed the utmost bound of your feeble imaginings.

Jesus again replies to the nobleman. Now it is to grant his request — yet in granting it, to try once more, and thus to increase his faith. The father asks for Christ’s presence: He vouchsafes him but His word. "Go your way, your son lives." Yet was it not a still better gift? Had Christ gone with him according to his wish, the son must have had some hours more of suffering; he might meanwhile have died, thus causing fresh sorrow to the household. Besides, the fresh trial of faith brought also lasting benefit to the father. "With one word," writes Hall, "does Christ heal two patients — the son of the fever — and the father of his unbelief."

How like to this are Christ’s dealings with His people at all times. He gives not exactly as we ask, or what we ask — but what we should ask, which is better than all we have sought for. He is the good Physician, the great Healer, who uses the bodily infirmities of ourselves and others, that He may heal all our spiritual diseases. He banishes every fever of the mind: eager haste to be rich, unruly lusts, fiery tempers, angry passions, impatient murmurings against the Divine will. The message is received in the assurance of faith. The discipline of Christ has not been lost. Though He has never seen the son, or touched his hand — yet the nobleman believes that a single act of His will, a single word of His power is enough to restore his son. Nor does he go hastily back in mingled fear and hope. So confident is he that all is well, that he tarries awhile. Leisurely he returns by the way that he had trodden in such haste. It was only a short time after mid-day that Christ speaks. Without difficulty might he have reached Capernaum that evening, but not until the next day does he reach home. There need be no hurrying hither and thither, where there is faith. Steady reliance on the Lord’s promise ever brings with it quietness of spirit: "He who believes, shall not make haste." As he returns the servants meet him. And it is observable that they use as the relation of a fad the very words that Christ had used as a promise to the father. "Your son lives," says Christ, and the fever took its flight as He spoke it. "Your son lives," say the servants in bringing the welcome news. Nor was it, as the father inquired, that "he began to amend;" but "the fever left him." As in the case of Peter’s wife’s mother, it was not a gradual recovery, but immediate restoration to health.

Learn ever from this to receive the promise of Christ as facts. That which He speaks with His mouth — does He ever fulfill with His hand. That which is matter of promise today — will be simple history tomorrow. "Heaven and earth shall pass away, but My word shall not pass away." The healing of the son becomes a means of spiritual blessing to the whole family. The father yields up himself to Christ. Nor need we be surprised that the mother’s heart is touched, or that the young man feels bound to render up the life restored to him. We know not how many belonged to that household, but this we know, that Christ became the center of every heart. Even in Capernaum, doomed through its unbelief to a worse condemnation than that of Sodom — one family is found saved in Christ forever.

Happy is that home where Christ dwells, where all delight to love and follow Him. "With Your blessing, O Lord, let the house of Your servant be blessed forever!"

It may be profitable to review Christ’s dealings with this suppliant. Tenderly does He fulfill the word prophesied: that He would not break a bruised reed, nor quench the smoking flax. He rebukes, but He does not reject him. He raises a faith which was very defective to that which could triumph in His salvation. He leads one, who as a loving father seeks a child’s restoration, to become a true, steadfast believer, to the everlasting peace of himself and his family.

Let those who have as yet but little faith, learn to hope in Him and wait upon Him for its increase. He will not cast away the few grains of gold, because of the dross mingled with it. He blows not upon the glimmering candle, but guards it with His own hand. He tramples not upon the tender plant, but supports it with His rod and staff. "He gives power to the faint, and to those who have no might, He increases strength." An example may afford encouragement to some readers. A man well known for his Christian principle had many doubts as to the reality of his saving interest in Christ. He loved the Sanctuary; he loved the people of God; he walked consistently in the ways of the Lord — yet could seldom rise to the joy of faith. During his last illness his doubts increased, so that at length he exclaimed, "I have lost my Savior." For two days and a night this anguish of mind continued. At length the Lord rebuked the Tempter, and comforted His servant who longed for His salvation. While alone the day previous to his death, his wife in an adjoining room heard him exclaim, "O, my Savior! He has come again, He has come again!" Nor was this impression transitory. This tranquility and joy lasted until his spirit took its happy flight to the land where all darkness is extinguished forever in the light of the Savior’s countenance.